First Intergalactic Emperor: Starting With The Ancient Goddess

”Stay in the car,” Xavier said, his voice calm but absolute as he stared at the two. ”I’ll return shortly.”

Angel frowned, crossing her arms. ”Not a chance. You’re walking into that thing alone?”

Lyra, still flushed and breathing unevenly, shook her head weakly. ”I’m coming too...”

Xavier’s gaze cut to her — serious, and concerned. Then to Angel. ”No, you’re not.” His tone carried a finality that silenced the both of them. ”Lyra’s not in good shape. She needs rest — control — whatever it takes to cool her down before it gets worse.”

He stepped closer, lowering his voice just enough for them to hear over the hum of the hovercar. ”Angel, you stay with her. Don’t let her strain herself, and keep her in front of the AC. I’ll handle this and be back before either of you can argue again.”

Angel opened her mouth, ready to protest, but Xavier was already walking away. His jacket shifted with the wind, boots echoing across the cracked concrete as he moved toward the towering structure ahead.

The air grew heavier the closer he got, like the factory itself was breathing. Rusted pillars leaned like the bones of giants, and the dull red glow from somewhere inside pulsed faintly.

Halfway there, Xavier raised his hand, and a faint shimmer of blue glass opened in front of him — his system interface. With a thought, he scrolled past tabs until the Dimensional Store opened, the menu lines flickering like circuitry across the night air. He switched to his Wishlist.

There it was.

[Item: Aether-Veil Gauntlets]

Description scrolled beneath the name in fine script:

Forged from dimensional alloy and sealed with quantum null runes. The Aether-Veil Gauntlets negate all forms of impact — physical, kinetic, or magical — by redirecting incoming energy into an inert dimensional fold. Anything that touches the gauntlet loses its destructive property on contact. However, the wearer will also lose all of their abilities and they will need to take off the gloves before using any attacks.

In short — if it could touch his hands, it couldn’t hurt him.

Xavier smirked faintly and tapped Purchase. The system chimed.

[Purchase Confirmed: 1 justice point deducted.]

[Item delivered.]

A soft flash lit the air, and sleek black gloves materialized on his hands — smooth, seamless, with faint blue lines running across the surface like veins of light. The gloves tightened automatically to his wrists, humming with low power.

”Perfect,” he muttered, flexing his fingers as a ripple of distortion shimmered across the surface.

The massive metal door of the factory loomed ahead — thick, reinforced, and locked from the inside. Xavier looked up at it once, then raised his hand, and knocked on it.

A small panel slid open at eye level, revealing a pair of cybernetic eyes that scanned him with cold precision. ”I’m here to claim what’s mine.”

The door then opened and he went inside.

While Xavier was having his ’deal’ inside, outside, Angel leaned toward Lyra, her tone steady but her expression betraying the unease beneath. ”Sit down,” she said, placing a firm hand on Lyra’s shoulder. ”You need to rest before you collapse.”

Lyra shook her head, her voice shaky. ”I can’t just sit here while he’s in there. You felt that place—something’s off. How can you let him go alone?”

Angel exhaled through her nose, forcing calm into her tone. ”Because if anyone can walk out of that alive, it’s him.”

Lyra’s hands curled into fists, frustration sparking in her golden eyes. ”That’s not an answer! You know it could be dangerous!”

Angel didn’t reply right away. Her gaze drifted to the factory’s dark outline—its flickering lights painting the night like slow lightning. She knew damn well how dangerous it was. And she also knew what Xavier was walking into. But what Lyra didn’t know was why Angel wasn’t panicking.

She had already taken precautions. Before coming here, she’d reached out to Victor’s assistant—Krell. The conversation had been short but enough to turn the game upside down.

When Angel revealed who she really was, Krell had frozen. For a moment, his voice on the comms cracked like static, and then the dam burst. He spilled everything.

Victor had assembled over five hundred mercenaries—killers, hired guns, guards, whatever he could afford—to ambush Xavier. The plan was clean, final, and bloody.

But Angel didn’t let that happen. She told Krell to call it off.

Not with kindness. With terms.

”Tell them not to touch him,” she’d ordered. ”Or I will reveal your location to my father.”

Krell didn’t argue. He didn’t even hesitate. Within minutes, he confirmed her request, swore he’d handled it, and begged for his life. Angel had kept her word—she let him go.

But Krell was smart. The moment the line went dead, he vanished. Packed up, ditched Victor, and was now halfway to Jupiter, changing his identity once again, and looking for a new name and a new life.

hat was why Angel hadn’t stopped Xavier. Why she hadn’t begged to go in. She trusted him. And she believed her order had bought him safety.

Or so she thought.

Because just as that fragile sense of calm settled over her—

BANG—

The night split open. Not once, but hundreds of times over. A roar of gunfire—sharp, synchronized, and close enough to shake the ground under their feet.

The air lit up for a second with flashes from the factory’s shattered windows.

Lyra’s head snapped toward the sound. Her breath hitched. ”No... no, no, no—” She stumbled out of the car, nearly falling to her knees, then started running toward the building.

”Lyra, wait!” Angel shouted, stepping out, but her voice broke halfway through. Her body went stiff, her eyes wide.

She had bought them. She’d made sure they wouldn’t shoot. So why... why the hell were they firing?

Her mind short-circuited, spinning through fragments—Xavier’s smirk, his words, the way he’d looked at her before walking off. The static hum of her own voice when she’d told Krell to ”make sure they don’t touch him.”

For the first time in a long time, Angel felt fear. Not the kind that makes you alert—but the kind that freezes your lungs.

Then, before the scream she’d been holding could escape—she saw movement.

The factory door creaked open, light spilling out in thin, crooked lines.

And there he was.

Xavier stepped out through the smoke, calm as dusk, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. His clothes were untouched. The ground behind him was littered with what looked like debris shrouded by red haze. In his hands, he held a dark mahogany box, its metal hinges glinting under the dim light.

Angel froze mid-breath. Lyra stopped running, her heartbeat hammering loud enough to echo in her skull.

He didn’t say anything at first. Just looked at the box, admiring it like it was a prize from a game he already knew he’d win.

The fragment inside the box was going to give Xavier a new power system, and he couldn’t wait for what it could be. So far, the fragment hadn’t made contact with Xavier or tried to talk to him like the power fragment did, but Xavier was sure that everything will be fixed as long as he takes the fragment to the goddess.

Then he looked up at them.

”Let’s go,” he said, voice casual—like nothing had happened at all.