First Intergalactic Emperor: Starting With The Ancient Goddess

There were three main clubs in the city.

Galaxy Club—membership only. The cheapest tier started at a thousand bucks a month, and even that didn’t get you much. For benefits, a tier upgrade was needed.

Midnight Club—free to enter, but the membership was invite only. No invite, no chance. Only drinks and dance allowed.

Crown Club—also called Princess Club. Only women were allowed through those doors.

But these weren’t just places to drink and dance. They were the city’s beating heart of crime and power. Backdoors to the underworld. A step up if you wanted to be someone, or a step down if you slipped.

Xavier and Oliver stood in front of the Midnight Club. The neon sign buzzed overhead, flickering in shades of violet and cyan. The hacker had told them to come here.

The bouncer stopped them at first, but once they showed proof of enrollment at Astraeus Academy, the rope was pulled aside.

Even though it was the middle of the day, the place was packed.

Inside, the air was thick—smoke, perfume, static. Every surface shimmered—holograms danced on the walls, shifting between ads and half-naked avatars. The bass wasn’t just sound; it was a low pulse you felt in your spine. Tables floated. Drinks glowed. The ceiling stretched high, with thin silver wires running like spiderwebs across it, carrying drones and trays overhead. The whole place felt like it was alive—watching, breathing, waiting.

”Hey, Oliver. Ring her up,” Xavier said, scanning the crowd. ”Tell her we’re inside.”

Oliver nodded and made the call. After a short chat, he walked over to a waiter leaning against a wall near the corner table. Without a word, he handed over the phone.

The waiter listened, glanced their way, and then waved over a guard. He whispered something to the guard, while he nodded and listened. And then the guard signaled for them to follow.

”Hey...” Xavier leaned in. ”I know she’s helped us so far, but what if this is a setup? We don’t know anyone here. She, on the other hand, seems pretty well-connected.”

Oliver didn’t stop walking. ”I get you,” he said, checking something on his wristwatch. ”But my dad has my location, and he is tracking me. If anything happens or there are no updates, he’ll know. And besides, we’re the ones who asked for this meeting. Can’t afford to look paranoid now.”

The guard led them past flashing lights and half-shut doors, then up a narrow staircase lit by dim red strips. He stopped on the first floor, pointed toward the hallway.

”Last room at the end,” he said. ”Knock three times, then one after a pause.”

And with that, he turned around and left.

”What’s with all these signals?” Xavier muttered. ”She knows we are coming so why do we have to knock and stuff?”

”I don’t know. But let’s do what she wants. Maybe there is a reason for it?”

KNOCK~ KNOCK~ KNOCK~

And after a pause of one second.

KNOCK~!

The door opened, and they were greeted by a big and tall cyborg.

”Come in.”

What surprised Xavier the most was a gun on the cyborg’s shoulder. It was mounted to his body and moving up and down automatically as though it was a living part of his body.

”Sit. Angel should be here soon.”

’Angel? So that’s the name of the hacker?’ Xavier raised a brow as they sat on the soft couch. There were three bowls filled with mixed fruit silences, and three glasses with a sealed juice bottom to the side.

They waited for a while in awkward silence. The cyborg kept moving all around the room as though he was patrolling it, while Oliver sat nervously.

Xavier, on the other hand, was calm. He wanted to eat the fruit but he had just eaten and he wasn’t feeling particularly hungry.

”Why are you not eating anything?” the cyborg asked. ”Angel ordered it for you. Do you not like Angel’s choice of food?”

”N-No! We love it!” Oliver quickly began eating.

But Xavier didn’t. ”What about you?” the cyborg stared down at Xavier.

”I will eat when I feel like it.” Xavier crossed his leg on top of the other and casually asked, ”How long will Angel take? I think we came here on time, and she should too. Where is she? I know she was here before we arrived.”

”Hmm?” Oliver glanced at Xavier with a surprised look on his face. He was still eating fruit slices.

The cyborg simply stared at Xavier with no emotions on his face and then asked, ”How do you know that?”

”The couch.” Xavier pointed his gaze at the empty couch beside him. ”The cushioning of the couch was a bit pressed, which means that someone was sitting here just before we came.”

”It could have been me. What makes you think it was Angel?”

”I mean...” Xavier looked at the cyborg’s torso. ”Come on.”

”Hehe!” Cyborg chuckled for the first time and showed any emotions. ”Angel was right about you. You are right, she was here. She left when you called her.”

”Where is she now?”

”She went for nature’s call.”

KNOCK~ KNOCK~!

”Looks like she is here.”

The cyborg opened the door and Angel walked in. She was exactly like Xavier had imagined.

She looked a bit older than Xavier; in her early twenties. Jet-black hair framed her pale face, cut sharp above her brows, neat and blunt like a blade. Beneath that smooth surface, her skin carried thin cybernetic lines that ran down from her eyes—etched like scars but too precise to be anything but design. They pulsed faintly, cold and alien.

Her arms were inked and armored. Glowing tattoos snaked around biomechanical limbs—chrome plates, fiber optics, steel fingers fused with flesh. Every piece of her looked handcrafted by a street doc who knew style better than ethics.

She wore a thin black jacket, open just enough to flash metal underneath. Not for fashion. For flex. Her lips were parted, soft, maybe lost in thought, or maybe she just didn’t care enough to close them. Smoke curled from a half-burnt cigarette between her fingers.

”Sup guys.”