Legacy of the Void Fleet

And then—it happened.

No warning. No sound. NO NOTHING!!

Just light.

A flare across the system, as if a star had been born and collapsed in the same instant.

The barrier shattered. Not all at once—but in jagged, violent fractures. Segments broke, then broke again, disintegrating into nothing. What was once a sealed, forbidden region became exposed space—raw, open, and dangerously unstable.

Jarkon had turned to leave, but froze as he watched it unfold on the wide display.

It was breathtaking. And terrifying.

His crew saw it too—across every ship, every rank. Millions across the Minotaur fleet felt the shift ripple through them.

And then came the mana.

It surged, ambient and alive, spiraling into the newly freed zone. The currents twisted space itself, making it shimmer and distort. The whole region boiled with invisible pressure—mana storms forming rapidly, surrounding every inch of The Breath as they slowly began to spiral inward.

The zone was no longer locked.

But it was far from stable.

It took a moment for Jarkon—and the rest of his crew—to snap out of their stunned silence.

The view before them was awe-inspiring: the shattering of a structure thought eternal, the release of power sealed away for eons.

Then Jarkon smirked.

And laughed.

A deep, guttural sound at first… then rising into something wild—almost unhinged.

”Finally… it’s broken.”

”Hahahaha!”

The crew flinched slightly at his eerie smile. They were used to hearing that kind of raw emotion from their commander—time and time again. But that chilling aura he released when he laughed still sent shivers down their spines. It wasn’t madness they saw in him—it was something worse. It was a victory.

A victory for a battle that hadn’t even begun. Yet their commander, as always, was brimming with confidence—or rather, it never even occurred to him that losing was a possibility, well, at least not here. And perhaps he was right.

According to the intel received from the Council of Edrel, this region—known as The Breath—had been sealed off millions of years ago. Isolated not just from the galaxy, but possibly from the entire universe itself. The mana within was said to be unimaginably pure and dense—at least, that’s what the old records claimed. But that was before the activation of the ancient artifact that cut this once-great region off from the rest.

The prevailing belief? Any civilization that might have once thrived here had long since faded. Consumed by time, decay, and the endless isolation. And if any remnants did remain, they would be nothing more than backward shadows of their former glory—no longer powerful, no longer a threat.

In simple terms: Victory was certain.

Sigh... if only these Minotaur’s knew.

A new power—one far beyond their comprehension—had emerged just months prior to these events. And whether by fortune or misfortune, that power had already set its eyes on this galaxy.And the Minotaurs? They were first on its list.

The plan was simple: crush them.Break their people. Shatter the pride they held so tightly.The strength they believed to be supreme would soon be measured against something overwhelming—something far beyond their understanding.

But, unfortunately, they didn’t know.Or perhaps they chose not to know.

They remained blind—blissfully confident, even arrogant. Even commander and warrior aboard the 7th Light Fleet, millions strong, held to the belief that this region was already theirs. They dreamed and planned for conquests still far in the future… never realizing how unprepared they truly were.

Ah, what delusion can do to even the mightiest of people.

They had accompanied Jarkon, the Grand Admiral, through countless shadow wars, witnessing him achieve absolute victory time and time again. He conquered enemy lands in the name of the Empire, leaving little more than whispers of resistance behind—and with barely any losses to his name.

Still grinning, Jarkon turned sharply toward his officers.

”High Admiral. Check the storm—how long until the spatial distortion caused by the mana surge settles?”

The High Admiral bowed slightly, already tapping into system readouts.

And once you’ve got it,” Jarkon continued, his voice dropping into a growl, ”begin preparations for departure. Time is against us, and we need to move fast—before those Genomes arrive.”

He stepped down from the elevated command dais, his horns casting shadows against the pulsing red lights of the room.

”We need to move fast—before those timely little creatures from the Genome Empire react and try to stick their claws in what’s ours.”

He clenched a gauntleted fist.

”This place will become the foundation of our second dominion.”His voice echoed with iron resolve.”In centuries—or perhaps even millennia—what we build here will grant us the power to rival even the Tier-1 states... and maybe, just maybe, devour them.”

