The Nova Sanctum’s brig was carved from obsidian steel, each wall layered with suppression fields that hummed like distant thunder. The chamber was cold, the kind of cold that wasn’t from air but from intent—built for things that weren’t supposed to leave once locked inside.
Lucian stood at the doorway, cloak brushing the floor as the cell’s restraints pulsed faint red. Inside, the XX guardian stirred.
The monster was huge even when slumped against the wall. His body was plated in bone-like armor that jutted along his shoulders and arms, almost like a natural exoskeleton. Thick hide stretched over corded muscle, blackened in places from the bombardment. His horns curved upward like jagged spears, cracked but still sharp, and beneath his chest, faint orange veins glowed faintly, pulsing with his blood. His face was a blend of beast and man—elongated jaw, fangs thick as knives, eyes burning an eerie pale yellow even as they flickered in and out of focus.
Lucian pressed a hand against the console. The cell hissed, forcing the guardian awake with a surge of energy through the restraints. The monster jolted, his chains rattling as he tried to rise, but the suppression fields held him down.
Lucian stepped forward, golden eyes cold. "How does it feel?"
The guardian blinked, dazed. "What?"
Lucian’s tone cut sharper. "How does it feel being attacked? Being invaded by a force stronger than you? To watch fire rain down while you’re powerless to stop it?"
The guardian stilled. His eyes narrowed, his breath dragging raggedly through his fangs. For the first time, something flickered across his monstrous face—not rage, but shock.
He leaned forward against the chains, voice deep and guttural. "What world are you from? None of ours... no race speaks like you. No one wields fire from the sky."
Lucian shook his head slowly. "I didn’t ask for your wonder. I asked for an answer." His eyes burned brighter, the air bending faintly around him as if space itself leaned in. "I don’t have time for riddles. I want to clear you and your kind from the land of the living. Every last one of you."
The guardian’s chest rumbled with a low growl. His lips peeled back, baring his jagged fangs. "You think you can? You burned a village and chained one half-dead guardian. That means nothing." His voice rose, a snarl echoing in the brig. "You can try. But I am nothing compared to what waits beyond our borders. There are lords. Warlords. Behemoths that dwarf me as the sky dwarfs the earth. You..." He narrowed his eyes, tilting his head as if studying Lucian. "...you’re no god. You’re just someone at the XXX rank. That power will not be enough. Once you step deeper into our nation, you will face the real monsters."
Lucian didn’t flinch. He let the silence stretch, only the hum of the restraints filling the chamber. Then—he chuckled. Low. Dry.
The sound echoed in the cell, unnatural against the monster’s fury.
Lucian leaned in, his golden eyes glowing faint like fire embers. "Then I’ll just get stronger."
Lucian’s aura spilled out, invisible but crushing. The brig’s lights flickered, the steel walls groaning as the force pressed against them. Space warped faintly around his body, the edges of reality bending at his will.
His voice cut through it, sharp, absolute. "And when I do, I will annihilate your entire race. I will cause a massacre so great the land of the dead will choke on your kind. There won’t be enough space to contain you."
The guardian shrieked.
Not in anger. Not in defiance. But in fear.
His massive body recoiled against the restraints, claws scraping against the energy fields. His fangs gnashed as if trying to swallow the sound back down, but his body trembled under the weight of Lucian’s presence.
Lucian stepped closer, boots echoing. His gaze never broke, unblinking, merciless. "Tell me," he said, his tone quieter now, almost conversational. "What’s your name?"
The guardian froze. His claws stilled. His breath came heavy through his teeth, but he lifted his head slowly, meeting Lucian’s eyes.
His voice cracked when he spoke, guttural but low. "...Xerath."
Lucian tilted his head, as though weighing the name. "Xerath. Good. I prefer to know the names of the ones who will vanish first."
Xerath snarled weakly, chains rattling as he tried to lean forward. "Kill me, then. If you want your massacre, start with me."
Lucian’s lips curved faintly, sharp and cold. "No. You’ll live—for now. You’ll watch. You’ll listen. And you’ll see every piece of your nation burn before I end you."
The monster’s pale eyes shook, rage and fear blending together. But his chains held him still.
Lucian stepped back, his aura withdrawing, leaving only silence and the low hum of the brig. Kaelis stirred faintly outside the cell, molten eyes fixed on Xerath with something close to contempt.
