"As of reading you are likely to be unaware of this word: Epifin, which is defined as the hollow calm that follows a final realisation; the strange emptiness that comes when your mind reaches the end of a long chain of thought, when there's nothing left to figure out, and the questions that once kept you alive fall silent. Remember this word and continue the journey."
That station, a place where he regained consciousness, learned life skills and built new friendships, was now just a memory; a part of the past he was rapidly leaving behind.
He sat in the third seat to the right of the cockpit, the designated comms station, though his attention was fixed on the star-dusted panorama unfolding through the expansive glass floor. Below his feet, nebulae bloomed like celestial flowers. At the helm, Kallus Eldrath navigated with the serene confidence of a man who had charted these currents for a lifetime. His long, silver-streaked hair was tied back, his focus absolute. Beside him, Artemis sat as co-pilot, her fingers gliding across the control panels with an easy grace that belied her ability. Her gaze flickered between the navigational arrays and the silent figure of the Voidwalker.
"Our destination, Celestara," Kallus started, his voice a calm anchor in the vastness. "The heart of the Imperium. It is where you will learn the most, and where your path will truly begin."
Celestara. That name echoed with a weight the Voidwalker couldn't quite grasp. It was connected to everything—the Dynasties, the Nex, and the man who had pulled him from obscurity. The man who spoke in his mind, whose presence was a constant, thrumming undercurrent in his consciousness.
"The God Emperor," the Voidwalker said, the words feeling strange on his tongue. "I'm still unsure about him. He's… in my mind, a voice, a power… but who is he, really?"
The question hung in the quiet hum of the cockpit. Kallus's steady hands did not waver from the controls, but his eyes softened with the weight of memory. It was Artemis who answered first.
"He is the axis upon which our universe turns," she said, her voice filled with a passionate reverence. "To some, he is a saviour. To others, a tyrant. To the Eldrath, he is the ultimate scholar of the Nex, the one who saw its true potential."
Kallus took over, his tone more measured, like a historian recounting a foundational myth. "He was once a man, forged in the crucible of the Nexium Wars. The conflict with the Dissident Allegiance nearly shattered us. Worlds burned, dynasties at the brink of collapse. The Emperor… he was more than our leader; he was our resolution. He ended it."
"How?" the Voidwalker pressed, leaning forward.
"Through power we can barely comprehend," Kallus explained, his mind cast back to the unsettled memory. "All Nexomancers draw upon the Nexium, the foundational energy of the universe. For us, it manifests as a vibrant, light-blue energy.. prime energy. But when it bonded with him, it became something… different. It burned crimson with the core of reality."
Artemis picked up the line, her eyes alight with intellectual fire. "We call it 1st Form Nexomancy. It's a form of magic only he can wield. It isn't just about manipulating energy; it's the power to command reality itself. He doesn't just bend the laws of physics oh no he practically rewrites them. He can intertwine fate, he can unmake a star, or will a fleet into dust with a thought."
The Voidwalker tried to picture it—a single being with such dominion. He recalled the Emperor's appearance on the Nexus: the majestic figure, the intricate robotic arm enhancements that occasionally flickered, glitching as if reality itself struggled to contain the power coursing through him.
"That power," Kallus said grimly, "left its scars. Not just on the universe, but on him. To be the sole master of reality is to be perpetually at odds with it. He is a constant, a living paradox. A god bound in mortal flesh and Imperial steel."
Their words painted a picture of a being beyond comprehension—a myth made manifest, a living legend whose very existence defied the natural order. It was an opinion coloured by the Eldrath's reverence for knowledge and power, leaving the Voidwalker to wonder what the other Great Dynasties thought of their God Emperor. Was he truly a benevolent protector, or was he a force so monumental that none dared to question him?
The deep hum of the ship's engines began to change pitch. "We are at the correct coordinates," Kallus announced, his focus returning entirely to the ship. "Prepare for Shatter Jump."
The Voidwalker opened his mouth to ask what that meant, but Artemis anticipated him, turning in her co-pilot's seat.
"Think of spacetime as a solid sheet of crystal," she began, a familiar teacher's tone in her voice, yet infused with a cosmic metaphor. "We travel across its surface. But the Imperium's engineers, through brilliant marvels of Nexium-infusion, found a way to do more. A Shatterdrive doesn't sail on the crystal; it strikes it, creating a million fractures, a million potential pathways through matter itself. We basically travel through space and jump between the cracks in it."
Kallus's fingers moved with precision, activating a series of commands. Shields flared to life around the Prospect, their energy a visible, shimmering cocoon. The lights in the cockpit dimmed, replaced by the emergency glow of red and amber panels.
"It can be… disorienting for the uninitiated," Kallus advised, his eyes on the swirling void ahead. "The safety precautions are simple. Brace yourself, stay in your seat, and try not to focus on any single point outside. The universe won't look like itself for a moment."
The Voidwalker gripped the arms of his chair, his knuckles turning white. Artemis gave him a reassuring nod.
"Hold on," Kallus commanded.
Then, he engaged the drive.
The universe didn't tear or burst; it shattered. The view outside the cockpit became an impossible maelstrom. It was not the black of space but a chaotic, swirling dimension of pure, violent colour. Jagged shards of emerald and sapphire light ripped through seas of liquid amethyst. Formless, monstrous shapes writhed in the periphery, born and unmade in the same instant. It was as if they were flying through the raw, untamed canvas of creation itself, a place where logic had no purchase and reality was a suggestion, not a law. The Prospect shuddered, a bone-deep vibration that seemed to press on his very soul. It was terrifying, and in its abnormality, utterly beautiful.
And then, as suddenly as it began, it was over.
The chaotic torrent vanished, replaced by an abrupt, profound stillness. The ship hung motionless in the familiar black of space. Before them, suspended against a backdrop of distant galaxies, was a world that stole the breath from his lungs.
Celestara.
A world sculpted by a divine hand. The Prospect weaved its way past piercing monoliths, impossibly tall, that rose to the upper atmosphere, their peaks wreathed in clouds of gold and silver. Vast, turquoise oceans lapped against coastlines of verdant grasslands that stretched for thousands of miles. Mountains that dwarfed any on Cyreth stood like silent, armoured sentinels, their slopes etched with structures that seemed to grow from the rock itself. And the city below next to the water, circular and deep with human touch; it was a perfect, breathtaking fusion of nature and technology on a scale he could never have imagined.
Kallus moved to the comms station the Voidwalker had just vacated. He keyed in a sequence, opening a channel to the planet below. "This is the Eldrath vessel Prospect, hailing Celestara command. Requesting permission to land. Keeper Kallus Eldrath on board, with an expected guest of the God Emperor."
A moment of static, then a voice replied. It was deep, resonant, and carried an unmistakable authority, like forged steel warmed by a hearth. "Prospect, this is Serath Valorian of the Citadel Guard. Your signal is clear." A pause, then a warmer, more personal tone bled through. "Kallus, my friend. The sky has been too quiet without you. Permission granted. Transmitting landing coordinates for the Valorian Spire now. Welcome home."
A rare, genuine smile touched Kallus's lips, chasing the perpetual scholar's focus from his eyes. A quiet joy filled his voice as he replied, "It is good to hear your voice, Serath. We are on our way."
The Prospect banked gently, beginning its graceful descent towards the legendary city. The Voidwalker watched, mesmerised, as the future rushed up to meet them, a world of gods and legends, where reality was a tool and the sky was no longer the limit. His journey was just beginning.