The sky above NullFlux Bastion shimmered in a pale silver hue—a metallic dawn cast by the fortress's towering luminescent shields. That cold light seeped through the tall ferro-glass windows and spilled into the endless corridors below, painting everything in a quiet, metallic glow.
Nova walked through those corridors with his hands lazily tucked into his pockets, his medium-length hair shifting with each step as if reacting to the faint circulation winds humming through the walls. His expression held its usual gentle calm, yet his eyes held that faint spark—familiar warmth with a hint of mischief that only those close to him could read.
He looked around.
Obsidian Fang personnel moved with practiced precision—each wearing a pitch-black uniform lined with a vertical black strip running from the neck down to the buttons. Thin crimson accents marked their collars and cuffs. The corridor felt like a river of discipline flowing around him.
Nova slowed his pace, letting out a light breath.
"I always forget this place is insanely huge…" he muttered under his breath, eyes scanning left and right like he had stepped into a maze he had no map for.
Eventually he arrived at the central reception—an enormous circular desk of obsidian steel and polished glass. Holographic displays floated above it, rotating quietly with data streams and mission logs.
The receptionist looked up, smiling politely.
"Do you need something, sir?"
Nova gave a small nod. "Yeah. I need to visit Supreme Commander Zazm."
The effect was instant.
The receptionist froze.
The staff members behind her froze.
Even the people walking past stopped mid-step, heads turning with stiff anxiety.
The receptionist swallowed, her polite smile now trembling.
"I-I'm sorry, sir… but even if you were a king, you cannot directly meet him."
Nova blinked, amused. "He's that much of a noble person?"
Her expression sharpened into something serious—borderline fearful.
"Supreme Commander Zazm can only be met by the Queen of Euphoria or the other Supreme Commanders. Besides them, no one can meet him unless he invites them personally."
Nova raised a brow. "Why are you getting angry here?"
He lifted his left hand, showing the bracelet.
The woman shook her head firmly.
"It doesn't matter whose protocol you ha—"
"Just check it," Nova cut in, irritation slipping into his tone.
She hesitated but scanned it—and instantly shot up from her seat, eyes wide, breath caught.
Nova pulled his hand back casually. "So… I can go now?"
She bowed her head so fast her hair nearly hit the desk.
"I—I'm terribly sorry… I didn't know you were one of the Catalysts…"
Nova's brows lifted slightly. "You know about us?"
Before she could answer, another staff member stepped forward—a man equally nervous.
"We h-have heard some… rumors."
Nova leaned in with the slow, predatory curiosity of a cat.
"Like?"
He smirked internally.
Are they scared? This is fun.
Before he could push further, a sharp voice cut through the air.
"Stop it."
Everyone's posture straightened.
Some even bowed reflexively.
Neo walked forward—expression cold, steps crisp like blades tapping the floor.
"What the hell are you doing?" he asked without raising his voice.
Nova shrugged. "Oh, me? Nothing. Just lost my way."
Neo grabbed him by the neck—not gently.
"I'll help you find it."
Nova chuckled. "That won't be necessary, sir. I'm sure you're busy."
Neo shoved him away lightly and faced the staff.
"Don't worry. This guy means no harm."
He was about to leave when the nervous man suddenly blurted:
"N-No, sir Neo—it's not that we're scared!"
Nova blinked, genuinely surprised. "Then why are you treating me like a T-Rex in a supermarket?"
Neo turned with a sour expression. "A what?"
Nova waved a hand. "It's a 21st-century joke. You wouldn't get it."
The man stammered, "I-It's just… we didn't know how to communicate with him, that's all."
Nova burst into laughter—full, loud, echoing across the hall.
"Th-That's all?" he wheezed. "I thought it was something serious."
He wiped a tear from his eye, still grinning.
"Talk to me however you want. It's not that big of a deal."
The man exhaled in relief. "That's… reassuring."
Nova offered a warm smile.
"Rank and status mean nothing. Keep your heart and respect high too."