Lucian turned away, his cloak brushing the floor. "Rest while you can, Xerath. Tomorrow, your world begins to end."
The cell hissed as the suppression field surged brighter, locking the guardian deeper into stillness.
And in the silence of the Sanctum’s brig, the monster’s breath shook—not from his wounds, but from the echo of Lucian’s promise.
Lucian left the brig in silence. The door sealed behind him with a heavy hiss, leaving Xerath chained inside. His boots struck the floor slow and steady as he moved down the corridor. The hum of the Sanctum filled the air, low and constant, the kind of sound that never ended, like the ship itself breathed.
He passed the detention wing. The sealed door shimmered faintly, its surface alive with thin lines of energy. Behind it sat Karl, bound by glowing restraints.
Lucian walked past without pause.
The voice stopped him. Calm. Not desperate. Not mocking. Just steady.
Lucian turned his head slightly.
Karl leaned forward in his restraints, arms crossed loosely over his knees. "Do you really mean what you said in there? About wiping them out. Every last one."
Karl smirked. It wasn’t wide, but it carried weight, like he had been waiting for that answer. "Good. I like your confidence." He leaned back against the wall, chains rattling faintly. "I want in. I want to take part. I’ll help you in the massacre of my race."
Lucian studied him for a moment. The silence stretched, broken only by the faint hum of the ship.
Karl tilted his head, that smirk still etched on his face. "Why else? Revenge."
Lucian gave him a skeptical look. "That’s it?"
"That’s it," Karl said, almost casually. "I’m not going to give you some long speech about betrayal or some noble reason. I just want payback. I’ve bled for them, fought for them, and what did they do? They chained me. They spat on me. They called me weak." He let the words hang, then shrugged. "So if you’re offering to burn it all down, then I’ll help you light the fire."
Lucian didn’t answer immediately. He stepped closer, his shadow falling across the restraints. "You’d betray your own kind that easily."
Karl’s smirk sharpened. "Easily? No. I thought about it for a long time. Thought about it every night they left me rotting. Thought about it when they killed the ones who stood with me. You think I hold loyalty to a nation that cast me aside? No. I want to watch it burn. I want to hear them scream. That’s all."
Lucian crossed his arms. "And I should trust you why?"
Karl chuckled under his breath. "You shouldn’t. Not really. But you don’t need to trust me. Point me at them, and I’ll kill them. It’s that simple. My hate is clean. Pure. You can use it."
Lucian studied him longer. Karl didn’t flinch under the weight of his gaze. He just sat there, calm, almost relaxed, the smirk never fading.
"Even if it means your own blood?"
Karl’s voice dropped lower. "Especially my own blood. None of them mean a thing to me anymore. Let them die. Let them all die. That’s the only thing left for me."
The corridor stayed quiet after his words. Lucian’s cloak shifted faintly as he moved back a step.
"You want revenge," Lucian said, his tone flat. "I want extermination. Those are not the same."
Karl’s grin widened. "Maybe not. But they lead to the same end, don’t they? Mountains of corpses. Silence where there used to be screams."
Lucian’s jaw tightened. "You think you can keep up with me?"
"I don’t need to keep up with you," Karl said. "I just need to kill. That’s all I’ve ever been good at. And if that lines up with what you want, then it works, doesn’t it?"
Lucian let the silence stretch again. Karl leaned back against the wall, as if he had already won the point.
Finally, Lucian turned away. "You’re still bound. And for now, you’ll stay that way."
Karl laughed, the sound echoing through the corridor. "Of course. I wouldn’t expect less. But remember this—when the time comes, when you need someone who hates them as much as you do, I’ll be here. Waiting. And I won’t hesitate."
Lucian didn’t answer. He started walking again, his boots steady against the steel floor.
Karl called after him, voice sharp but calm. "You’ll see. My hate burns as bright as yours. When you decide to use it, you’ll know I wasn’t lying."
Lucian kept walking. The door at the end of the corridor hissed open, and he disappeared inside, the sound of the ship swallowing the silence again.
Behind him, Karl leaned back against the restraints, that same smirk still carved into his face. His voice dropped to a murmur, almost to himself. "Let them all die. Every last one."
The detention wing hummed quietly.
And somewhere deeper in the ship, the brig where Xerath was held trembled faintly, as though even chained monsters could feel the storm gathering around them.