Legacy of the Void Fleet

As I stood there, gazing down at Earth, a mix of emotions churned inside me: excitement, dread, and determination. This was my home, yet it felt distant—like a place I no longer truly belonged to.

The Empress remained silent, letting me process my thoughts. But I knew I couldn’t hesitate forever.

I turned to her. ”Prepare for my departure. I’ll be heading down tomorrow.”

She raised an eyebrow. ”Alone?”

I nodded. ”Yes. This is something I need to do on my own. And there’s no need to make it enormous—no one will even notice the process.”

”I’ll just teleport there directly.”

Her expression flickered with something—concern, perhaps—but she didn’t argue. Instead, she simply said, ”Understood. I’ll have it ready.”

”Ah, one more thing—Empress, do notify me when they’ve reached the park, will you?”

She nodded. ’I will, Kallus.’

I said with a genuine smile, ”Thank you, Empress.”

She also smiled and nodded, ”I’ll go and prepare then!”

With that, she left.

the Empress left, leaving me alone with the white furball still curled up and sleeping on my bed. I sighed, emotions swirling inside me as I reflected on everything that had happened—the choices I made, my own shortcomings, and the way I had become a disappointment, both to the Empress and that being.

I wasn’t always like this. But somewhere along the way, I had changed. I knew that fundamental shifts in character didn’t happen instantly, yet here I was, feeling like a shadow of who I once was.

Still, I couldn’t dwell on it forever. First, I would do what I could—meet my parents tomorrow and finally lift this burden off my shoulders. Only then could I truly focus on the important matters demanding my attention.

But before that…

I moved toward my meditation mat, sitting down cross-legged and closing my eyes. Reaching deep into the depths of my soul, I accessed the countless memories locked away within me—memories of all the Kalluses who had existed across different realities and universes, their experiences left behind when they merged into me.

For the longest time, I had sealed them away, refusing to absorb them out of fear—fear that I would change in ways I couldn’t predict. But the truth was, that fear had always been irrational. The possibility of losing myself was nonexistent. And yet, I had hesitated. Find more chapters on My Virtual Library Empire

No more.

It was time to accept them—truly.

For now, I focused only on the memories of this universe’s Kallus. As I broke the seal, a flood of experiences surged into my mind, playing out not like a distant film, but as if I were truly living through them.

I felt everything—his every emotion, his joys, his struggles, his losses. They all felt as if they had happened to me all along. Moments of happiness made me smile, while others brought tears to my eyes. Not tears of sorrow, but of understanding.

I wasn’t just watching his life. I was living it.

As the memories surged into my mind, I slowly lost myself in them. Each fragment, each experience, seamlessly blended into me—I wasn’t just recalling them, I was truly living them.

From his childhood to the events leading up to two months ago—when things took a turn. For better or worse, I don’t know.

For the most part, his early years mirrored mine, with little to no differences. That is, until he turned sixteen. In my previous life, that was the age when I lost my parents.

But in his life, that tragedy never happened. His life progressed smoothly, and even Luna was born that same year. That moment alone was cause for celebration.

Fate truly wove different paths for everyone.

But I didn’t feel bitterness or envy—what was meant to happen would happen, one way or another. And I had come to learn that the hard way.

If nothing else, I was glad that in at least one reality, a version of me got to live a happy life, even if only for a little while longer.

I continued to absorb and integrate his memories, feeling every hardship and triumph as if they were my own. His pain, his happiness, the obstacles he overcame—I lived through all of it. But more than just his emotions, I inherited something far greater.

His resilience. His ingenuity.

These traits I once held but had long since lost.

Stolen—or rather, deprived—from me by that single, fateful event, all because of my lack of will to move forward.

Yet now, they were slowly but surely reawakening within me. But I didn’t know that at the time, for I was immersed in the moment, living it myself.

As the final moments of his life settled into my consciousness, fully merging with my own, I slowly drifted back to reality. My eyes fluttered open. My breathing was calm and steady. My mind felt clearer than it had in a long time.

