First Intergalactic Emperor: Starting With The Ancient Goddess

Time moved differently inside the prison, probably because there was no sense of time in prison and no one could tell what time it was.

Eventually, a mandatory assembly was called across the ward, one of the few events where officials and inmates shared the same space without barriers.

The hall they were led into was massive, built to hold hundreds at once. Platforms lined the sides, elevated enough for staff oversight but not high enough to feel unreachable. Officials stood there in dark uniforms, hands clasped behind their backs, faces neutral. Inmates gathered below in loose clusters, species mixing without any real order, the low noise of conversation filling the space.

Rin scanned the space as they walked in. ”What’s this about?”

”Doesn’t matter,” Xavier said. ”It’s never about what they say.”

They stopped near the edge of the crowd. Species mixed together in loose clusters, some familiar faces, some new, a few watching the officials a little too closely. One of the staff started talking about order, compliance, recent disturbances, the usual noise meant to sound important.

As one of the officials began speaking about regulations, recent incidents, and movement restrictions, Xavier shifted slightly toward Rin and spoke under his breath. ”You remember what I told you?”

Rin nodded once. ”Yeah.”

”Repeat.”

Rin sighed without looking at him. ”Yeah. Mix in. Make friends. Figure out who’s been here the longest. Who actually runs things, not who claims to. Track favors, debts, and who moves resources.”

”And,” Xavier added quietly.

”And what keeps coming up in conversations,” Rin added. ”Places, names, routines. Anything people avoid talking about too much.”

”And...?”

”And what people are scared of,” Rin said. ”Because that usually tells you who matters.”

”Good,” Xavier said. ”Don’t rush it.”

”I won’t,” Rin replied. ”But I’m not enjoying this part.”

”You’re not supposed to.”

The official droned on, words passing over most of the inmates without landing. Xavier’s attention moved instead through the crowd. Who listened and who didn’t. Who stood near whom.

He spotted Klatos a short distance away, wings folded neatly, eyes half-lidded like he was bored out of his mind. Xavier excused himself with a light tap on Rin’s arm and made his way over.

”Klatos,” he said.

The Kla’ots opened one eye and glanced at him. ”You look busy.”

The Kla’ots opened one eye. ”You pick terrible moments.”

”Busy?” Xavier asked.

”Mentally,” Klatos replied. ”Physically, no.”

Xavier stood beside him, facing forward like they were both listening to the speech. ”I need you to keep your ears open.”

Klatos glanced sideways. ”That’s vague.”

”On purpose,” Xavier said. ”I’m looking for something. I don’t know who has it or where it’s buried yet.”

Klatos thought about that longer than he needed to. ”Seems like you’re finally doing what you can here for,” he said finally.

”Yes.”

”That figures,” Klatos muttered. ”What do you need from me?”

”Talk to people you already talk to,” Xavier replied. ”Ask questions you’d normally ask. Don’t make it obvious.”

Klatos let out a breath. ”If this gets messy, it gets messy around me too.”

”I know,” Xavier said. ”That’s why I’m asking instead of assuming.”

Klatos’s wings shifted slightly. ”Alright,” he said. ”I’ll listen. But if I hear something that smells wrong, I’m bringing it to you first.”

”That’s all I want.”

The official wrapped up the speech a minute later, and the crowd started breaking apart immediately, nobody waiting for permission. Rin rejoined Xavier as they moved with the flow back toward the corridors.

”You got him,” Rin said.

”Yeah,” Xavier replied.

Rin glanced around. ”So we’re really doing this.”

”We already are,” Xavier said. ”Just don’t make it look like work.”

Rin shook his head. ”You have a weird definition of subtle.”

Xavier smirked faintly. ”You’ll adapt.”

Days blurred into cycles marked by system announcements and controlled movement. Xavier got comfortable around and learned the patterns and habits of everyone.

A few days later, the routine shifted.

Work rotation.

They were moved out through reinforced gates and onto an open platform carved into the upper layers of the prison complex. The sky opened up above them in a way that made Rin stop for half a second without realizing it. Jupiter filled everything, massive and close, its storms rolling slowly and violently in the distance. The air wasn’t raw vacuum, but it wasn’t Earth either. Filtered, thin, sharp in the lungs if you breathed too deep.

Guards were everywhere. Drones drifting slow arcs overhead. Heavy weapons were mounted onto the platform itself. This wasn’t like inside, where the system watched quietly. Out here, authority made itself visible.

Inmates were spread across different tasks. Cargo sorting. Structural maintenance. Energy conduit repair. Things that looked simple until you noticed how many safety protocols were built around them.

Xavier, Rin, and Klatos ended up assigned to the same section, not by accident, but not openly arranged either. Close enough to talk, but far enough to pretend it was coincidence.

Rin worked a coupler loose and muttered, ”I forgot how good it feels to see the sky.”

”Don’t romanticize it,” Klatos said. ”People fall out here.”

Xavier didn’t look up from the panel he was recalibrating. ”Talk,” he said. ”What did you get?”

Rin tightened a bolt. ”Longest-term inmates aren’t the loud ones. They’re the ones who don’t move much. There’s a group that’s been here since before the management change. Nobody messes with them. Nobody talks about why.”

Although Xavier and Rin lived in the same room, Xavier had instructed Rin not to discuss anything there. He wasn’t sure, but there could be hidden spyware or something similar.

”Names,” Xavier said.

Rin shook his head. ”That’s the thing. They don’t use them. Everyone just calls them custodians.”

Klatos glanced around, wings twitching once as a drone passed overhead. ”That tracks,” he said. ”I heard something similar. The custodians handle old systems. Stuff even the staff doesn’t fully understand anymore.”

Xavier looked up. ”Old how.”

”Pre-expansion,” Klatos replied. ”Before this place was officially a prison. Back when it was something else.”

Rin frowned. ”Something else like what.”

Klatos shrugged. ”Storage. Research. Containment. Depends who you ask. It was constructed fifteen years ago.”

Xavier’s hands slowed slightly. ”Anyone mention restricted zones or something similar aside from the rough layout of the prison that I created?”

Rin nodded. ”Maintenance corridors that don’t show up on current maps. Areas that only open during system realignments. People say things disappear down there.”

Klatos added, ”And not just people. Whole sections that get sealed and forgotten. Some say it’s an execution zone.”

A guard’s voice barked across the platform, ordering another group to pick up the pace. Xavier waited until the noise passed.

”Okay. Whatever that place is... I have to get there.”

”But how...?” Rin asked with a confused and curious look on his face.

”We have to get more people on our side for this,” Klatos suggested.

”Yeah... but... I don’t want any baggage. Let’s try to get an officer or... here me out, a worker who has been here ever since the prison was made.”

Rin and Klatos stared at each other, and then looked at Xavier.

”What?” Xavier asked. ”You got something to say?”

”No.” Rin shook his head.

”I was just wondering how we can trust anyone? What if they betray us?”

”To get betrayed, we first have to trust someone. So let’s start with that, shall we?”