The man stared at him—surprised, maybe even inspired—then smiled warmly.
"You're a good person, Sir… um—"
"Jahanox Nova," Nova said with a laugh.
"But just call me Nova."
He turned and followed Neo.
Neo side-eyed him. "So you know."
"Know what?" Nova asked innocently.
Neo's hand flexed subtly—like gripping an invisible sword.
Nova immediately raised both hands. "Let's not resort to violence."
He chuckled. "I know enough. Having Rhyes and Zazm's protocol means something."
Neo gave him a sharp glance.
Nova sighed. "The entire Bastion knows Catalysts exist. Or remnants who fight for humanity."
Nova's playful expression softened into something serious.
"Honestly? I wanted to see how they'd react if I played oblivious. If I wanted to hide I'm a remnant… I wouldn't have let them scan the bracelet."
Neo paused, looking at him quietly.
"It's the first time you've called yourself a 'remnant.'"
Nova tapped his skull. "That's what we are. The crystal proves it."
"Then what about all that bullshit of being a human?"
Nova smiled slightly, "Sir Neo, remnants are humans aswell the only difference is this crystal besides that we are all same in the end it's our heart and moral they seperate them from us."
Neo's jaw tightened.
"They're not humans. They're monsters."
Nova nodded thoughtfully. "Perhaps they are."
Neo glanced away. "So what did you get?"
Nova sighed. "They weren't impulsive toward me at all."
Neo nodded. "They've accepted Zazm. Accepting who he accepts—means loyalty. Everyone in this uniform carries that."
Nova whistled softly. "That's a heavy sentence, Sir Neo."
"I can bear the weight," Neo replied sharply.
Nova chuckled. "Anyway, I was wondering something."
Neo stopped. "What?"
"Why didn't you or Asher become a Supreme Commander?"
Neo stared at him, deadpan.
"What do you think would happen if Asher became a Supreme Commander?"
Nova tilted his head. "Huh?"
Neo clicked his tongue.
"The entire Bastion would turn into an amusement park."
"What?" Nova burst into laughter, genuinely shocked.
Neo nodded. "You know he's messed up in the head. But then again… so are you."
"I'm normal," Nova said, fake-offended.
"Whatever the fuck you say," Neo replied in the same sour tone.
Nova grinned. "Anyway—Sir Neo, you didn't answer the question."
Neo paused mid-step.
"I'm not capable of leading even one person. Let alone an army."
Nova blinked—caught off guard by the sincerity.
Neo turned away. "I forgot why I came here. Do what you came for."
"Uh… okay," Nova murmured as Neo departed.
He rubbed his neck. "What was that about…"
Finally he reached Zazm's office and raised a hand to knock—
"He isn't here right now."
Nova turned. "Dennis! How are you?"
Dennis bowed politely.
"I'm great, Sir Nova. How have you been?"
"Good. You know where this guy is?"
"Supreme Commander Zazm is in the training hall."
"Oh, I see."
"Should I escort you?" Dennis asked.
Nova waved. "Nah, you're busy. I'll go."
Dennis smiled.
"I am busy. But I'd be happy to take you."
Nova smirked. "Then take me."
***
Zazm slid backward across the pristine floor—his white shirt stretched slightly, black trousers loose around his legs. Sleek black weight-bands were attached to his wrists and ankles. His hair was tied back into a small ponytail, exposing his cold, unreadable eyes.
Zephyra shot toward him with a kick—her form flickering almost weightlessly. Zazm raised his left hand, blocking the impact with brutal efficiency.
He countered with a sharp jab.
Zephyra dipped under it, caught his arm with both hands, twisted, and used the momentum.
Her body snapped horizontally, legs extending—
She struck.
Zazm raised his other arm.
BOOM—
The impact detonated the air into a shockwave.
Zephyra landed lightly, exhaling.
"I thought I got you."
She wore a loose black shirt, black trousers, and her purple hair was tied in a neat bun. Her galaxy-like eyes shimmered faintly.
Zazm wiped sweat with a towel—expression unchanged.
