First Intergalactic Emperor: Starting With The Ancient Goddess

Xavier’s world snapped back with a violent lurch. His body arched off the ground as if struck by lightning, every vein lit up with searing heat. A raw cry ripped out of his throat before he even realized it. His limbs thrashed against the floor, fingers clawing at nothing.

”Xavier!” Lyra’s voice broke, panicked, as she dropped to her knees beside him. She gripped his shoulders, trying to steady him, but the tremors in his body were too strong. Her eyes glistened with guilt, her words tumbling out fast and sharp. ”It’s my fault. I should’ve stopped him, I should’ve—damn it, wake up!”

Lilia’s hands fluttered uselessly at first, then pressed to his chest as if she could will his heart to calm. ”Don’t you dare leave us like this,” she whispered, her voice trembling, rising higher with every second. ”Come on, open your eyes! Please—please—!”

His back slammed against the floor, air wheezing out of him. His pupils flared with unnatural light for the briefest instant—starbursts glinting in the darkness of his eyes—before vanishing just as quickly, leaving only his ragged gasps behind.

The heat coursing through him was unbearable. The king’s blood still burned in his veins, liquid fire trying to carve itself into something more, but on the outside, nothing happened. No glow, no mark, no visible change.

He choked and rolled onto his side, coughing hard, a bitter metallic taste coating his tongue. His fists dug into the floor until his knuckles split, and still the inferno inside refused to spill out.

Lyra’s hands pressed against his face, her forehead against his. ”Stay with us... stay with us!”

Xavier’s chest heaved, the storm inside subsiding just enough for breath to return. He swallowed hard, his throat scorched raw, and forced his eyes open. They were the same as before, but no trace of the stars, no hint of what had just happened.

But deep inside, the echo of that power coiled in silence, waiting.

Lyra exhaled shakily, relief cracking through her panic. ”He’s breathing... thank the gods, he’s—he’s breathing.”

Lilia didn’t let go. Her fingers trembled against his cheek as she glared down at him, her anger and fear tangled together. ”What the hell did you do, Xavier...”

Xavier said nothing. His body shook, sweat running down his face, but his silence weighed heavier than any scream.

Because he knew. Whatever the king had given him, it was in him now. And he had no idea what it could do.

Xavier pushed against the floor, his arms trembling like they belonged to someone else. His muscles burned, his chest felt heavy, but he forced his body upright. Each breath still scraped like fire in his lungs, yet he straightened his back as if nothing had happened.

Lyra leaned forward instantly, her tail stiff, ears tilted back in worry. ”Don’t move yet, are you even—”

Lilia’s hand caught his sleeve, her wide eyes searching his face. ”Does it hurt? Tell us where—tell us what’s wrong.”

He pulled his arm free, steadying himself on one knee before standing. His body swayed once, but he caught it, forcing a small, crooked smirk. ”I’m completely fine.” His voice was hoarse, but steady enough. He glanced at Lyra, almost smug in the way he delivered it. ”Told you I’d be alright.”

Lyra’s lips parted, doubt etched across her face. Her amber eyes didn’t trust what she was seeing. ”Really? You’re sure?”

He gave a half-shrug, tilting his head toward her. ”If you don’t believe me... check for yourself.”

That left her quiet, her fists clenching at her sides. She didn’t step closer. She didn’t call his bluff.

Instead, her voice softened, a question she had no choice but to ask. ”Then... what did you see?”

Xavier’s expression dimmed for the first time since standing. His gaze dropped, not in weakness, but in thought, weighing what to give and what to keep. ”My ancestor,” he said finally. ”That’s all I know.”

His eyes flicked toward the slate lying on the floor. He crouched, picked it up, and turned it in his hand, as if nothing had just thrown him into convulsions. Then he slipped it under his arm and headed for the hall.

”It’s late,” he said over his shoulder, his tone clipped, final. ”I’m going to sleep. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

He didn’t wait for their reply. The soft click of his door shutting marked the end of the conversation he clearly didn’t want to have.

Lyra stayed where she was, arms folded tight against her chest, her tail twitching in sharp little flicks. Lilia sat down slowly on the couch, her fingers gripping the edge of the cushion like she was afraid she might sink.

”...He’s lying,” Lyra muttered, breaking the silence first. Her voice was low, but edged, like she was trying not to snap. ”I don’t know what he saw, but he’s not fine. Did you see his body? The way it... reacted?”

Lilia nodded, biting her lip. ”I did. He... he scared me. For a second, I thought...” She trailed off, her voice shrinking, and then she buried her face in her hands.

Lyra’s ears lowered slightly. She didn’t step closer, but her tone softened. ”He’s stubborn. Always has to act like he’s unshakable.” Her gaze turned toward the hall, her amber eyes narrowing. ”But something changed. I felt it.”

Neither spoke for a moment, the quiet filled only by the hum of the city outside the windows.

Finally, Lilia let out a shaky breath and looked up. ”Should we... ask him again? Press him?”

Lyra shook her head. ”Not tonight. He won’t say anything, and pushing will only make him shut us out harder.” She exhaled slowly, the tension in her shoulders loosening just a little. ”Tomorrow. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

Lilia nodded, though her worry didn’t ease. She rose from the couch, giving Lyra a faint, tired smile before heading down the hall to her room.

Lyra stayed a moment longer, glancing at Xavier’s closed door with a mix of frustration and concern, then turned away and disappeared into her own room.