Chapter 9: The Council Watches

Deep in the void between stars, beyond the edge of any known solar system, a vast metallic ring rotated slowly around a crimson planet. Its structure stretched for thousands of kilometers, lined with towers that pierced into the heavens. This was no ordinary orbital station.

It was the Thirteenth Throne—one of the sacred seats of the Galactic Council.

Inside the central dome, twelve thrones sat in a perfect circle, each one made from a different element—stone, crystal, fire, ice, light, shadow, gravity, and more. Each seat represented one of the ancient species of the galaxy, the oldest civilisations that had ruled for tens of millennia.

The final, thirteenth seat was made of a cold, dark metal that pulsed faintly with purple light.

It was empty.

But not unclaimed.

A robed figure stood in the centre of the circle, a projection of an alien cultivator wrapped in layers of dark armour. His head was hidden behind a veil of light, his voice cold and mechanical.

"The report from Sector 999 has arrived," the figure said.

A second figure leaned forward from the Seat of Flame, its body made of flowing magma. "And?"

"The beacon was destroyed."

Murmurs spread across the chamber.

Another alien with feathers of gold on his back clicked his beak. "Impossible. That region was designated dormant. No lifeforms above stage six were recorded in the last cycle."

The veiled figure continued. "It seems… we were wrong. A new anomaly has emerged. A human cultivator—Stage Seven, Level 64—intercepted and eliminated a Guardian-class remnant before the seed could take root."

The chamber fell silent.

Then, a third voice—one ancient and sharp, from the Seat of Stone—spoke. "Humanity… has awakened again."

The magma-being hissed. "They were supposed to be purged fifteen hundred years ago. How did we miss this?"

"Error in celestial timing," the report said. "We delayed our cycle by one millennium. They've used the time to grow… silently."

The golden-feathered elder nodded slowly. "As they always do."

The veiled figure turned, projecting an image above the centre of the chamber. It showed a young man surrounded by fire, a ruined valley beneath him, a shattered void creature at his feet.

"This one is called Rael. No official galactic record. No origin."

"Unknown flame source."

"Spiritual signature—unstable, mutating."

"Potential carrier of a God Fragment."

That last word caused several thrones to flicker with sudden alarm.

The Seat of Shadows leaned forward, voice low. "Then he must be erased."

The magma-being slammed its fist. "Not just him. We must begin the purge. Now."

The veiled speaker raised a hand.

"There is a problem."

"Earth is currently surrounded by an ancient barrier. A spatial folding field built during the last human ascension. Our scouts have not yet breached it."

"Estimated time to coordinate a full-scale attack: 13 Earth months."

The chamber boiled with dissatisfaction.

"Too long."

"Too much risk."

"They will advance further in that time."

The Seat of Time finally spoke, its voice both young and old. "Then let the test begin."

The veiled figure nodded.

"A hunting squad has already been dispatched. Elite-level voidborn. One hundred units. No beacons. No monoliths. Just war."

"And Rael?"

The image of the human flickered above the chamber.

"He will die."

---

Far away, on the surface of Earth, Rael woke in a medical chamber inside Ember Sanctum's healing dome. The white walls shimmered with light-absorbing runes. Soft hums of spiritual currents buzzed beneath the floor.

His body ached.

His bones felt like stone.

But he was alive.

He sat up slowly, wincing as the movement pulled at still-healing muscle.

The door opened, and Selene entered. Her eyes lit up when she saw him.

"You idiot," she said, arms crossed. "You almost died. Again."

Rael managed a crooked smile. "I sealed the monolith."

"Yeah, and nearly got flattened by an ancient guardian." She walked to his bedside. "Do you even know what that was?"

Rael nodded slowly. "Voidbound. Left over from the last invasion. It was hiding underground. Probably hibernating until it could anchor to the new seed."

Selene handed him a bottle of refined spiritual water. "We analyzed its remains. That thing had minerals not found anywhere in the solar belt. It wasn't native to Earth."

Rael sipped slowly. "They've started."

Selene sat down. "Started what?"

"The pre-invasion rituals. Beacon planting. Domain mapping. Seed rooting. It's all part of their process. But this time, we interrupted it early. That means they'll come back harder."

Selene leaned back, her gaze darkening. "And what do we do?"

Rael's voice was calm. "We prepare for war."

---

Elsewhere in the Ember Sanctum, a war meeting was already underway. Commander Aelric stood at the head of a long black table lined with key cultivators, tacticians, and elders.

"The council confirmed the flare. We've decoded the pulse Rael intercepted. It wasn't just a beacon. It was a location transmitter. A signal to their forward base—likely just beyond the moon's dark side."

A murmur spread through the room.

Elder Myan, a tall man with frost-streaked hair and an aura of cold authority, slammed his cane on the floor. "We've fought them before. We will fight them again."

"But the world is different now," Aelric said. "In the last purge, we barely had ten cultivators at Stage Nine. Now we have over two hundred in our database—and possibly more in hiding."