"Let's stop here."
Zephyra tilted her head, lips curling mischievously.
"Don't tell me you're tired already."
"Who's tired?" Zazm replied—flat, emotionless.
Zephyra stood straighter.
"There's a difference. I'm just consciousness. If I had a body, it'd be different."
Zazm turned slightly.
"I suppose… I have a visitor."
"Visitor?" she blinked.
"It's Nova."
"Oh. I see."
She stretched a little. "So I can rest now?"
Zazm gave the smallest nod.
Zephyra moved behind him—and leapt up, wrapping her arms around him, letting her entire weight hang loosely. Her head rested on his shoulder, purple strands falling over his chest and neck like drifting ribbons.
***
Dennis and Nova arrived outside the training hall.
Nova stared at the facility.
"These training rooms are insane…"
"Of course," Dennis said, tapping a wall.
"They're designed for 0-Star soldiers. They can survive their attacks."
"They're that strong?"
"Yes. This material is a rare mineral—two hundred thousand times harder than diamond."
Nova's eyes widened. "I didn't know I was this strong."
Dennis chuckled. "You're also amazing, Sir Nova."
Nova grinned. "Appreciate it."
Dennis stopped at a large black door."This is where Supreme Commander Zazm usually trains."
Nova frowned. "The door's locked."
Dennis pointed. "Your bracelet might open it."
Nova scanned it. A red light flashed. Nova stared at it, betrayed.
"…What is this now."
Before he could complain further, the door slid open.
Nova and Dennis stepped inside.
The training hall was vast—pure, with thin black grid lines etched across floor and ceiling. The space looked like a blank dimension—cold, silent, infinitely advanced yet hauntingly empty.
Nova raised a hand in greeting.
"Yoo, Supreme Commander—what's up?"
Zazm cracked his neck, sweat still dripping down.
"Training."
Nova whistled. "I thought the Supreme Commander was already strong enough."
Zazm didn't bother acknowledging the comment.
"Is there something you need?"
"Yes," Nova nodded. "But before that—I have a question."
Zazm closed his eyes slightly.
"…Ask."
Nova pointed around.
"How do you train in an empty room like this?"
Zazm snapped his fingers.
A robotic figure materialized from light—humanoid, metallic, with a blue core glowing in its chest.
Nova's eyes sparkled pointing at the dummy. "You use these Clankers? What would they even d—"
He pivoted instantly.
The robot struck, missing his neck by a hair.
Nova's eyes widened.
Fast. Strong too.
He counter-kicked—
The robot shattered into blue particles and vanished.
Nova exhaled.
"Looks like the tin can minded what I said."
He laughed lightly, then looked at Zazm.
"These things are sick."
"They can be as strong as Zero-Star threats," Zazm replied.
Nova let out a long whistle.
"That's crazy."
Dennis added, "This room can create a dummy equal to a Summoner as well."
Nova blinked.
"Then why don't we let them fight wars?"
Zazm answered flatly, "They're illusions. Their attacks pass right through you."
Nova nodded.
"Yeah… makes sense. That's why it vanished after I kicked it."
The vast white of the training hall still hummed faintly with residual energy when Nova lowered his gaze to Zazm's wrists and ankles. The black bands clung there unnaturally tight, matte and unassuming—yet something about them felt wrong, as if gravity itself bent around them.
Nova pointed lazily at his own hands, then toward Zazm.
"And I'm guessing those are some kind of weights?"
Zazm gave a slight nod. No explanation. No embellishment.
Dennis, standing a little to the side, adjusted his posture and spoke instead.
"They're compressed mass weights."
Nova squinted. "Explain in simpler terms."
Dennis nodded. "They compress enormous amounts of mass into a very small volume. They're forged from the densest materials known—usually remnants of neutron stars scattered across the universe. Forging them takes an absurd amount of time and skill."
Nova blinked once. Then twice.
"…Okay, but how much do they weigh? If that's the case shouldn't they be, like—hundreds of kilograms?"
