The Emperor and the Hidden Truth

Tyrin felt the tension spread through his muscles, every fiber of his body alert to the invisible danger unfolding before him. The situation was slipping from his control, flowing like sand through his fingers, and yet he knew he had to maintain his composure. This was not the time for hesitation.

— Lord Orion… — His voice carried a strange weight, an uncertainty he couldn't disguise. — I can speak. How can I help you?

Orion smiled, but it wasn't an ordinary smile. There was something predatory in the curve of his lips, something that made Tyrin wonder if he truly wanted to know the answer.

— Wonderful. If everyone in the Empire were as… proactive as you, I wouldn't have to dirty my hands so often. — Orion paused, as if carefully choosing his words, then shook his head. — Anyway…

He approached the table in the center of the room, his footsteps nearly silent on the floor. His fingers glided over the cold wood before he gestured to the chair on the other side.

— Sit down. I need to tell you a story.

Tyrin obeyed, though the unease within him grew. Before he could fully settle, Gertrudes pulled up another chair and sat beside him. Her eyes locked onto Orion's with a sharp gleam.

— Orion… You know some things should never be spoken. Nor heard. — Her voice was a whisper laced with suspicion. — What is your true intention?

Orion let out a short sigh, almost amused.

— Always so distrustful, your family… Always seeing conspiracies and betrayals where none exist. — He gestured dismissively, but his expression soon turned more serious. — But I admit, this time, your suspicion is warranted.

— You know your track record doesn't help you much… — Gertrudes narrowed her eyes.

— Perhaps. But that hardly matters now. What truly matters is that we are dying. Our society is on the brink of collapse, and we need answers. I never wanted deaths… least of all my own men.

A heavy silence settled over the room. Tyrin and Gertrudes exchanged glances, weighing whether they should stay, whether they should hear what Orion had to say. But they were in too deep to turn back. They knew it.

— Alright, — Tyrin broke the silence. — We're listening.

Orion nodded and extended a small metallic device toward him. A cold cube, with a discreet button on its side.

— I need you to run the simulation again. This time… go all the way.

The memory of what had happened last time made the hairs on the back of Tyrin's neck stand on end. But he pressed the button.

The world around him changed instantly.

The simulation was the same. The same commands. The same mistakes.

"Sir, we're losing all our ships. What should we do?"

"Fire at quadrant 34-B23."

"Sir, there's nothing there. We'll reveal our position."

"Just do it. That's an order."

"Yes, sir… Preparing weapons… Aiming at 34-B23… Fire."

This time, something different happened.

Tyrin watched as the ammunition traveled through the void, heading for a point that should have been empty. But the space did not remain empty.

As if an invisible veil had been torn apart, something appeared. Something colossal. Ancient. Incomprehensible. A massive structure, like a city floating in the void, revealed itself before him.

The air grew heavy, and his chest tightened, as if he were being crushed by the very concept of what he was seeing. And then… it began.

The colossus opened fire. But not at them.

In a silent, absolute frenzy, its weapons swept across space, reducing the enemy fleet to wreckage within minutes. Without hesitation. Without mercy. Yet, for some unknown reason, none of the allied ships were touched.

And as suddenly as it had appeared, the titan vanished. As if it had never existed.

Gertrudes broke the silence, her voice unsteady.

— This... this doesn't make sense. Why did we hide this? What the hell was that?

Orion didn't answer immediately. His gaze drifted for a moment before he finally murmured:

— We don't know much. But the Emperor himself told us that he entered that ship. And that he spoke, for hours, with the... beings inside.

Gertrudes frowned, doubt clear in her eyes.

— How is that possible? In the middle of battle? He just... disappeared?

Orion took a deep breath before answering, his voice lower, almost hesitant.

— What we managed to understand... is that these things... these beings... seemed capable of stopping time.

Gertrudes turned her gaze to Tyrin, waiting for his reaction.

— Tyrin... what do you think could have happened?

Silence.

— Tyrin...?

Something was wrong.

Tyrin's eyes were fixed on nothing, his body rigid as if an invisible force had imprisoned him. His muscles didn't respond. The air around him felt heavy, suffocating.

Then, his vision darkened.

The world disappeared.

The distant voices became faint, unreal.

He heard Gertrudes calling him. Calling his name. More than once.

But... he couldn't respond.

Before he could grasp what was happening, the darkness swallowed him completely.

And then...

He woke up somewhere else.

The silence was absolute. The air was dense, different from anything he had ever felt before.

