First Intergalactic Emperor: Starting With The Ancient Goddess

Xavier looked between the two of them after the last round, his expression calm in a way that felt almost insulting given the state of the tower.

”So,” he said, ”any of you got a problem with that?”

Rin didn’t answer. He kept his eyes on the cracked floor, jaw tight, like he was still weighing outcomes that no longer mattered. Althea held Xavier’s gaze for a few seconds, then looked away, not conceding, not agreeing either.

They moved together after that, following a narrow service passage that slanted downward toward the executive emergency bay. The lights flickered, but the structure itself held, thick support ribs cutting through the walls like bones. When they reached the reinforced door, it was still sealed, untouched by fire or collapse.

Xavier let out a short breath. ”Guess no one beat us to it.”

Inside, the descent rig was exactly where the blueprints said it would be. One launcher, one harness, one clean exit out of a very ugly situation. No backups. No margin for error.

Xavier turned and held up his cuffed wrists. ”You’ll have to uncuff me.”

Althea shook her head immediately. ”That was never part of the deal.”

Xavier didn’t argue. He tilted his head slightly instead. ”What if I let you use it?”

That made her stop. She turned fully toward him this time, eyes sharp. ”What are you planning?”

”I’m not,” Xavier said. ”You stay here, you die. That’s not a threat, that’s just how this ends. You take the rig, you get a chance to walk out. Seems better than betting your life on a collapsing tower.”

Rin frowned. ”He’s right. Whatever else he is, he’s not lying about that.”

Althea looked at the rig, then back at Xavier. ”And I’m supposed to trust you?”

”You don’t,” Xavier replied. ”You just decide whether dying here proves a point.”

The tower shook again, harder this time. Dust spilled from the ceiling, and one of the wall panels tore loose and slammed into the floor.

Althea swore under her breath, stepped closer, and unlocked the cuffs with a sharp motion. ”If you pull anything—”

”I won’t,” Xavier said. ”You already know I don’t need to.”

As she moved to activate the rig, Xavier leaned back against the wall, watching her work. ”By the way,” he added, tone almost casual, ”your avatar was better in the game. Less... worn, less dull and depressed.”

She didn’t look at him. ”Games aren’t real life.”

”Still,” Xavier said. ”AstraNova suited you.”

Her hands paused for a fraction of a second before continuing. ”I know how to separate games from reality,” she replied. ”You should learn that too.”

Xavier watched Althea secure the harness, then spoke while she worked.

”I did some digging on you,” he said. ”Space Corps. Third-ranked organization under the Interstellar Defense Grid. You served there with your husband. He died during the Sterling Industries fallout, buried under a coup that everyone pretended was an accident.”

Althea’s hands didn’t stop moving, but her jaw tightened. Xavier kept going anyway.

”So tell me this,” he continued. ”Why are you still loyal to justice agencies that protected the people who caused it? Sterling fell because of me. The corruption got burned out because I didn’t wait for permission. Yet I’m the criminal to you. The terrorist. You should be thanking me.”

She finally looked at him. ”I don’t know how you got that information,” she said, voice controlled, ”and I don’t care. My loyalty isn’t to an institution. It’s to a cause.”

”A cause run by the same people every time,” Xavier replied.

”I don’t believe in the justice system,” Althea said. ”I believe in something above it. Something that sees everything and balances it in the end. Call it fate. Call it judgment. Call it a god if you want.”

Xavier almost laughed at that, but it came out quieter than expected. Of all people in that collapsing tower, she was talking about divine justice, and he was the one who carried a goddess’s mark and a system built on impartial judgment. The irony wasn’t lost on him.

”That’s the problem,” Xavier said. ”Your loyalty sits somewhere else, but your actions don’t follow it. You tell yourself justice will arrive on its own if you wait long enough. When it does come, you reject it because it didn’t come wearing the face you wanted.”

Althea didn’t interrupt him.

”You didn’t act,” he went on. ”You hoped. And when someone else did the dirty work, you called them a monster so you wouldn’t have to admit you were too afraid to do it yourself. That’s not morality. That’s comfort.”

For a moment, it looked like she might argue. Instead, she finished locking the rig and reached into her jacket. She tossed a small metal emblem toward him.

Xavier caught it on instinct and looked down at it. ”What’s this supposed to be?”

”A Corps authority emblem,” Althea said. ”Issued to officers with full operational clearance. It opens doors, overrides inspections, and keeps people asking fewer questions than they should.”

He let out a short chuckle. ”Seems wasted on someone about to get buried under a tower.”

”I know you’re planning to leave this planet,” she replied. ”If you survive, keep it. Use it if you have to. I’m not taking responsibility for anything you do with it, and using it without the owner present is illegal.”

”That never stopped anyone important,” Xavier said.

Althea stepped onto the rig, gave Rin a brief look, then met Xavier’s eyes one last time. ”Don’t make me regret this.”

She activated the launcher and dropped out of sight, the rig retracting behind her as the bay shook again.

Rin exhaled slowly and turned to Xavier. ”You could’ve taken that and walked away.”

Xavier slipped the emblem into his pocket. ”She needed it more than I did.”

”And now?” Rin asked.

Xavier rubbed his neck and looked toward the far end of the bay, where a sealed corridor disappeared into darkness. ”Now we use the last option Angel marked. The teleportation gate.”

Rin blinked. ”You’re joking.”

Xavier shook his head. ”I really wish I was.”