"They are," Zazm said calmly. "Two hundred and fifty kilograms each."
Nova's jaw dropped.
"…You can't be serious."
Zazm reached down, unfastened the weight on his right wrist, and without warning threw it.
Nova reacted purely on instinct. His hand shot up and caught it mid-air.
"Wh—what—" he froze, then frowned. "…Wait. This isn't that heavy."
Dennis let out a small chuckle.
"No, Sir Nova. That's not because it's light. It's because you are strong."
Nova shook his head immediately. "No way. I'm not."
Dennis shook his own head.
"Take a normal adult human. For them, lifting twenty-five kilograms would feel heavy. For a child, it would be impossible. The difference isn't the weight—it's the body."
Nova stared at the weight in his hand, then laughed quietly.
"So what you're saying is… we've just naturally become this physically strong?"
Dennis nodded.
Zazm spoke again, tone cutting cleanly through the moment.
"Enough of this."
Nova handed the weight back and rolled his shoulders.
"Alright. What I actually came to ask—what about the AMI mark you mentioned earlier?"
"I've already submitted a request," Zazm replied. "You'll be getting it soon."
Nova shook his head.
"That's not what I meant."
Zazm turned his gaze toward him. Cold. Direct.
"Then what?"
Nova tapped the side of his skull.
"Why do we need AMI marks? They're for normal humans—to awaken powers. But we already have this. So what happens? Do we get another power or something?"
Zazm shook his head.
"You won't gain anything like that."
Nova sighed. "Figures. Then why bother?"
Zazm walked over and sat down on a bench, posture relaxed but presence heavy.
"What is an AMI mark?"
Nova tilted his head. "You mean… definition? Usage?"
"What is it?" Zazm repeated.
Nova answered slowly.
"It's a tool. It lets a normal human body contain Vana. It helps circulate it throughout the body so they can awaken and use abilities."
Zazm nodded.
"So it acts like a generator."
"…I guess you could say that," Nova replied, unsure.
Zazm continued evenly.
"We already have a generator. What happens if we gain another one?"
Nova paused. Thought. Then his eyes widened slightly.
"Our Vana restoration and production speed would skyrocket."
"Yes," Zazm said. "By a very large margin."
Nova let out a low whistle.
"That's insane. It feels like cheating."
"It is," Zazm replied flatly.
"And we'd get a weapon too, right?" Nova added, turning slightly. "Something unique—tied to our powers?"
Zazm nodded.
"That's another reason."
Nova smiled faintly. "Good to hear."
"Wait."
Nova turned back. "What?"
Zazm looked at Dennis.
"Have you provided them with them?"
Dennis straightened.
"I was just about to escort Sir Nova."
"Escort me where?" Nova asked.
---
The scene shifted.
Nova stopped dead.
"What… am I looking at?"
Before him, suspended carefully within a containment frame, were five shimmering orbs. Each one constantly shifted colors—blue melting into violet, violet into gold, gold into something unnameable. They pulsed softly, like breathing stars.
Dennis spoke calmly.
"You can't use your abilities inside NullFlux Bastion, can you?"
Nova nodded.
"No remnant can."
"That's what makes this place the safest fortress humanity has," Dennis said. "These orbs act as the opposite of jammers."
Nova frowned. "Meaning?"
"They allow you to use your abilities inside."
Nova's eyes widened slightly. He stepped forward and picked one up. The orb's glow reflected in his pupils.
"So these let us bypass the suppression?"
Dennis nodded.
"I'm guessing Zazm and Minos already have one."
"Yes."
Nova smirked. "Alright. How do I use it?"
"You place it on your head," Dennis explained. "It'll merge and connect to the crystal in your skull."
Nova raised a brow.
"…That sounds reassuring."
He placed the orb against his skull.
It sank in.
Pain exploded.
Nova collapsed to one knee instantly, clutching his head as a scream tore up his throat—but he forced it down, teeth clenched so hard they scraped. His vision blurred white. His body trembled violently.
Dennis dropped beside him immediately.
