Legacy of the Void Fleet

The supreme being leaned forward on his throne. His fingers drummed once against the armrest.

With the tapping of his fingers, the Supreme Being stirred. A thought caressed his mind, and the tapping quickened.

Then, he moved—or rather, willed—and reality bent. Countless universes, timelines, and layers of existence slowed, compelled to obey his will.

Meanwhile, aboard the still cloaked Obliterator-class dreadnought, still cloaked and hidden deep within the spatial layer, Kallus watched the battlefield unfold—or more accurately, the slaughter.

As Kallus watched the slaughter unfold, listening to his subordinate through the fleet-wide comms, a strange sensation washed over him.

At first, it was subtle—something he felt, or perhaps perceived, deep within. But the feeling surged before he could even begin to make sense of it.

A ripple—no, a pull—echoed through his very soul.

Then, in an instant, without warning or time to react, his consciousness was wrenched from his body, yanked free by an overwhelming force beyond understanding.

There was no consent. No warning. Just the overwhelming force of something far greater than him dragging him out of himself.

Kallus didn’t even have time to process a single coherent thought before it all happened.

Wha... what... who...The fragmented thoughts flickered through Kallus’s mind—disjointed, panicked—before everything went still.

Then, nothing.

A blankness, vast and suffocating, surrounded him. No sound. No light. No time. Just the void.

Yet even in that emptiness, a single thought echoed—brief, uncertain, but sharp enough to pierce the silence.

Was it... him? The Being...?

Meanwhile, as Kallus’s consciousness was pulled away, time outside his body slowed—drastically. So much so, it was as if reality itself had been frozen in place.

Turbo laser batteries, which normally fired at near light-speed, appeared nearly motionless—crawling forward by mere millimeters. Slower weapons seemed utterly suspended in the void, frozen in a moment that refused to pass.

It wasn’t just a delay.

Time had truly been bent to a crawl, distorted by a force far beyond comprehension.

All of this happened by the sheer will of the Supreme Being.

Kallus’s awareness reassembled—reformed into its true shape—and when it did, he found himself standing in a grand throne room.

A faint barrier shimmered around him. Was it protecting him? Or confining him? He couldn’t tell. Both, maybe. It unsettled him.

Kallus’s awareness snapped back into shape—reassembling into its true form: his dragon form.

When it did, he found himself standing... somewhere else.

What the hell is this place?

The thought echoed in his mind as his eyes scanned his surroundings.

Only to find himself standing in an immense chamber, flanked by towering pillars on either side, so tall their peaks vanished into the endless multicolored clouds above.

Each one of the pillars carved with strange, intricate markings that almost looked like runes, but he couldn’t make sense of them. Staring too long made his head throb and his chest tighten, like the symbols were speaking in a language meant for something far beyond him.

It was as if his very soul, which was literally indestructible, was straining to comprehend something it wasn’t meant to.

A sharp gasp escaped him as he staggered slightly, overwhelmed by the sheer weight of the place.

The chamber felt like an ancient throne room—grand, timeless, sacred. A place drenched in solemn majesty. The air buzzed with age and purity, like even time bowed here.

Once he tore his eyes from the surroundings, Kallus turned his focus inward—and that’s when he felt it. Something was around him.

A presence. A force.

He narrowed his eyes and reached out. His claws touched nothing... but something was there.

A barrier.

Faint, almost invisible—but powerful. Even with all his strength, he couldn’t dent it. Couldn’t even make it ripple.

A shield?

Was it protecting him? From what?

Or was it a prison?

And again—why?

He had no answers. Just a swarm of questions that knotted tighter with every breath. It left him shaken, uneasy.

He had a guess, though. About who brought him here.

But it was only a guess.

”Don’t be confused, mortal,” came a voice.

Familiar. Too familiar.

Kallus froze.

And then—just like before—Kallus felt the pull.

He looked around, tense, but found himself still in the same chamber. Still surrounded by the towering pillars, still wrapped in the invisible barrier. But now there was one difference.

A massive staircase had appeared before him, carved from the same stone as the chamber—broad, ancient, imposing. At the top of it sat a throne. Vast. Regal. Majestic.

