JVMenjivar

Astashica: Eternal Starborn Dominion

"Listen well, child of the twin suns. The land speaks, the winds whisper, and the rivers carry old songs. But there is one voice that does not sing, one truth that sleeps beneath your feet. The world you stand upon is not what you believe it to be."

The Xothek Galaxy is gone, consumed by its own hunger for power. The Asemeri once shaped the stars, bending light and void to their will. Their greatest creation, the Formicrons, built empires that stood for millennia.  

But Xothek fell—not to time, nor to gods, but to its own arrogance.  

The Azurevat fire erased them. Cities vanished. Kingdoms dissolved into the abyss. And the last Asemeri fled aboard the Defiance Vanguard, a warship of lost power, its runes still pulsing with ancient knowledge. They sought refuge. They found Astashica.  

A world of twin suns. A world veiled in Light. A world that does not belong to them.  

For three hundred cycles, the Asemeri ruled. They carved their names into the mountains, built their towers over rivers, but Astashica is awake. It watches. It remembers.  

Now, the shadow returns.  

Cosmus has returned. The exile. The usurper. The last remnant of a dead empire. His fleet blackens the sky. His armies rise from the abyss. And in his grasp? The final Azurevat missile—the fire that once shattered the heavens.  

And in the path of destruction, one man stands.  

Tlandar. Son of two worlds. A man of soil and harvest. A man who should have lived his days in peace.  

But war does not ask who you wish to be. It demands who you must become.  

Flee, and the twin suns will set forever.  
Stand, and awaken the Light once more.  

He takes the blade. He spills the blood. He walks the path of no return.  

The Defiance Vanguard looms overhead.  
The Azurevat fire waits in silence.  
The Formicrons stir beneath the sands.  
The ancient Asemeri cores pulse in the dark.  

But beneath it all—beneath the ruins, beneath the rivers, beneath the very bones of this world—there is something older than the Asemeri.  

Something forgotten.  
Something that was never meant to wake.  

This is not a war for land. This is not a war for power.  

This is a war for the right to exist.  

And so I ask, child of the twin suns—will you fight for the Light, or will you let the darkness take it?"

ASTASHICA: Eternal Starborn Dominion

The Gathering of Leaders

Inside Val'katl's command hall, beneath the reinforced canopy of war banners and illuminated strategy tables, warriors, commanders, and allies sat together in preparation for battle.

Tlandar and his Salgaran pilots, fresh from their descent, now stood face to face with Val'katl's generals—hardened warriors who had fought in the trenches of the Plains of Leipira for five long years. Akashma stood beside them, her dark red cloak resting over her battle plate and chain armor, the custom of her people.

Among the gathered, one of the Eight of Boulderkeep sat forward, the very warrior who had faced Tlandar in the Valiant Contest. Though they had fought fiercely in the past, respect had replaced rivalry.

Seated in a semicircle upon reinforced couches, refreshments of fortified rations and heated herbal drinks were laid out before them. Though none indulged too much—war still loomed close—this moment was an opportunity to strengthen bonds.

Names were exchanged, past battles recalled, alliances affirmed.

Val'katl sat at the center, arms crossed, his presence a weight in the room. He listened as each warrior spoke of why they had come, of what had led them to this war, of their commitment to defending Astashica.

Val'katl's Five-Year Struggle

"I have stood on these plains for five years. I have seen trenches built, warriors buried, rivers of blood flow beneath the marshes." His voice was deep, steady, filled with the weight of war.

He leaned forward, his gaze sweeping across the gathered warriors. "I have held these lines against Ixtiel with everything I had. My warriors have suffered. We have bled. We have watched New Asemeri build its walls and close its gates while we fought and died."

"And yet, now Salgar stands beside me. Now, you stand beside me."

"For that, I thank you," he said. "I thank Chieftain Salgar for sending her warriors. I thank you, Tlandar, for accepting this burden. And I thank Akashma for guiding you to this moment."

A brief silence passed, a warrior's moment of acknowledgment.

Then, Val'katl exhaled. "Know this: My warriors and I will not forget your loyalty. What we fight for today, we fight for together."

A Debt and a Promise

Val'katl turned back to Tlandar, his expression darkening slightly.

"I heard of Verdantis Nexus." His voice was lower now.

Tlandar stiffened, but remained composed.

"I heard how it fell," Val'katl continued. "How Ixtiel's marauders took everything."

He shook his head. "No one deserved that. Not you. Not your people."

Tlandar said nothing at first, but his fist clenched slightly.

Val'katl watched him, then nodded firmly.

"When this war ends—when we drive Ixtiel out, together—I will not forget." He leaned forward. "To you and your warriors, I offer 500 million Kuprix. And anything else you require."

Even among seasoned warriors, such a reward was staggering.

Val'katl continued, "Not just because you fight beside me. But because you should never have had to lose your home to begin with."

The moment passed, and Val'katl's battle-hardened demeanor returned.

"We have honored each other. Now, it is time to plan our victory."

He stood, gesturing to the holographic strategy table nearby. As the warriors rose, some murmured to each other—they had seen movement in Ixtiel's lines.

Something unusual.

Tlandar and Akashma exchanged glances.

It was time to see for themselves.

Warriors United in Purpose