First Intergalactic Emperor: Starting With The Ancient Goddess

Down below the mountain, floodlights cut through the red-tinted mist as teams of guards and drones worked across the shore. The sea below the castle was restless, black waves crashing against the metal cranes hauling up what remained of the wreck.

The black hovercar looked unrecognizable at first—half its shell torn off, edges crumpled and fused from heat. But it was still whole enough for anyone to tell it had once been a premium military-grade model. The kind of machine that only belonged to someone who had loads of money.

A group of vampire engineers and guards crowded around it, muttering. ”The power core’s dead,” one said. ”Interior’s fried.”

”Get the drones to sweep the seabed,” another ordered. ”If there’s anything left, I want it before the current takes it.”

Above, a few searchlights roamed the water while sonar units dived under.

By the time Reva arrived, the crews had already begun setting up a barrier around the crash site. Her steps slowed the closer she got. Her mind told her not to assume anything—but her heart already knew.

The moment she saw the color, her chest tightened. Black. Of course, it was black. The security head had already told her. But she didn’t want to believe it.

She knew that car. It was Xavier’s hover car. Sure there were hundreds of thousands of same car and it could be anyone’s, but Xavier had gotten it modified from the inside to his taste. But still she hoped she was wrong.

Her guard tried to stop her. ”Lady Eleanor, please. The area isn’t secure. You shouldn’t—”

She brushed past him without a glance. Her boots splashed through shallow puddles as she walked toward the wreck. She wasn’t listening anymore. She was only looking. Searching.

She ran her eyes across the mangled frame, her fingers brushing over the dented hull, the broken panels. Then she noticed something still intact—a narrow compartment between the front seats, or what was left of them. It shouldn’t have survived that kind of crash, but it had.

Ignoring the guards shouting behind her, she forced her hand between the twisted metal, pulled until it creaked open. Inside, half-buried under burned circuits, was a small, sleek plate—barely visible under the soot.

She wiped it clean with her sleeve. And there it was. The signature.

Kazimir Tovak. Custom series, model XV-12.

The same engineer who’d personally built and signed Xavier’s hovercar. Only one of those existed. He had made it for him. Even the model name was after Xavier.

Her fingers trembled as she held the piece closer, as if hoping the engraving would vanish and prove her wrong. But it didn’t.

Her knees weakened, and she stumbled back, staring at the wreck in silence. The guards were still talking, someone radioing the castle about the find, but Reva couldn’t hear any of it.

Her mind was blank—empty except for one thought, echoing like a scream in her skull.

Xavier.

Her throat tightened, eyes burning again. She clutched the metal piece to her chest, unable to breathe for a moment. The moonlight reflected off the sea, painting everything in blood.

It felt like the night itself was mourning.

Meanwhile, the meeting chamber at the heart of the castle was tense. The thick curtains were drawn, only the faint crimson glow of the red moon slipping through the cracks. Around the oval table sat everyone who mattered—Luther Von Stein at the head, the security chief, the elder council, the head of surveillance, the defense overseer, and the ministers of the various branches that kept the Von Stein dominion running.

The air buzzed with overlapping voices—guards and advisers throwing in their reports, excuses, and justifications.

”The car’s a total wreck, my lord,” one of the security heads reported, tapping at the holo projection hovering over the table. ”If anyone was inside, they’re dead. The impact shredded the frame before it even touched the ground. The retrieval team is still scouring the seabed for remains.”

Another voice followed, an older vampire with a trimmed beard and a jeweled collar. ”It could’ve been controlled remotely. A diversion tactic, maybe. We’re still reviewing the upper sky footage from the drones that lost signal, but the data fragments are intact enough to reconstruct.”

A flicker ran across the center holo-screen as a projection loaded. The room dimmed further, and all eyes turned toward it.

On the screen, the footage from the last drone played—grainy but clear enough to make out shapes. The clouds parted as the drone ascended. Then, just before static engulfed the feed, they saw it: a black hovercar slicing through the mist like a spear, fire trailing from its thrusters. Inside, just before the image froze, a silhouette was visible. Someone was in the driver’s seat.

Gasps and mutters followed.

”Freeze frame,” one of the analysts said. ”Enhance exposure.”

The shape became clearer—a man. Not detailed enough to identify, but enough to kill the ’remote control’ theory.

Next, the defense overseer pulled up the internal castle recordings. ”We used the residual mana sensors and radar overlays to reconstruct everything,” he said, his tone clipped. The footage displayed in red lines and heat traces—the castle, its barrier, and then the sudden intrusion.

First, the drones ascending. Then their feeds cut. The guards took flight. Seconds later—the hovercar bursting through the clouds, smashing through the towers, and colliding with the barrier. The defense field spiked, then died for a few seconds.

The projection ended there.

The chamber went quiet.

”It matches what the guards reported,” the overseer said. ”Nothing unusual beyond the speed of impact. We’ll retrieve the corpse once it’s found. If there’s anything left of it. But if it fell into the sea with blood then the beast must have already consumed whoever it was.”

Murmurs of agreement spread. Most of them were already done with it—treating it as an accident, not an incident. Chairs scraped as a few elders got up to leave.

Luther didn’t move. His gaze remained on the frozen projection—the moment of the crash, frozen mid-air. His expression didn’t change, but his hand tightened on the armrest of his chair.

He’d seen something none of them had. His chamber was in the tower with a direct view of the entire castle.

He had seen Xavier.