First Intergalactic Emperor: Starting With The Ancient Goddess

”What?!” Leonardo snapped, his voice sharp as a blade. ”You fucking psycho—!”

He turned to Maximilian, his hands thrown up. ”He’s trying to turn us against each other! Don’t you see it? He’s playing games!”

Maximilian didn’t say a word. Just stood there. Gun still in his hand. Mind still fogged.

Leonardo kept pushing. ”You’re seriously gonna listen to this bastard? He’s toying with us!”

Xavier then butted in and said calmly, ”Yo, chill. I didn’t mean it like that. I never said kill Leonardo.”

He walked over, placed the empty coffee mug gently on Leonardo’s head, and tapped it with a finger. ”This is what I meant.”

He turned to Maximilian, smirking. ”Shoot the mug.”

Leonardo’s expression twisted. ”You’ve lost your fucking mind.”

Xavier stretched his arms like he was about to take a nap. ”Forty-five seconds.”

Maximilian lifted the gun. Leonardo immediately stepped in, gripping his wrist, stopping him from taking aim.

Leonardo grabbed his arm immediately. ”Don’t you fucking dare, Max! He’s lost it. You can’t be serious.”

Xavier stood back, arms folded. ”Come on, Leonardo. Where’s the trust? Didn’t Max win that gold in precision shooting? You’re his friend, right? So be a good one. Stand still.”

Leonardo’s eyes narrowed. ”Why the hell would I gamble my life for your entertainment?”

Xavier clicked his tongue. ”It’s not about life or death. It’s about pride. Respect. Brotherhood. The big words you all love to throw around. Don’t act like a coward now.”

”Twenty-five seconds,” Xavier added, voice getting even calmer, like this was just a casual conversation.

Leonardo let go of Max’s arm and stepped back. ”You know what? Do it. Fuck it. Let the damn video get sent. I don’t care anymore.”

He’d cracked. Showed his real side.

Xavier’s voice dropped. ”Twenty seconds.”

Maximilian raised the gun again. ”It’s gonna be fine. I won’t miss.”

Leonardo didn’t believe him for a second.

Sure, Max was good. The best at the academy. But this wasn’t a target range. This was real. If he missed, he’d be dead.

Leonardo didn’t trust him, he didn’t trust anyone. He was the quiet one in the group, but he did the most behind the scenes. He pretended to be weak, but he was a sly snake. He always searched for his benefit in every situation.

The trigger clicked.

Bang.

The bullet zipped past.

Missed everything.

Didn’t hit the mug. Didn’t hit Leonardo.

Maximilian’s hands shook. ”No... I don’t miss.”

Xavier tilted his head, hiding a small grin. Of course Max didn’t miss. That was him. First time using his power — telekinesis. He could use it three times. Once every minute. His body still felt weird after using it, but it worked.

He’d yanked the bullet mid-air. Just enough to throw it off.

”Missed,” Xavier said casually. ”No big deal. You were probably nervous. Try again.”

Then he raised his fingers.

”Five seconds left.”

Max didn’t even look at Leonardo this time.

Bang.

The second shot echoed through the room.

This time, the bullet hit the target. Maxmillian’s target was the mug, but... Xavier’s target was Leonardo’s head.

Leonardo’s head jerked back the moment the bullet pierced through. It was clean at first—a tiny burst from the front, like a pinhole of blood popping open above his brow.

Then came the mess.

The back of his skull burst like a cracked melon, chunks of bone and brain splattering the wall behind him. His body recoiled from the impact, his arms flailing once like a puppet with cut strings before he collapsed. His knees buckled, spine twisted, and he dropped sideways with a loud thud. Blood pooled around his head, thick and dark, leaking fast like a tap left open. A piece of his jaw landed near Maximilian’s feet, teeth still clenched as if trying to say something.

His fingers twitched once, then stilled.

The porcelain mug that had been balanced on his head slipped free, turning in mid‑air. Before it could shatter, Xavier caught it effortlessly—like snatching a falling apple. Not a single drop of blood touched the cup.

He set it on the coffee table, perfectly upright, and flicked an imaginary speck from his sleeve. He then turned to Maximilian, completely unfazed, like he’d just saved a damn souvenir from breaking.

”You almost broke your cup,” Xavier said calmly. ”Be careful next time.”

Maximilian couldn’t breathe. The gun shook in his grip; his pulse hammered loud in his ears. He stared—wide‑eyed—at Leonardo sprawled on the floor, crimson streaking the tiles, pooling beneath the limp frame.

A moment ago Leonardo had been alive, arguing. Now... nothing. It was as if his switch was turned off.

Maximilian swayed, nausea clawing up his throat. He’d fired a hundred thousand rounds in competitions—paper targets, moving disks, holograms—but never ever missed.

Xavier stared at the corpse, tilting his head slightly, then let out a soft whistle. ”Damn. That was clean. You really are a gold medalist, huh?” He gave Maximilian a mock clap, slow and steady. ”Right in the middle..”

Maximilian didn’t respond. He just stood there, stiff, frozen, like the world around him had stopped.

Then, as if something clicked, Xavier widened his eyes, slapped a palm to his forehead, and gasped. ”Oh shit! I... totally forgot. I was so shocked by what just happened that I—” he faked a sigh, ”—forgot to cancel the scheduled message.”

Maximilian blinked. ”What...?”

Xavier turned his phone toward him.

”I ended up sending everything to Lucas and Ethan,” Xavier said with a smile so sweet it might rot teeth. ”Oops.”

Maximilian’s pupils shook. His knees looked like they were ready to give up.

Xavier tilted his phone slightly to show the screen. ”Look at that. Seen. Seen.” He laughed. ”Bet they’re watching it right now. Probably jerking it to your girl. You think Ethan likes the part where she called me daddy? Or Lucas liked the facial shot? Oh wait—what kind of porn do they usually watch? This should be right up their alley, no?”

Maximilian couldn’t speak. His brain just wouldn’t work anymore.

And then—

SLAM.

The front door burst open.

Dominic stormed in, fuming. ”MAXIMILIAN—!”

But then he stopped.

His eyes locked on the floor and on the body.

The blood.

The bullet hole in the skull.

He didn’t see the face at first. ”Who the hell—?” he asked as he walked closer.

And then he saw.

He stopped in his tracks. His voice dropped.

”...Leonardo?”

His face contorted. ”What the fuck... what the fuck did you do!?”