"Sir Nova! What's wrong?!"
Seconds passed.
Nova slammed both hands into the floor, breathing heavily—ragged, sharp breaths tearing through his chest.
"…Dennis," he growled, sweat and saliva streaking his face, "you did not mention it'd hurt like hell."
Dennis stared, stunned.
"I—I didn't know. When Sir Zazm consumed it, he didn't even flinch."
Nova laughed weakly through clenched teeth.
"Yeah… well… it hurts like hell."
He forced himself upright—and nearly fell.
Dennis caught him.
"You should rest."
Nova steadied himself.
"I'm fine. I'll head to my room. Can you give the others theirs too?"
Dennis nodded.
"Of course."
Nova took a step—then stopped.
He turned back, a grin spreading across his face.
"…Actually. Let's go together."
Dennis blinked. "Sir—?"
Nova snapped his fingers.
The shadows beneath them twisted violently—stretching upward like liquid darkness.
"Wh—" Dennis screamed—
And both of them dropped straight into the shadow, their forms swallowed whole as the darkness snapped shut.
---
Zazm raised his hand and knocked on the door.
A calm voice from inside replied, "You may enter."
He stepped in.
The room was spacious yet restrained—no unnecessary extravagance, only clean lines, dark panels, and faint holographic interfaces hovering in a dormant state. Toreth sat behind his desk, legs crossed, fingers lightly tapping the armrest. The moment he saw Zazm, a familiar smirk curved onto his lips.
"Well, well," Toreth said lazily. "If it isn't our young Supreme Commander. What can I do for you today?"
"There's something I want to ask you," Zazm replied.
Toreth raised an eyebrow, stood up, and walked over to the couch instead. He sat down casually and gestured forward.
"Then how about you take a seat?"
Zazm sat across from him, posture straight, expression unreadable.
Toreth snapped his fingers.
"Oh, right. Would you like coffee? Or…" his grin widened slightly, "…black coffee?"
"I'd like your attention for now," Zazm said, voice serious and emotionless.
Toreth's eyes gleamed with amusement.
"You already have it. Go on."
Zazm reached into his coat and pulled out a circular device, placing it on the table between them. With a single tap, the surface lit up, projecting a detailed hologram into the air.
A massive planet appeared—its surface layered with dark continents, glowing fault lines of energy running through its crust.
Toreth leaned forward, studying it closely. His playful demeanor faded, replaced by sharp focus.
"…Isn't that Exylos?"
Zazm nodded.
"The planet inhabited by the strongest remnants. Potentially the location of the False King's castle."
Toreth straightened.
"What are you getting at?"
Zazm adjusted the hologram, zooming out. Surrounding Exylos were countless other planets, entire solar systems densely packed together, each marked with faint crimson indicators.
"Every system around it," Zazm said, "is also inhabited by remnants."
Toreth stood up and expanded the projection further.
"Yes. The entire Eventide Zone. Galaxies dominated by remnants." He glanced back at Zazm. "I'm aware of this already. Why are you showing me?"
Zazm nodded once.
"As you know, they've been taking more and more territory from our side."
Toreth exhaled slowly and sat back down.
"I know."
"Then why," Zazm continued evenly, "don't we attack their planets and take back what's ours? Why are we always on the defensive?"
Toreth smiled faintly.
"You're asking a question you already know the answer to."
Zazm didn't respond. He simply looked at him—expression flat, gaze unwavering.
Toreth sighed and began.
"It's because their defenses are stronger than ours."
He raised a hand before Zazm could interject.
"Don't misunderstand. Our defenses are powerful. But unlike them, not every planet on humanity's side is equipped with high-grade spatial cannons."
He gestured toward the hologram.
"Euphoria. Earth. Those worlds can erase thousands of battleships in a second. Most others can't. And that's exactly why they're targeted."
He continued, voice steady and measured.
"If we attacked them directly, every single one of their planets would retaliate with spatial cannons just as advanced as ours. Our fleets wouldn't last."
Toreth leaned back.