He turned his gaze toward the desolate expanse known as The Breath.”Such is the potential of this forsaken region. Such are the things we might uncover in its depths.”

Then, with a growl:”And I won’t let them beat us to it. Not even a sliver of this sector will fall into their hands. Not a single fragment.”

”Now that the barrier is gone—dissolved under the pressure of the Universal Will and the Galactic Will—nothing stands in our way.”

His eyes burned with conviction. ”All that remains is the raging mana, surging toward this once-isolated region. Once it subsides, this star sector is ours for the taking.”

He turned toward his officers, voice sharp and commanding. ”We strike fast. Establish control. That part will be easy.”

Then, with a cold smile: ”And after that... we deal with the Genome creatures.”

And with a voice colder than the void, he spoke again—As a blood-red aura flared to life around him, the manifestation of his killing intent. It surged like a storm, oppressive and violent, as he allowed just a glimpse of the power he held. Power that had long since ascended into the World-Builder Realm, Ninth Level.

”And we crush them—utterly.”

”As you command, Grand Admiral Jarkon,” the High Admiral said with a respectful nod.

He turned toward the command crew, locking eyes with several officers stationed at their consoles. A chain of silent nods passed between them. They went to work immediately, systems flaring to life across the room.

Moments later, the High Admiral reviewed the incoming data. He turned back toward the center of the bridge.

”Grand Admiral. At most, the spatial distortion should stabilize within ten to twelve hours—just enough for us to begin safe deployment.”

Jarkon’s eyes narrowed slightly. He nodded.

”Ten to twelve hours… Hmph. That’ll do.”

He stepped forward, arrogance dripping from his voice, each word laced with subtle force.

”Begin fleet preparations. I want every ship ready to move the moment that storm clears.”

”Yes, Grand Admiral. I’ll see to it personally.”

Jarkon held his gaze for a moment, then gave a satisfied grunt.

Good. Also—have each Division Admiral summoned immediately. Right here, right now.”His eyes gleamed with intent.”We need to discuss what we’ll do about those little Genome Empire rats. They’ll come sniffing—no doubt about that. And I have no intention of letting them claim a piece of what’s ours.”A cold smile followed.”We’ll plan exactly how we’ll welcome them... and then crush them.

A low chuckle escaped his throat.

”Yes… they’ll try to take their share. But they’ll soon find there’s nothing left for them but wreckage.”

Time Passed.

Time slipped by aboard Tauros Prime, Grand Admiral Jarkon and his top-ranking officers sat in strategic discussion, mapping their response plans to the expected interference from the Genome Empire. With their battle maps lit up and projections laid out before them, they discussed fleet positioning, countermeasures, and the most efficient way to crush Genome resistance with minimal losses.

Meanwhile, back on the main command deck, a junior fleet navigation officer sat lazily swiveling in his chair, monitoring the fleet’s spatial scanners just below the command bridge.

His eyes glazed over the usual readings until it wasn’t.

—until something abnormal flashed across his console.

The Fleet Detection Module lit up like a warning flare and began to continuously blink.

A massive fluctuation—no, several—had just been detected. According to the readings, numerous unidentified signatures were approaching fast… directly toward their fleet.

Something massive was inbound. Multiple signals. Dozens. No—hundreds. no more then that

His expression twisted in confusion.

His eyes widened.”What the...?” he muttered under his breath, barely audible.

But the officer seated nearby caught the words.”What is it?” his commanding officer asked, leaning closer.

There was no reply. The navigator was frozen, eyes glued to the screen, stunned speechless by what he was seeing. It wasn’t just the number—it was the presence. Whatever these things were, they moved like a convoy… a fleet, and perhaps more terrifyingly—there were many of them.

The commanding officer moved in to see for himself. And then he saw it—An unknown signature, unlike anything in their database.Red warning glyphs spread across the console like a virus.

For a second, silence. Then—

”Sound the alert! Now!” he bellowed, his voice cutting through the air like a blade.Sirens blared. The crimson glow of emergency lights bathed the bridge in urgency.