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

Inside Ixtiel's War Council

The war drums of Ixtiel's encampment pounded in rhythmic precision, resonating through the Plains of Leipira like a steady pulse of impending battle. The air was thick with the scent of burning fuel, damp earth, and the faint metallic tang of pre-battle tension.

Inside the dimly lit command tent, Chieftain Ixtiel stood before the holographic war table, observing the shifting projections of Val'katl's trenches, the river delta, and the movements of the newly arrived Salgaran forces.

His dark gaze flickered with quiet amusement, his mind weaving a strategy that had already been decided before this war had even begun. This was not about territory or honor—this was about breaking an enemy beyond recovery.

Standing near him, an imposing figure in a crimson cape and steel face mask watched in silence.

He did not need to announce himself—his presence alone carried weight, his very existence a testament to his role as Cosmus' most trusted warrior and enforcer.

Without looking up, Ixtiel smirked.

The Defiance Vanguard's Role

Maclar remained motionless, his voice low and absolute.

"The Defiance Vanguard will begin bombardment."

Ixtiel tapped his fingers against the edge of the war table. "All across the battlefield. No precision. No pattern. Let the sky rain fire upon them while they tear each other apart."

Maclar nodded. "The Vanguard will not engage directly. It will reposition only for optimal firing angles. It will not defend nor assist ground forces."

Ixtiel's grin widened. "Perfect. Let them believe the battlefield itself has turned against them. Let them feel their own uncertainty."

Maclar's voice remained steady. "If the battle turns against us, I will lead the retreat."

He gestured to a section of the holographic map, where hidden amphibious transport vehicles were positioned beyond the marshlands, prepared to ferry Ixtiel's warriors back to his city-state if necessary.

Ixtiel's jaw tensed for a brief moment before his smirk returned. "There will be no retreat."

Maclar did not react. "That is not your decision."

For a brief moment, the room fell silent.

Ixtiel did not enjoy being reminded of his place in the larger scheme of things. He was a warlord, a battlefield tactician, a force of controlled chaos—but Cosmus played the grander game.

Maclar's presence ensured that game stayed on course.

The Duel with Val'katl

Ixtiel turned his attention back to the battle projections, his amusement returning.

"Val'katl is too noble, too bound by his sense of honor. He will not refuse my challenge."

One of his officers shifted uneasily. "You intend to challenge him in the middle of battle?"

Ixtiel exhaled a short laugh. "Of course. He will see it as a chance to end this war with dignity."

His fingers hovered over the projection of Val'katl's forward trenches.

"I will defeat him before his warriors. They will see their leader fall, and their morale will crumble."

The officer hesitated. "And if they fight on?"

"Then we continue until one side is no more."

This duel was not a resolution. It was a formality—one that served his greater purpose.

"The fight will go on," Ixtiel said, his voice unwavering. "No mercy. No surrender. This battle does not stop until the field is ours."

The Battlefield Awakens

Maclar stepped back, folding his arms beneath his crimson cloak, watching as Ixtiel's commanders relayed his orders.

Outside, the sounds of preparation intensified.

Hover-platform engines activated. Marauder squads adjusted their formations. Energy turrets were calibrated. War machines locked into position.

Above them all, the Defiance Vanguard remained unseen, its presence masked within the anomaly. Soon, it would reveal itself with a storm of fire.

Ixtiel took a deep breath, inhaling the anticipation.

The Shadow of the Vanguard