— Where the hell am I...? — he murmured, trying to remember what had happened. He had fired. The shot had hit the target. And then... everything went white.

A voice echoed from somewhere far away.

— I thought it would take millennia before someone appeared here again...

Tyrin turned, his heart pounding.

A silhouette was approaching. Running toward him. The contours were familiar, yet impossible.

His eyes narrowed, trying to recognize the face. But when the figure came close enough, he saw.

And he knew that face.

Because it was everywhere.

The darkness around him seemed to expand and contract in sync with his quickened breathing. The air was thick, laden with an oppressive sensation he couldn't explain. Before him, the man everyone knew as the Emperor stood motionless, his rigid silhouette outlined against the void.

Tyrin frowned.

— Emperor? What are you doing here? Or rather... what are we doing here? And... where exactly is here?

The man turned slowly, his sharp eyes scanning Tyrin from head to toe. Then, he let out a heavy sigh, as if something weighed deeply on him.

— I see that you are human, just like me. — He paused, narrowing his eyes. — How are things out there? Did we win the war?

The question caught Tyrin off guard.

— War? What war?

The Emperor took a step forward, his expression hardening, growing impatient.

— The fight to protect my planet! Don't play dumb, you came from there. — He tilted his head slightly. — What happened? Did I save my people?

Tyrin hesitated. Something about this was very, very wrong.

— If you're talking about the war in Alpha Centauri... yes, we won.

The tension in the Emperor's face faded for a brief moment. He closed his eyes and smiled slightly, but there was something broken in that smile, as if he were on the verge of a terrible realization.

— Wonderful... great... so my sacrifice wasn't in vain...

Sacrifice. The word echoed in Tyrin's mind, leaving behind an unsettling sensation. He shook his head, confused.

— Sacrifice? I'm sorry, but… you didn't sacrifice yourself. You won that war. You're still alive today, thanks to genetic engineering.

The Emperor's eyes widened. His entire body went rigid.

— I'm alive? — he repeated, as if trying to digest the information. — Wait… I didn't die? Then… where the hell am I—

He stopped abruptly. His eyes locked onto something unseen, as if a dark revelation had just struck him with overwhelming force. The shock on his face was devastating. He staggered back a step, his breathing quickening.

Then, without warning, he ran.

— Hey! — Tyrin shouted, but the Emperor didn't respond.

He vanished into the darkness, and with no other choice, Tyrin ran after him. He sprinted with all his strength, each step echoing in the shapeless void. The ground beneath him felt unstable, as if he were treading on a surface that shouldn't exist. The space around him shifted, compressing and expanding, as though it were made of something alive.

After what felt like endless turns, something changed.

The darkness began to recede.

A light appeared ahead, growing brighter with every step. Tyrin forced his legs to move faster, feeling desperation pounding in his chest.

Until, finally, he emerged from the shadows.

And froze.

— What the fuck is this? — he murmured.

Before him stretched a colossal city. Not just any city—but something that defied his very comprehension. Towering buildings rose as far as the eye could see, disappearing into the clouds. Impossible structures, made of materials that gleamed in metallic and spectral hues, floated above the streets. The sky was an endless expanse, but something about it… something was wrong.

The Emperor was there. Standing ahead, staring upward.

— Lord Emperor! — Tyrin called out, struggling to catch his breath. — What the hell is happening? Where is this place?

The man didn't answer immediately. He just kept looking at the sky, his eyes reflecting something Tyrin couldn't see. When he finally spoke, his voice was laden with unimaginable weight.

— You know… — he murmured — I wanted to protect my homeland. I believed that no matter the cost, I would do whatever it took. — A humorless chuckle escaped his throat. — How did I let this happen?

Tyrin watched in disbelief as tears rolled down the Emperor's face.

The scene was surreal.

This was the most powerful man in the universe. A ruthless leader. A conqueror who had shaped entire civilizations with his decisions. And yet, standing there before him… he wept.

And suddenly, everything felt even more wrong.

— Lord Emperor… I'm completely lost here. — Tyrin swallowed hard. — Can you please explain what the hell is going on?

The man ran a hand over his face, as if trying to pull himself together. Then, he turned to face Tyrin directly.

— That day, — he began, his voice dark with something unreadable — I knew I was going to lose the war. I knew I was going to die. And still, I didn't hesitate for even a second.

He paused.

Then, he said it.

— Even knowing I would take billions with me… I still did what I did.

Tyrin's breath caught in his throat.

A chill ran down his spine.

— I'm going to tell you what really happened.