And on that throne, slouched like he had nothing better to do, sat the supreme being.

His figure was still shrouded in darkness—so deep it looked like the void itself had formed a cloak around him. Only his eyes were visible. Faintly. Dimly. But unmistakably watching.

His figure was still shrouded in darkness—so deep it looked like the void itself had formed a cloak around him. Only his eyes were visible. Faintly. Dimly. But unmistakably watching

Kallus let out a breath through his nose. His theory was confirmed. It was him.

The being looked bored, lounging on his throne—but Kallus wasn’t fooled. There was a weight in the air around him. An oppressive, quiet intensity. The kind of power that didn’t need to boast.

The being didn’t speak right away.

He just let the silence stretch, reading Kallus’s mind like it was a scroll laid bare. He saw the confusion. The unease. The questions.

Then he finally spoke, his voice low, calm, and ancient:

”The barrier around you is for your protection, Kallus. This is a place where your very essence—everything but your soul—would be obliterated. Your soul might survive, yes... but it would sleep for a long, long time. And believe me—”

A slight smile flickered behind the shadows.

”You don’t want that.”

Kallus went pale. Even he felt the spike of fear.

”Wha… what?” he stammered, swallowing instinctively though he had no saliva.

The Supreme Being gave a lazy chuckle, low and rumbling, echoing through the incomprehensibly vast throne room like thunder rolling across creation itself.

”What?” the Being repeated, voice steeped in amusement. ”You heard me, Kallus.”

He didn’t move, didn’t need to. Merely the weight of his presence shifted, and the air—or whatever passed for air in this place—grew heavy with incomprehensible power. Reality itself felt thinner here, fragile, like one wrong breath would tear a hole in existence.

Kallus, even as a being who’d transcended the mortal and even become a mighty dragon, felt small.

”This realm,” the Supreme Being continued, gesturing idly with a flick of his void-like, darkness-cloaked hand, ”is not a place someone of your level should even be able to approach—let alone walk freely within. The very air here is saturated with the raw power of true Creation and Destruction, along with other Supreme, High, and Grand Laws in their most potent, unrefined form. If not for the barrier shielding you… you would have already ceased to exist. Your body would have unraveled, just as I said.”

”If that barrier bothers you so much,” the being said slowly, ”should I make it disappear?”

There was a scream buried in that voice—not a loud one, but a subtle, razor-thin thread of something cruel. Mocking. Twisted.

Kallus felt it in his bones.

Even in his ethereal form, a cold sweat broke over him.

He watched the being lift one hand—casual, almost lazy—but Kallus knew better. The supreme being was playing with him, toying with his reactions like a god poking a flame just to see it dance.

And still, Kallus couldn’t stop himself.

”No!” he barked, louder than he meant to. ”No, don’t! There’s no problem at all!” His voice cracked. ”Keep the barrier—it’s fine. I want it there!”

The being tilted his head, shadows curling where his mouth might have been.

”Are you sure?” he said, mockery dripping from every syllable. ”I could remove it. If you’d like.”

Kallus felt a wild, reckless urge clawing at him—a scream, a challenge, a death wish—but he shoved it down. Forced his breathing steady. No matter what provocation the being threw at him, he would not give him that satisfaction.

He didn’t move.

Don’t speak.

Don’t speak.

keep quiet, keep quiet..

The supreme being just smirked as he again read Kallus’ mind...

The Supreme Being said, his glowing white eyes narrowing as they fixed upon Kallus. ”This is why I granted you the barrier—to prevent the outside forces of this realm from reaching you while we speak. After all, we wouldn’t want our conversation to end before it begins.” His voice echoed with timeless authority. ”As for why I brought you here so suddenly, without warning or explanation... well, I hardly need your permission, do I?”

Kallus grimaced inwardly at the statement, but fear gripped him too tightly to allow anything other than acceptance. He forced a smile, masking his unease, and spoke with practiced humility, even managing to sound sincere.

”Of course not. Why would you need my permission? Who am I, standing before someone like you?”