Prologue - Creator

Earth was dead. Deep beneath the vast dunes, a crystal pulsed with energy, powering the last remnants of human consciousness—a virtual world housed in a colossal server. Here, the souls of those who once walked the Earth persisted, their bodies gone but their minds preserved.

Alex, one of the project's creators, lay in bed, lost in a fitful sleep. His dreams carried him back to when the world was still clinging to life, and he still believed in a future with Marion.

"Alex," Marion's voice was urgent, pleading. "We need to have a baby. If we do, we'll get more resources. You have to let go of your research."

Marion was from one of the powerful families that still had influence, even as the world crumbled. Alex could hear the desperation in her voice, but his heart was hardened by frustration. "Resources for what, Marion? To eat, to sleep? To scrape by for a little longer? We agreed we wouldn't participate in the Space Z contest."

His eyes, usually so full of warmth, were now filled with determination. "I'm thinking about our future, The future of the Digital Life Project. I'm developing—A server strong enough to survive anything. We can't afford to wait, the people in charge will leave us here to die."

"Do you really think Space Z is just some corporate competition like Space V?" Marion's voice was tight with anger. "It's the only way out of here; they'll only save those they deem worthy."

Marion's resolve was unshakable. "That's why I want in, with or without you. My cousin at headquarters told me—they're prioritizing fertile women and their children. I have to take this chance."

With that, she turned and left his lab, leaving Alex standing alone, the weight of her words pressing down on him. "She's becoming just like everyone else," he whispered, though deep down, he knew it was fear driving her—fear of a future that seemed more uncertain with each passing day.

After the Fourth World War, everything changed. Humanity's days were numbered; the lifespan had dwindled to just 30 years. The planet was scorched, and barren, and the victors of the war had enacted ruthless measures—culling the weak, the elderly, and even newborns who didn't meet the harsh criteria for survival.

A century later, only a single government remained—the Union—ruling over a dying Earth where the temperatures had become unbearable. Mars was a dream sold to the masses, but Alex knew the truth—it was all a façade.

Marion had been his everything. They'd grown up together, attended college, and at fifteen they married.

"Alex, wake up. You're going to be late for work," Marion's voice pulled him from the dream, gentle and familiar.

For a moment, he was disoriented, staring at her as if trying to place where he was. Then the reality sank in, and a bitter sadness washed over him. "You're not real," he said softly, his voice thick with sorrow. "You're the biggest lie of my life."

Marion, or the program that looked like her, smiled sweetly, not understanding his words. "Come down for breakfast, then."

As she left, Alex let out a heavy sigh. The real Marion was gone, had been for a long time. She had left him, found someone else, and joined the Space Z project. They had escaped the Earth before doomsday, leaving him behind in a world that was falling apart.

"At least she's happy," Alex whispered to himself, though the words felt hollow. Alone in the artificial world, he had helped create,

..............

In the cold expanse of dead space, a colossal ship drifted in silence—a black void against the starless backdrop, devoid of markings or names. This was Darkstar, Santon's solitary refuge.

Santon, his curly hair disheveled, toiled in the ship's dimly lit lab. His eyes, red-rimmed from countless sleepless nights, gleamed with an intense focus as he worked on the flesh of a star beast. With meticulous care, trying to sculpt something more human.

The air in the lab seemed to thicken, and suddenly, a figure materialized—cloaked in black, masked, and carrying the unmistakable scent of blood. Santon didn't even flinch. "Elder brother," he said quietly, though his heart beat faster.

"How much time do you need?" his brother asked, his voice hollow, as if coming from some far-off place.

"Seven Galactica days," Santon replied, but unease crept in—his brother's urgency, his uncharacteristic coldness. It gnawed at him.

"What's happened?" Santon asked, his voice laced with concern, but the silence that followed was heavy and oppressive.

Without another word, the elder brother vanished, leaving Santon with his question. He asked Gloria, his AI assistant, who flickered into existence—a shimmering, almost ethereal presence in the dim lab. "Gloria, report," he said, trying to steady his voice.

"The Federation has a new leader," Gloria stated, her tone as neutral as always, though to Santon, it sounded almost ominous.

"Who?" Santon's heart skipped a beat, a cold dread creeping into his chest.

"Your elder brother," Gloria revealed.

Santon's mind reeled. How had his brother risen to power so suddenly? And then it struck him—the smell of blood, the way his brother had looked at him, almost empty inside.

