David gazed out at the Galactic Empire's capital from the viewport. Thousands of ships streamed in and out of the orbital port in a dazzling, choreographed dance of light and metal. The planet below glowed with the concentrated civilization of a core world.
As the Trippy descended, a port authority directive chimed. "S-Grade vessel, proceed to docking Section A."
The ship smoothly changed vectors. Liam and Emma exchanged a surprised glance. They had assumed it was an A-Grade ship due to the leisurely travel pace. They didn't realize David had ordered a slow approach to absorb the unfamiliar sights; for him, who had never left his home planet, every star and nebula was a novelty.
The Trippy settled onto its designated pad in the exclusive, sparsely populated Section A. Only three other vessels were present, all bearing the severe lines of military fighter groups. Not wanting to leave his ship exposed, David recalled it into his space ring with a thought after disembarking.
He turned to his companions. "You can head home now. If you could just point me toward the Human Association building—"
Liam shook his head. "Our families already know we're here. They'll send transport. Let us come with you to register. It'll streamline the process."
Before David could reply, a small convoy of sleek, armored vehicles glided to a halt before them. A man and a woman emerged, flanked by discreet but alert bodyguards.
Emma immediately ran to the man. "Brother! You have no idea—if David hadn't saved us today, we wouldn't be here!"
The man, Chris, sighed deeply, relief and exasperation warring on his face. "You two never give me a moment's peace. The entire family is holding me responsible for your 'carelessness.' Do you realize our parents are on the front lines? What would I have told them?" He turned to Liam. "And you! Your sister entrusted you to me. If something happened, how could I face her? Your parents are also at war. Is this a game to you?"
David observed Chris. His anger was born from genuine fear and responsibility. The woman beside Chris placed a calming hand on his arm.
"Chris, they're safe. That's what matters. This was a harsh lesson, but it will serve them well," she said, her voice gentle but firm.
Chris took a breath, mastering his emotions. "This is the last time. From now on, you both train until you comprehend a law and earn your place as official students of the Human Association. No more adventures."
He then seemed to remember their savior. His demeanor shifted into one of formal gratitude as he faced David. "Hello. I am Chris Myers. This is my wife, Riya. Thank you, from the bottom of our hearts, for saving these two. I cannot imagine how we would have faced their parents otherwise."
David sensed Chris's strength—a 5th-Level Domain Realm warrior—and the sincere worry behind his words. "I'm David. It was the right thing to do. Anyone would have helped."
Chris felt an instinctive pressure from David, a subtle aura that spoke of power far surpassing his own. This was no ordinary youth. A hidden genius from some ancient family? he wondered.
"Your modesty is appreciated, but the debt is real. If you require any assistance within the Empire, our house is at your service."
Liam, still looking chastened, spoke up. "Brother Chris, David needs to go to the Human Association to establish his citizenship. Could I take one of the cars? I'll accompany him and then bring him back to the estate for dinner, if he's willing."
Chris's eyebrows rose slightly. No citizenship? That confirmed his suspicion. Only the most secretive lineages hid their scions from the public records to protect them. He nodded. "Of course. Take the lead car. I'll have our butler, Gerth, accompany you. He can expedite the procedures." He gave a brief, meaningful glance to an elderly, sharp-eyed man among the retainers.
During the ride, Liam shared more about the Galactic Empire. Its governor was a powerful Immortal King. Both Liam's and Emma's families had Immortals among them, serving as generals. This was a core universe, a launching point for the endless war against a thousand other races. Millions sought fortune and breakthrough on the battlefields daily.
"People say cosmic warfare itself generates opportunities—the universe balancing the scales by rewarding the lucky," Liam explained.
David listened, but privately doubted it was so random. More likely, there are ancient mechanisms or inheritances with specific triggers that people stumble upon, he mused. He wished he could ask Albert, but the artifact spirit was deep in recuperative sleep.
The car stopped before a monumental skyscraper, the local headquarters of the Human Association. David felt a thread of nervousness. This was a point of no return—entering the system. He steeled himself, resolving to bury his past identity as deeply as possible.
Inside, due to the butler Gerth's influence, they were ushered directly to a private suite. The formalities were swift until the final step: bloodline identification.
David pricked his finger. A single drop of blood fell onto the analysis disc.
For a moment, nothing happened. Then, a terrifying, primordial pressure erupted, flooding the room. The air grew thick and heavy. The advanced machinery hummed in protest. Liam staggered back a step. Even Gerth, the Immortal Realm butler, felt a primal chill of danger—a sensation he'd only experienced in the presence of a Universe Master's direct progeny, and this felt deeper, more profound.
Gerth's eyes snapped to David, seeing not a young man, but a well of ancient, terrifying potential. What have these children befriended?
The pressure vanished as suddenly as it appeared. The machine finished its scan with a quiet chime.
In that moment, Gerth saw something else—a flicker of absolute, icy killing intent in David's eyes as they swept over the stunned staff. It was a warning, clear as day: Silence.
The old butler moved with practiced efficiency. He stepped toward the white-faced technicians, his voice low but carrying unshakable authority. "You felt a machine anomaly. A minor energy feedback loop from the port shields, perhaps. You will record the subject's data as 'High-Grade Genetic Potential, Specifics Unclear due to Interference.' Nothing more. To speak of anything else would be... inadvisable for your careers, and your health."
He spoke from experience. The Human Association was a bureaucracy, and bureaucracies could be made to forget. Powerful beings valued their privacy.
David, his expression once again calm and neutral, watched as the butler handled the situation. A new identity card was produced, gleaming with a subtle gold trim denoting high genetic merit. The official record would be bland, but Gerth—and undoubtedly his masters—now knew a sliver of the truth.
David pocketed the card, the weight of it feeling heavier than it was. He was in the system now, but the most critical secret remained, for the moment, his own. The look in Gerth's eyes, however, told him the path ahead would be watched by more curious and powerful eyes than he had anticipated.