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

A Warlord's Conviction

Inside the war command tent, Val'katl's voice carried the weight of finality. His warriors stood around him—Tlandar, Akashma, the leading warrior of the Eight of Boulderkeep, and his trusted generals—all awaiting his next command.

"The battle is already decided," Val'katl said, his gaze fixed on the holographic projection of Ixtiel's fortifications. "Everything is in our favor. Ixtiel must lose—even with the Defiance Vanguard hidden above us."

He exhaled sharply. "I have the finest warriors a commander could ever lead. We strike first—not to test his defenses, but to show him that this war is over."

A hush settled in the room. No one argued.

Tlandar nodded, his own Formicron interface syncing with his helmet. He could feel the strategy taking shape.

Val'katl's voice cut through the air.

"We go to the gates of Ixtiel and give him one choice. Surrender. Or be destroyed."

The Plains of Leipira trembled under the roar of Formicron thrusters, the distant glow of Val'katl's war encampment shrinking behind them.

Four massive war machines moved in perfect formation:

Val'katl, his Formicron leading the flight, every movement steady and deliberate.

Tlandar, at his right flank, his helmet synchronizing real-time battle data from his Salgaran warriors.

Akashma, her red cloak barely visible beneath her cockpit armor, focused, watching.

The leading warrior of the Eight of Boulderkeep, a veteran whose reputation in battle was legend, flew to Val'katl's left.

The four war machines soared over trenches, barricades, and shifting enemy lines—unopposed, unchallenged.

They did not stop until they were within striking distance of Ixtiel's forward defenses.

The enemy warriors below froze, watching the sky as death loomed above them.

Val'katl's voice boomed over the open channel, broadcasting across all enemy frequencies.

"Ixtiel. Your time is over."

His next words were not a challenge.

They were a sentence.

"Surrender now, or be annihilated."

Val'katl needed no further answer.

The sky exploded.

Missiles launched from the Formicrons, streaking toward Ixtiel's fortifications, tearing through barricades, engulfing structures in a firestorm.

Green laser blasts followed, ripping through enemy lines, leaving nothing untouched.

The trenches shook with impact, the earth breaking beneath the assault.

Chaos in Ixtiel's Camp

The first explosions ripped through the barricades, sending warriors scrambling for cover.

"We're hit! The outer wall is breached!"

"Get to the second defensive line—move! MOVE!"

"Where's the response fire?! Why aren't the turrets locking on?!"

A commander's voice broke through the chaos: "Get the Shadow Legion to the front! We need to reinforce the trenches!"

"They just flew in and opened fire—what was that?!"

Some warriors, panicked, ran for the inner bunkers, while others tried to hold their positions, shouting for countermeasures.

"The defensive shields failed—our power grid is disrupted!"

"Reroute energy to the anti-air batteries! Take them down!"

"Ixtiel must know about this—NOW!"

Within seconds, the once-organized ranks of Ixtiel's camp erupted into chaos, the shock and force of the unexpected assault unraveling their lines.

A Controlled Withdrawal

The moment the barrage was delivered, the Formicrons turned sharply, thrusters igniting as they soared back toward Val'katl's lines.

Their attack had been swift, overwhelming.

They had sent a message.

As they landed back behind their own fortifications, the commanders watched.

The smoke and fire from the attack still lingered in the distance, but beyond the destruction, they knew one thing:

Ixtiel had survived.

Now, they would see his response.

The First Strike