"And unlike them, we don't have centuries to throw away."
Zazm listened silently.
"Humans live, on average, eighty years," Toreth went on.
"Elves, three to four hundred. Fairies—five hundred at most. With AMI marks, add maybe two hundred more years."
His tone hardened slightly.
"An average remnant lives five hundred years. Stronger ones—Omega-class, the False King—thousands. Possibly far more than we can even estimate."
Zazm opened his mouth to speak.
Toreth raised a finger.
"Let me finish."
He adjusted the hologram again, zooming out beyond Exylos, highlighting glowing distortions scattered across the galaxy.
"They also possess multiple wormholes. They use them to traverse the universe freely. We don't know why—but we can't use them. Only remnants can."
He paused.
"And their closest territory is over fifty billion light-years away. Even at faster-than-light speeds, it would take far too long."
Zazm finally spoke.
"Then how do we maintain contact with human civilizations that are just as far?"
Toreth's smirk returned.
"What do you think the population of 'humanity' is?"
Zazm looked up, expression unchanged.
"Three point six octillion," Toreth answered.
Zazm showed no reaction.
"That," Toreth continued, "is only the population we know."
"What do you mean?" Zazm asked.
"All human-inhabited planets and spatial islands within a radius of one billion light-years are connected," Toreth explained.
"Teleportation paths. Wormhole-like structures that allow instant travel from one end of that radius to the other."
Zazm narrowed his eyes slightly.
"How?"
"And before you ask why remnants can't use them, or how we placed them," Toreth said, standing up, "let me explain something first."
He turned.
"Have you heard of the Kardashev scale?"
"Yes," Zazm replied.
Toreth clasped his hands behind his back.
"It's an ancient concept. Not important. What matters is its classifications."
Zazm nodded again.
"As of now," Toreth said, "humanity stands at the threshold of Type Four."
Zazm frowned slightly.
"…What?"
"You've only seen Euphoria," Toreth said as he walked back.
"It preserves tradition. But most advanced worlds don't."
He gestured outward.
"Within this one-billion-light-year radius, everything is under our control. Planets. Space. Spatial bodies. We can teleport to any of them instantly."
He paused.
"And we're expanding—placing teleportation anchors beyond that radius. Slowly."
"But," he added sharply, "no one can attack us inside it."
Zazm spoke.
"Then the attacks—"
"—were outside it," Toreth finished with a smirk.
"If they weren't, the remnants would've been wiped out before they even realized what happened."
His eyes glinted.
"Remember Uroun? You teleported everyone instantly. That's why we won so easily."
He leaned forward, green eyes glowing faintly.
"Inside this radius, we control everything. Space. Stars. Physics itself."
Toreth leaned back.
"NullFlux Bastion is advanced, correct?"
Zazm nodded.
"Now that you're properly part of the system," Toreth said, standing up, "let me show you something."
The world warped.
In an instant, they vanished—and reappeared atop the massive rings encircling NullFlux Bastion.
Zazm looked at him.
"Teleportation?"
Toreth smirked.
"Exactly."
Suddenly, Toreth lifted off the surface, floating effortlessly.
"Don't misunderstand technology, Zazm," he said. "It's far stronger than powers."
"I see," Zazm replied flatly.
"Try breaking this ring," Toreth said casually.
Zazm glanced down.
"I can break it easily."
Toreth's grin widened.
"Go on."
Zazm clenched his fist and struck.
The impact sent shockwaves rippling through the air. The several-meter-thick ring shattered, a massive hole torn open as debris vaporized instantly.
Toreth watched calmly.
The hole began closing.
Matter flowed back into place, reconstructing itself perfectly. Within seconds, the ring was whole again.
Zazm's eyes widened—just slightly.
"…What?"
Toreth smiled.
"Welcome to the most advanced universe in the multiverse."
He spread his arms.
"A place where we create matter ourselves. Where physical laws are just boundaries we've already crossed."
He looked at Zazm.
"Welcome to a civilization so advanced… it feels like magic."
_____________________