Intergalactic conquest with an AI

"It was I who forged the Long Sight, remember? It let you pass the veil and do something none of us were ever meant to do. You didn't just create life… you gave birth to a new Titan."

The Lady in White's expression shifted. Her eyes darkened slightly as her lips parted. "Yes… but you sealed his bloodline. You locked away his inheritance. Instead of walking among gods, he was thrown into the cycle of pain, life, and death like any other mortal."

She stood up from the rock, the wind catching her long, pale hair as she looked down at her sister with a mix of sadness and defiance. "You made him no more than a normal human…"

But her sister just smiled again, standing as well. She reached out and lightly poked the Lady in White's nose, making her blink in surprise.

"Yes," she said gently. "Because Titans born freely are feared by all... and he needed to grow before he could awaken. Sometimes, to change the galaxy, the smallest ember must walk through the coldest night."

Her gaze turned distant, almost melancholy. "And he is changing it. You can feel it, can't you?"

The Lady in White lowered her eyes. She said nothing.

Above them, the stars whispered. Below them, the beasts roared. And somewhere, far, far away a man named Rex continued walking unknowingly toward his destiny.

On the other side of the galaxy, far from the chaos near Cleopatra Fortress, the Annual Megacorp Conclave had commenced.

This year, the host was none other than the Syndicate, arguably the most feared of the major players, a shadow empire built through under-the-table deals, black market dominance, and ruthless enforcement. They didn't operate under traditional laws; they were the law in the underworld.

The location was one of their Eden Planets, a carefully terraformed paradise world used for rare, high-security events like this. It was as beautiful as it was deceptive.

Despite their rivalries, all megacorps followed the two sacred rules of the Conclave: No aggression. No combat or assassination attempts during the meeting. Personal presence is mandatory. No holograms, no clones, no proxies.

Each CEO had to appear in person, accompanied only by a maximum of two Elders or high-ranking members of their inner circle. Fleets were prohibited from coming within two warp jumps of the meeting planet to prevent any attempts at military intimidation.

Inside the ornate, high-ceilinged chamber carved into a cliffside mansion, four CEOs had already taken their seats at a round obsidian table:

Percival of Nexum Dynamics, known for his arrogance and disdain for "less civilized" powers.

Silena of Dethurm Omega, a cold strategist whose silence was often more terrifying than threats.

The Big Boss, the mysterious and calculating leader of The Syndicate, hosting the event with measured control.

And Elias Vaughn, CEO of the Free Colonies, known for his diplomatic tact and his subtle push for decentralized power.

A fifth seat remained conspicuously empty.

Standing up from his heavy wooden chair, The Big Boss, a man cloaked in shadow, wearing a pristine white suit with black gloves, cleared his throat.

"Well then, ladies and gentlemen," he began, his deep voice reverberating through the chamber, "since we are all aware of the current situation regarding the fifth seat... we shall begin by addressing it."

He flicked his fingers, and a dozen holo-screens burst to life above the table, displaying footage, charts, and reports. Each screen flew toward the seated CEOs, adjusting itself for optimal viewing.

Percival scoffed as he scanned the data.

"Typical. That entire corp is just a war camp with delusions of business," he sneered, leaning back and kicking his legs up on the table, ignoring the annoyed glance from Silena.

"Their CEO's been dethroned again, hasn't he? Probably gutted in a duel by some backwater warlord with a bigger stick. A bunch of savages masquerading as executives."

Silena finally spoke, her voice icy. "Say what you will, Percival, but the fact remains that they control six key mining belts and three trade nexuses. If their civil war ends in the wrong hands, we all bleed credits."

Vaughn nodded, folding his hands. "Instability breeds opportunity… but also risk. If someone unhinged rises and unites them, they could destabilize half the fringe sectors before we can react."

The Big Boss simply watched them with a faint smirk.

"Indeed," he said slowly, "which is why this meeting may be more important than any in the last fifty cycles. With the fifth megacorp leaderless and another new player shaking up the board... the balance is shifting."

He tapped on the table, and the screens changed. A familiar face appeared, grainy, flickering, but unmistakable.

The room went silent.

Percival slowly lowered his feet from the table, eyes narrowing. Vaughn leaned forward slightly. Silena didn't move, but her fingers tightened around her wine glass.

"Who is he?" Vaughn asked.

The Big Boss gave no answer at first. Just a knowing grin.

"Someone... inconvenient."

Though none spoke it aloud, it was clear from their eyes that each CEO recognized the face on the screen. Some more than others.

