Death of Hope

"God will be pleased with you," A cold and heavy voice rang, cutting through the oppressive silence. The words were laced with chilling coldness but also a hint of undeniable respect.

The one who spoke was a man of tall stature, standing over 7.4 feet tall. His physique was not thin nor bulky, just refined muscle perfect for his height.

He wore flowing, layered robes, his chiseled face framed by long strands of white hair. His cold, almost lifeless eyes gleamed a pale, eerie white, matching his chalk-white skin.

In front of him stood a man of similar stature, a figure with long, flowing golden hair that cascaded over his shoulders. 

His face, sharp and undeniably handsome, held an air of quiet intensity, and his golden eyes burned with undeniable confidence, giving him an aura that demanded recognition without a single word spoken.

However, this was no standoff between two men of authority, as the golden-haired human had a gaping hole larger than a basketball on the right of his chest, blood and fluids pooling beneath his feet like a muddy, growing pond.

"You have nothing to say to this grand audience?" The Robed man spoke, spreading his arm wide before continuing. "Nothing, To your people, to my people?"

The two men stood upon a vast platform, the rooftop of a towering, arched spire that crowned a grand palace. 

Above them, the blue sky was shadowed by colossal airships, marvels of peak technology. On their outer decks, individuals of various races, draped in noble attire, stood in silent witness, their gazes fixed upon the two figures poised atop the tower.

"We were meant to have a dual to death to end the battle between our warring factions," He said, his voice heavy with something that was neither pity nor satisfaction.

"Your victory would have ultimately resulted in the end of great war and given humanity the unchallenged and unified throne of the Milky Way Galaxy,"

"But your own people betrayed you," He exhaled, his emotions momentarily surfacing.

"You know why?" he bellowed, a hint of anger flashing across his face. "Because once I was killed, the only powers left would be the two human Empires, and a single statement from you would have ended the conflict between them."

"But you know what else a single statement from you would have done?" he questioned, and the gold-haired human stayed silent. "You could have rallied every living soul behind you and challenged for the throne."

"I believe you will not do it, but will you even have a choice? Will your own people wish to go back to being under the rule of old nobles, always fearing the cycle of struggle could continue at any point?"

"They will rise and struggle to cast aside the old hierarchy and crown a ruler worthy of the throne," He said, a low, amused chuckle escaping his lips. 

Every spectator present knew that every word spoken by White would come true, which is why the three reigning powers plotted to kill the greatest hero of the galaxy.

The nobles of various races drank and laughed, enjoying their great victory, even though each knew that the death of the hero would continue the great galactic war and that countless billions of their people would die over decades.

However, they will keep their power, and that's all that matters to the greedy, power-hungry nobles.

On the lower deck of one of the vessels, a group of men and women stood before a glass window, all watching the hero of humanity living his last few seconds before death embraced him.

"Ironic," A man murmured, his voice weighed with quiet sorrow. "The greatest duelist the galaxy has seen in this era will die in an unfair battle."

"What's worse, he will be remembered as the one who failed humanity in its greatest moment of need." Another added, his voice barely a whisper.

"Captain, what will happen now," A thin female voice that shook with shock and fear raised her concern.

"Captain?" a man called to the young figure, whose face was streaked with tears and his eyes clouded with anger and grief.

"Captain Vlad. Vlad?" he shouted, shaking the man, only for Vlad to calmly brush his hand away.

"What will happen Now?" Vlad spat, his voice dripping with rage and disgust, "The Galaxy will burn, and our people will die for years, if not decades,"

"Haider, The Great Lion will be cursed by every child and old, and no one will know what really happened," He growled as he slammed his fist into the window.

The shattering of bone and tearing of flesh rang loud, prompting one of the men to quickly grab Vlad.

"Captain, get a hold of yourself," He said as another man tried to restrain Vlad.

Vlad and his people were soldiers, not of really high rank but soldiers, and they had seen the war that had been going on for the last two decades, the ugly war that had taken their friends, families, peace, and now even their last hope.

They were forced to fight in the hopes of recovering their peace one day, and after years of struggle, when they finally were at the cusp of achieving it, their own rulers took it away from them.

Vlad and his group had paid a hefty price to come to see the final battle, but now they would be leaving with the greatest burden of their life because even though they knew the truth, they would never be able to reveal it.

Everyone present had small nano-chips embedded in their minds, each one controlled by Lucid, the Prime AI that governed all technology. 

According to the contract they had signed before being granted access to this planet if they even attempted to reveal what they had witnessed, they would instantly get executed.

The comrades let go of Vlad when White used his Photon-edged spear to pierce the head of Haider, ending the great hero's life.

Vlad watched with his breath caught in his throat, his body frozen as if the very air around him had turned to stone, and for a fleeting moment, time itself seemed to have halted, stretching the scene into something surreal and unbearable.

His mind refused to accept what his eyes saw. The last hope of humanity was gone, and now only war awaited them.

A hollow numbness spread through his chest. His fingers trembled, curling into fists, a cold sensation engulfing his every nerve as despair sank its claws into him—not the kind that raged but the kind that silenced.

Haider corpse stood tall and proud, not going down even when life left him.

While tears rolled down the eyes of the powerless individuals present, the nobles above them cheered and celebrated, their laughter only fueling the grief of those below.

Vlad was a hardened veteran, his heart long since frozen by war, but even he felt his reality collapsing around him, his mind plunging into a void of numb emptiness.

He understood that since he had agreed to eternal servitude to The Empire of Zenith Hegemony, he would fight in the upcoming war whether he liked it or not.

The only escape was suicide, and for a moment, he even considered it, but he instantly remembered the children of his elder sisters; he needed to give them a life, and he couldn't just run away from that responsibility.

His elder sister had done more for him than he could ever repay, and abandoning her children to face the turbulent times ahead alone would be an unforgivable betrayal.

The day ended with the announcement of Haider's defeat, sending shockwaves through the three standing empires. 

The day also marked the new beginning of the great galactic war, and Vlad, like a small cog in a great machine, was forced to work against his will.

He fought and killed, forever caught in the struggle between the desire to live and the urge to die. 

This cycle dragged on for four relentless years until, at the age of forty-seven, he died in a battle he never wished to be a part of, killed by his own people, who did not even know that they were fighting and sacrificing for the greed of their leaders.

The last thought Vlad had before their void ship was destroyed and flames erased him was the wish to see his family.

Darkness slowly crept over his senses, his mind fading into emptiness, and for a moment, there was nothing, no pain, no thought, just a hollow void. 

But then, suddenly, he felt his body being violently shaken, and a loud voice piercing through the fog clouding his mind, dragging him back to reality.

"Vlad, Vlad," 

Vlad heard his name being repeated, the sound cutting through the haze in his mind. Slowly, he recognized that the voice belonged to a female, and as his vision gradually cleared, he instinctively turned his head toward its source.

"You are going to be late for the Ascension Ceremony," she said, her voice sharp and urgent.

Vlad's vision was still hazy, his mind sluggish as he fought off the lingering grasp of sleep, but as the words registered, a jolt of confusion gripped his mind.

However, the words instantly lost their meaning when he saw the female, as a flood of memories, both good and sorrowful, came to his mind.

She stood just shy of six feet. Her face was a portrait of beauty, framed by cascades of pitch-dark hair, while her light brown eyes held a quiet depth, warm yet unwavering.

"Finally, the sleepyhead is up," She said, flashing a smile before adding, "It's already 6:20, and in forty minutes, you need to be at the testing facility."

"So hurry and freshen up," She continued, crossing her arms. "Come down for breakfast, and then I will take you there myself."