"They're all dead, aren't they?" Santon asked, though he already knew the answer.

"Yes," Gloria confirmed. "Even your father."

Santon's breath caught in his throat. He had always been distant from his family, wrapped up in his work, but this... This was different. The weight of it pressed down on him, and for the first time in years, he felt truly alone.

He tried to push the thoughts aside, focusing on the task at hand. With Gloria's help, he continued to work on the body, meticulously crafting it from the sacred S-grade star beast's flesh. These creatures, ancient and powerful, roamed the dead zones of space, consuming lifeless planets to create new ones. Their regenerative abilities were nothing short of miraculous.

As Santon stitched together the final sinew, his hands trembled—not from fear, but from the overwhelming responsibility of what he was creating. The hybrid body lay before him, its skin glowing faintly as the star beast's essence flowed through it.

"Is it ready?" Gloria asked, her voice as steady as ever, though Santon imagined he heard a note of curiosity there.

Santon nodded, though uncertainty gnawed at him. "As ready as it can be," he murmured. He wondered if this creation would be more than just a body—if it would truly live.

He activated the neural interface, linking the hybrid body to the ship's systems. The lab hummed with energy as the data flowed, yet the body remained still, lifeless. It was a shell, waiting for something more.

...

Santon stood at the edge of a precipice, his creation before him, pulsating with the star beast's essence. But it was missing something crucial—the spark that would make it more than just flesh and bone. It needed a soul. He could create it like a robot, but he didn't want that—he wanted it to be real.

Desperate to bring his creation to life before his brother, he searched endlessly, scanning for wandering souls. On Earth, he discovered the Digital Life Project—a last-ditch effort to preserve human consciousness within a digital world.

He landed on Earth, surrounded by countless souls, and felt a surge of joy. With careful precision, Santon extracted one and, without hesitation, transferred it into the neural matrix of his creation.

His elder brother, a figure of both brilliance and terror, coveted the vessel for his dark purposes. The elder brother has many secrets, capable of teleporting across galaxies with a mere thought..

But just before the soul fusion could complete, the elder brother materialized in the lab—a shadow among the flickering lights. "Santon," he hissed, eyes burning with an unquenchable hunger. "This body belongs to me."

Santon's resolve solidified. He mobilized his robots, the lab trembling as the two brothers squared off—one fighting for control, the other for survival.

In the heart of Darkstar, the battle began. The universe seemed to hold its breath.

The elder brother's abilities were beyond mortal comprehension. Santon knew his robot army, no matter how advanced, was no match for this living god.

But Santon's rage burned hotter than a dying star. "You killed our father," he spat, his fists trembling with barely contained fury.

"It was for the greater good," his brother replied, his voice cold, devoid of any emotion.

"What greater good could justify sacrificing your own blood?" Santon's voice shook, not just with anger but with desperation. He knew that if he surrendered the hybrid body to his brother, chaos would ripple across the cosmos, leading to destruction on an unimaginable scale.

His mind raced. He couldn't overpower his brother, but perhaps he could outmaneuver him. He needed a distraction—an adversary that could buy him time.

"Gloria," Santon commanded, "execute the plan A." The AI's circuits hummed, and she set the plan in motion. Everything in the lab teleported.

But the elder brother tracked down Santon, a storm of psychic energy crashing into Santon. His defenses shattered like glass. Stars exploded behind his eyes, pain shooting through every nerve. "You teleported that body out of my reach—I'll kill you!" 

Then, through the haze, santon began to laugh fanatically, Clinging to consciousness, Santon whispered, "One day, you will meet your end."

The universe seemed to pause, caught between vengeance and redemption.

The hybrid body—Alex's Soul encased in star beast's flesh—faded from the Darkstar lab, disappearing into the vast unknown. It rematerialized on the distant, uncharted planet, surrounded by unfamiliar landscapes.

On a distant planet, Alex's eyes fluttered open, and the world greeted him with a palette of colors he'd never seen before. The sky stretched infinitely above him, painted in iridescent blues that shifted and changed with every blink. Beneath him, grass moved like the currents of a cosmic sea.

As he struggled to his feet, his legs unsteady beneath him, Alex's mind reeled, trying to process the impossible. A question formed on his lips, the only one that made sense in the chaos of his thoughts: "What the fuck just happened?"