But Percival, the head of Nexum Dynamics, was visibly the most irritated, his jaw clenched, his glare sharp enough to cut through glass.

"That's one of those new annoying flies," he muttered, voice laced with disdain. "I don't see why he deserves a place in this meeting."

Silena leaned forward, resting her chin on her steepled fingers, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. "Of course you'd say that," she said coolly. "After all, that 'fly' is buzzing around your territory, isn't he?"

Percival shot her a glare sharp enough to kill.

"So what if he is?" Percival growled. "He's just a kid with some borrowed power, running around with the title of 'Conqueror' like it means something. He's a pretender. A punk."

"Pretenders don't wipe out entire warbands and capture fortress worlds in weeks," Silena replied with a tilt of her head. "Your security reports say otherwise, don't they?"

Before the exchange could escalate further, Vaughn of the Free Colonies broke the tension with a whistle as he examined the holo-image.

"I'll say this," he said, his tone more amused than concerned. "I've never seen his face before. Pretty young lad, isn't he? Has that... dangerous charisma some of my generals had before they went rogue."

Then came the voice of the Big Boss.

"I disagree with your evaluation, CEO of Nexum," he said while exhaling a stream of smoke as one of his Elders lit his cigar. The air around him grew thicker, colder. "He is no mere fly."

The CEOs turned as he leaned back, folding his gloved hands.

"I don't know how much you remember about the Ancient Empire, the one that disappeared over a thousand years ago, but he is connected to it."

Silence dropped like a hammer.

Silena's smile vanished. "The Ancient Empire?" she asked, her voice low, serious now. "You mean them... the Kaelzar? The ones whose ruins gave us... everything?"

The Big Boss nodded once, slowly. "Indeed. The empire whose relics built our fleets, our AI cores, our mass drivers... the very foundation of every major tech advancement in this era. That empire."

The implications rattled the room.

The rise of the megacorps had only been possible due to scattered ruins, occasional intact databanks, and black-box devices reverse-engineered over centuries. If someone had a direct connection to that empire...

"Is this confirmed?" Vaughn asked, now serious. "You've seen the tech yourself?"

The Big Boss smiled faintly. "More than just tech. He's operating from a fortress that predates even our earliest ruins. Something alive. And he's using it."

No one spoke. Even Percival had gone pale.

"And so?" Vaughn finally asked, measured. "What are you proposing, Boss?"

"Nothing radical," the Big Boss said, shrugging. "You may approach him. Recruit him. Buy him. Enslave him if you must. I don't care how you do it."

He paused and took one more drag from his cigar.

"But killing him? That is strictly forbidden until we extract everything he knows about the Kaelzars and their legacy."

Another puff of smoke curled into the air, like a ghost escaping a tomb.

"After that?" Percival asked through gritted teeth.

"Then do whatever you want," the Big Boss said, his smile returning. "But until then... he is untouchable."

Meanwhile, far from the power struggles of CEOs and ancient secrets whispered across boardrooms, Rex remained blissfully unaware of the brewing storm across the stars.

His attention was fixed entirely on the command bridge of Cleopatra, the massive fortress-ship humming with deep energy as it prepared for a monumental jump.

Around him, holo-screens floated like digital specters, each showing detailed calculations, interstellar coordinates, power readouts, and tactical overviews.

Cleo stood beside him; her expression was focused but calm. Her gaze darted between subroutines and gravitational flux data as she coordinated the preparations.

"The treasure fleet has arrived," she finally said, her voice even but sharp. "Their flagship entered low orbit over Kator twenty minutes ago. Our planetary sensors confirm no orbital bombardment yet. They're waiting."

Rex didn't respond immediately, his eyes locked on the wormhole framework projections expanding before them. Cleopatra's drive core pulsed like a living heart, preparing to tear open the fabric of space.

"I sent the notification to our governor," Cleo added, glancing at Rex. "She's playing host."

Rex exhaled through his nose, tension tightening in his jaw.

In the heart of the emerald capital of Kator, within a polished marble estate overlooking a silver river, the young girl, who was barely ten years old in appearance but commanded the dignity of a sovereign, smiled sweetly as she welcomed the envoys of the treasure fleet into her grand hall.

Clad in a formal gown stitched with the emblem of Nexum, she stood beneath a stained glass window depicting the liberation of Kator.

Servant bots moved quietly around the room, offering refreshments and acting the part of innocent host staff. But hidden within their eyes were recording subroutines and combat protocols, ready to trigger at a single command.