It took Asef only a few subtle, calculated manipulations to secure a spot in the 56th company.
He pulled the right strings, whispered the right lies, planted the right rumors.
By the ti the reassignnt ca, no one questioned it.
No one ever did.
He t his new "comrades" with the sa mask he had worn for decades. A asured smile, a respectful nod, just enough camaraderie to fit in without inviting attention.
Another performance in a long line of them.
And so, his fake training began.
He played his role like a professional. Learned the routines. Blended in.
But it didn't take long before their orders arrived.
A galactic mission.
They were being sent beyond the known charts—to a different solar system entirely, one that hadn't been charted or touched.
An exploratory deploynt.
Exactly as the seer had predicted.
Asef was quiet when he heard the announcent.
No one noticed the way his fingers curled slightly.
The way his breath caught, just for a second.
He was nervous. Of course, he was.
He hadn't been given guarantees. Only pieces.
Ro had said she couldn't tell him the future. That saying it out loud would change it.
But she had still sent him here.
Which ant sothing was supposed to happen. Sothing important.
And he needed to survive to see it.
A few days later, they boarded the vessel.
A marvel of their empire's engineering. Sleek, polished, blindingly fast. It had passed every simulation, every test.
But this would be its first true voyage.
Its first mission across the stars.
The flight crew—so of the best in the empire—moved with precision and pride. Even they, seasoned as they were, carried a hint of awe in their eyes.
No one spoke of failure. Only discovery.
The ship roared to life, piercing through wormholes and lightfields with dizzying speed.
Even Asef, jaded and half-dead inside, found himself silently stunned.
But that awe didn't last.
They reached their destination—a bright, swirling solar system on the far edge of the known galaxy.
And were attacked almost imdiately.
They had made no attempt at communication. No broadcast. No diplomacy.
To the natives of that system, they were nothing more than an unidentified threat.
And they responded with force.
Energy beams shattered against the hull. The ship lurched. Sirens scread.
The crew scrambled to respond, but even their expert hands couldn't keep them safe for long.
So, they did the only thing they could.
They ran.
The ship, the fastest ever constructed, turned and fled into space, leaving a trail of chaos behind.
But even speed had its limits.
The enemy was close. Too close.
And so, in desperation, they began jumping between wormholes at random.
No planning. No mapping. Just escape.
One blind leap after another.
And then—
Silence.
Darkness.
Nothing.
They had escaped. But at a price.
They didn't know where they were. The maps were useless. The comms were dead.
No stars outside matched any recorded constellations.
They were lost.
Truly lost.
Panic spread quickly.
Officers argued. Pilots searched for signals. So prayed. Others scread.
But Asef?
Asef sat alone in his bunk, calm.
He had known.
Not the details. Not the exact how or why.
But the mont he saw the assignnt, he knew it wasn't a normal mission.
He wasn't ant to co back the way he left.
He leaned back, thinking.
There were no escape routes. No path ho.
Even if he tried to return, wormholes were unstable. Chaotic. They didn't follow rules.
He would drift forever.
And Ro—the seer—had never promised he would survive.
Just that he had to do this.
Was it a trick? A way to get rid of him?
Was she protecting Efsa by sending him here?
Asef's hands tightened into fists.
No.
Even if that were true, he wouldn't let it be the end.
He wouldn't give her the satisfaction.
There was enough food to last a single person a few weeks.
So, he made a decision.
If he was going to survive long enough to find what he was ant to, he would need to be the only one left.
And with that thought, the killing began.
Quiet. Efficient.
The crew were soldiers, yes—but none of them could match him.
Not with what he carried inside.
He didn't take pleasure in it. Not joy. Not sorrow. Just a necessity.
By the end of it, the ship was silent again.
Completely.
For the next two weeks, he searched.
Navigational data. Power grids. Star readings. Holographic scans.
Nothing.
The galaxy might as well have disappeared.
Eventually, the food ran out.
He shut off the engines. Left only the ergency power and proximity sensors active.
And then, he made his final move.
There was one last option.
One last trick.
Asef had a power that even Ro might not have seen.
Sothing she hadn't spoken of.
He would bet everything on that.
He entered the stasis pod, designed for long voyages. For journeys without end.
And closed his eyes.
This, too, was part of his plan now.
He would sleep.
Until the universe found him.
Or until he found the end of it.
***
Arlon didn't know how much ti had passed.
It was strange. Like before—like the ti he had relived Efsa's life—he had felt every mont as if he were truly there, living through it breath by breath.
And yet, at the sa ti, it was as if no more than a blink had gone by.
The mories ca like waves. Deep. Exhausting. But distant too, like they belonged to soone else.
Still, he rembered everything.
Every choice. Every thought. Every regret that shaped Asef into what he had beco.
And eventually, within that vision, the silence broke.
A shrill alarm rang out.
Asef opened his eyes.
The pod hissed, pressure releasing as its systems ca to life. He sat up, slowly, as if shaking off centuries of sleep.
The stasis had worked.
Of course, he was like a skeleton again since he hadn't eaten for too long. But he wasn't dead.
And more than that, sothing had found him.
On the screen beside the pod, proximity readings flickered. A star system.
A real one.
Not void. Not darkness.
A chance.
He activated the power systems. Lights blinked on. Consoles humd.
The ship's guidance system connected to basic sensors and began calculating an approach trajectory.
A few minutes later, the ship began to descend.
The planet's surface pulled into view.
A safe landing.
There were no hostile signals. No weapon locks. No warning sirens.
Nothing tried to shoot him out of the sky.
Asef narrowed his eyes.
That alone was suspicious.
Was he on a planet without technology? Without ships or satellites or planetary defense?
He didn't know. And he didn't care.
Not yet.
The landing gear deployed with a low hum, and the ship touched down.
The ramp opened.
Asef stepped out, his boots pressing into real earth for the first ti in years.
The air was warm. The gravity was slightly lighter than his howorld. But breathable. Comfortable.
He raised his hand, activating a scanner. It swept in a wide arc across the area.
And then—
Results ca in.
Life signs. Dense ones.
And not just basic life.
Magic.
The readings showed high ambient mana levels. Spikes in several regions that suggested strong magical concentrations.
He frowned.
This planet, called Yaka, had magic.
And unlike his planet, there were a lot of magicians.
It was alive with power.
But the data on its inhabitants shocked him.
They weren't like the people he knew.
Called Keldars, they looked like so fusion of existences.
Each one seed different from the last, like their forms shifted depending on sothing unseen.
So looked like beasts. Others like n. A few, sowhere in between.
But they all radiated strength.
There were even so Keldars that the scanner couldn't read.
Asef didn't flinch.
It didn't matter what they looked like.
What mattered was that this world had what he needed.
It had magic.
It had isolation.
And it had no trace of his brother.
This world would do.
For now, Yaka would be his base.
He would learn its laws.
Understand its people.
And bend it to his will—quietly, patiently—until it beca what he needed it to be.
A stepping stone.
Toward revenge.
Toward the future.
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