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 Impulse of Destiny

The weight of Khalzir and Asharuk in his hands was unlike anything Tlandar had ever felt before. The twin blades pulsed with an energy beyond the physical, as if the legacy of Val'katl, of Asemeri chieftains past, and of Astashica itself now surged through him.

He stood over Val'katl's still form, draped in the tattered blanket, his breath heavy.

Then, as if possessed by an undeniable force, he moved.

Tlandar turned toward the battlefield, where war still raged, and he ran.

The Sprint Toward War

Above him, Akashma's Formicron adjusted, her targeting system locking onto incoming threats. She noticed Tlandar's sudden movement and activated her comm.

"Tlandar—what are you doing?!" she shouted.

Akashma's voice crackled through the channel, frustrated and alarmed.

"You'll be killed out there!"

But Tlandar had already made his choice.

His feet pounded against the wet marshland, carrying him toward the battlefield, toward the heart of the war, toward destiny.

Above him, the Defiance Vanguard loomed, unleashing another blast upon the field, the ground splitting open with fire and destruction.

Tlandar evaded the falling debris, ducking low, weaving through the craters and wreckage.

And then, voices rang out from the battlefield.

Warriors who had been scattered, broken, desperate, turned at the sight of the lone figure charging into the fray.

A cry rose from Val'katl's warriors.

"He's alive! He's with us!"

And then, a ripple of energy spread through the battlefield.

What had been a desperate fight for survival suddenly became a resurgence of strength.

A New Fire in Battle

Tlandar leapt over fallen debris, weaving between blasts, dodging enemy fire, moving through the battlefield with the grace of a warrior reborn.

His presence alone sent a shockwave through his forces.

Salgaran warriors reformed their battle formations, moving with renewed purpose.

Val'katl's warriors, once losing ground, surged forward, pressing into Ixtiel's lines.

Tlandar's pilots executed precision strikes, breaking enemy formations.

Tlandar wasn't just a warrior anymore.

A force that could not be stopped.

And then, across the field, Ixtiel saw him.

Ixtiel's Breaking Point

Inside his command Formicron, Ixtiel's smirk faded.

His confidence, his arrogance, his sense of inevitable victory—it all shattered in that moment.

His hands trembled as he gripped his controls, watching his forces falter, their momentum fading.

Val'katl was dead. He had won.

So why were they still fighting?

Why were they getting stronger?

His own warriors, seeing Tlandar's return, seeing the surge in enemy morale, began to hesitate.

Their shots became wild, uncoordinated. Some stumbled as they stepped back, others misfired.

And then, as Tlandar raised the twin swords of Asemeri chieftains, Ixtiel's own Formicron faltered.

His war machine shook… and then dropped to one knee.

A symbol of power, now kneeling in the dirt.

Ixtiel's army saw it.

And in that moment, they knew.

The Proclamation of a Leader

Tlandar climbed atop a wrecked Formicron, standing high above the battlefield, both twin blades flashing in the firelight.

He raised them high into the air, their indestructible edges gleaming.

His voice rang out—strong, powerful, undeniable.

His warriors roared in response.

The battlefield shook with the answering battle cry.

In that moment, Tlandar was no longer just a warrior.

He was the Protector.

And the war was far from over.

The Warrior’s Reckoning