Another elder, this one from the Array Sect, added, "If we reinforce the planet's outer barriers using modern spiritual arrays, we might buy time."

Aelric pointed at the center of the table where a map of Earth hovered.

"The barrier is breaking. Slow, but steady. If we wait for their main force to arrive, we'll fight a battle of survival."

"But if we strike first…"

The air shifted.

Eyes turned.

A young voice spoke from the door.

Rael.

Bandaged, bruised—but standing tall.

"We take the fight to them."

Aelric's brow lifted. "You're not fully healed."

Rael stepped forward. "But I've seen them. Fought them. And I killed one of their guardians."

"Earth has been on the defensive for too long. Let's change that."

He raised his hand—and dropped the black gem on the table.

It pulsed faintly.

"Let's invade them."

The room fell silent. The pulsing black gem on the table radiated a quiet hum, its dark surface cracked from the fierce battle that had claimed its source. Those present could sense it—power, restrained but lingering. Even fragmented, the artifact pulsed with a connection to the void, a link to the unknown territories beyond Earth's skies.

Elder Myan's eyes narrowed. "You propose we launch an assault into deep space… based on a relic harvested from a voidborn's corpse?"

Rael didn't flinch. "I propose we stop pretending Earth is hidden. We're already exposed. The monolith was the first move. The Guardian was the test. The next wave will be real. A hundred. Maybe a thousand. And they won't wait for us to recover."

Selene stepped beside him. "We still have the Spatial Rings of the Forgotten Ones. We can open gates. Short bursts. If we track the coordinates encoded in the gem…"

Aelric rubbed his chin. "There is merit to this. If they think Earth still lies dormant, an early strike might fracture their outer defense web. Buy us time. Maybe more."

"But we'd need a team," said Master Quen, head of the Elemental Division. "Elite cultivators. Stage Seven and above. Warriors who can survive void exposure, navigate alien terrain, and fight without Earth's spiritual density."

Rael spoke again, firm and clear. "Then let me lead it."

A few scoffs echoed. Elder Myan was the loudest.

"You? A barely-hardened Stage Seven? You can't even maintain your Flame Soul manifestation without collapsing. You need months—years—before you're ready for such a mission."

Rael met his gaze. "I fought a Guardian-class voidborn with nothing but instinct and raw force. I've seen the inside of their power. I've felt what they are. I'm not asking for your permission. I'm asking for your warriors."

Aelric raised a hand. "Enough."

He looked across the table.

"We vote now. Do we remain passive, wait for the enemy to descend fully… or do we send a preemptive strike?"

Tension gripped the air.

Then, one by one, hands were raised.

Selene.

Master Quen.

Aelric.

Even the skeptical Myan lifted his hand, albeit reluctantly.

"So be it," Aelric declared. "We assemble a strike team. Five warriors. One mission: breach their forward bastion. Extract data. Disrupt reinforcements. And if possible—destroy their gate relay."

He turned to Rael. "You lead. But fail—and we lose more than lives. We lose surprise. Understood?"

Rael nodded.

"I won't fail."

---

That night, the Ember Sanctum burned with quiet movement.

For the first time in a thousand years, Earth was preparing to go to war… off-world.

Across the continent-sized sanctum, messengers were dispatched, formations inscribed, and spiritual energy compressed into gateway cores.

And in the heart of the sanctum, five warriors stood before a golden ring etched with ancient runes. The Spatial Gate of the Forgotten Ones, inactive for millennia, now pulsed with life.

Rael stood at the front.

Behind him stood:

Selene, a Stage Seven water-type cultivator and master of flowing blade arts. Cold, tactical, precise.

Damon of the Ironsoul, a body-refiner whose fists had shattered mountains, known for his indestructible bronze physique.

Vira Nightglass, illusion master and Spirit Array Caster, her eyes able to perceive spiritual threads invisible to others.

And Kaen, the silent shadow—an assassin cultivator whose dantian fused darkness and time, allowing him to shift milliseconds ahead of reality.

The portal ignited.

Light surged outward, pressing against the walls.

"Coordinates locked," Selene said.

"Stability at 89%," Vira added, eyes flashing.

Rael looked at each of them.

"You know what's waiting. This isn't for glory. It's survival."

Damon grinned. "Glory's just the bonus."

They stepped through.

And vanished.

---

Light folded.

Time twisted.

And then they were there—on a barren, dead world just beyond the moon's shadow. The ground was made of black sand. Above, a sky filled with violet stars and orbiting fragments of broken moons.

And in the distance: towers.

Voidborn architecture.

Metallic, spiked, humming with energy.

Rael exhaled slowly. His Flame Soul flickered faintly in his core, guiding his senses.

"They don't know we're here yet."

Kaen disappeared into the darkness without a word.

Vira placed an array beacon on the sand.

Selene scanned the horizon. "They will soon."

Rael crouched, touching the soil.

It was warm.

Alive with alien spiritual currents.

"We move fast. In and out."

And with that, Earth's first warriors took their first step onto enemy ground.

The galaxy had forgotten what humans were capable of.

But they would remember soon.