On the surface, nothing had changed.

And yet, something had.

I could feel it, even if I couldn’t quite put it into words.

Pushing aside the uncertainty, I focused on the memories—no, the life—I had just lived through. It was too vivid, too real to simply be called memories… even though I knew they were, in the end, just that.

I was no longer just me. I was him too.

And yet, I was still completely myself.

I was Kallus. The only Kallus.

I had changed. Definitely.

But more than that, I had grown—truly.

This growth wasn’t something I could see, nor was it something that could be measured. But deep within my soul, something had shifted—no, it had realigned to what it had always been. Fundamentally.

I had not gained something new.

I had merely remembered—remembered what had always been truly with me.

My fingers curled into a fist, and the air around it trembled, rippling outward with a force that sent a faint shockwave through the room. But this strength I felt—it wasn’t physical. It was something deeper, something metaphysical, something profound.

It was a renewed sense of self.

For the first time in what felt like forever, I truly understood.

I had always been strong. Physically. Mentally. And beyond.

And that... I had simply forgotten.

Forgotten because I had lacked purpose, lacked direction. But no more.

With a slow yet steady exhale, I rose from my meditation mat. The soft glow of the blue planet beyond the window bathed the room in an ethereal light, shimmering with a quiet brilliance beneath the radiance of the sun. The interplay of light and shadow stretched across the floor, casting intricate patterns that seemed almost alive.

And in the silence, I heard it—the faint hum of the ship’s systems. A constant, steady reminder of the power I held in my hands.

And of the journey that lay ahead.

As I gazed ahead with a renewed sense of purpose, the silence stretched, deep and unbroken—until a soft woof shattered it.

I turned, only to see a small, familiar figure stirring. The little commotion I had caused earlier had awakened my tiny companion—Fafnir.

The white furball blinked drowsily, his ears twitching as he stretched lazily, completely unaware of the weight of the moment I had just experienced.

I slowly walked toward him, stretching my hand out and gently picking him up. ”How was your sleep, buddy?” I asked with a small smile, running my fingers through his soft fur.

Fafnir let out a sound—a deep, rumbling purr, almost like a cat. But he wasn’t a cat. He was a wolf.

He woofed a couple of times as if to say, I enjoyed my sleep... and I could’ve slept even longer if you hadn’t woken me up.

I chuckled, scratching behind his ears. ”Yeah, yeah, my bad. But you should be used to me causing trouble by now.”

I played with him for a while, his soft fur and playful antics helping to ease the lingering weight on my mind. His tiny paws batted at my hand, his tail wagging in delight as he nipped at my fingers—not hard enough to hurt, just enough to remind me that he was still a little troublemaker.

It was a small, quiet moment, but it made me relax more than I expected. Despite everything that had happened, despite the burdens I carried, Fafnir’s presence was a grounding force.

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding and gave him one last scratch behind the ears. ”Alright, buddy. Time to get serious again.”

And just as I had said that, a red flicker appeared in my room, swirling in the air before solidifying into the familiar form of the Red Empress.

”Oh? You’re already up, huh?” she said in a casual tone, her crimson eyes studying me.

I turned to her and smiled. ”Indeed, Empress. Did I impress you? Well… I haven’t actually slept.”

”I know,” she replied, her gaze shifting toward the small white wolf in my arms. Her eyes twinkled slightly, a glimmer of hope in them—one I recognized immediately.

I followed her gaze to Fafnir, who sat comfortably in my hands, staring straight at the Empress. Then, to my amusement, he let out a sharp, stubborn woof and turned his head away, as if throwing a tantrum. His little action practically screamed: I don’t want to play with you. Go away.

Seeing Fafnir act so petulantly, I couldn’t help but chuckle. It was rare to see the little furball display such a personality, but then again, I couldn’t blame him. The last time he had tried to pounce on the Empress, he had fallen straight through her like a ghost passing through mist.