My Talent's Name Is Generator

****** [Lyrate’s PoV]

The moment Billion ordered I moved and arrived in one of the teleportation hub, I did not waste time.

Hub number thirty-seven stood partially intact, its circular array of portals still humming faintly despite the chaos that had swept through the city. The unconscious prisoners Silver and Knight had gathered lay scattered around me. I had brought them here for interrogation, but for now, I wanted to complete the actual mission. These small, filthy scum could be dealt with later.

I extended my hand.

Roots erupted from the marble floor, thick and dark, coiling around the traitors’ limbs and torsos. The vines tightened gently but unbreakably, binding them in living restraints that would drain their strength if they so much as struggled. I left them there without a second glance. They were of no importance to me unless Billion required further answers.

The first portal shimmered.

I stepped into it.

The transition was brief, and I emerged onto a massive transit world.

This planet was not aligned with any single race. It existed for exchange, trade, and movement.

Platforms stretched into the sky, layered in tiers where ships docked in organized rows. Merchants and travelers moved between terminals, their clothing and physiology varying wildly. Energy conduits ran beneath transparent walkways, and overhead lanes shimmered with controlled spatial corridors.

Too much noise and too many people for my liking. I clicked my tongue and floated several inches above the dirty surface, my red dress flowing as though stirred by a wind only I could feel. My sword rested along my back. My red hair fell freely over my shoulders, and my gaze moved slowly across the docking platforms.

I required a ship.

Not a crude cargo vessel or an outdated civilian cruiser, but something capable of fast and stable sector travel for an esteemed being like me.

I extended my perception.

On the third upper platform, I found what I wanted. A sleek Feran vessel, narrow-bodied, reinforced with spatial stabilizers along its hull. It would suffice.

I shot upward without taking in consideration the no flying allowed sign board. When I arrived, three Ferans were inspecting the ship’s exterior. They turned when my shadow fell across them.

One of them frowned. ”This is a restricted dock—”

I did not let him finish.

A thin root emerged from the metal beneath his feet and struck upward, slamming him into the hull with enough force to crack his armor plating. The second lunged toward a console, perhaps to trigger an alarm, but a blade of condensed crimson sliced across his neck.

The third drew a weapon.

I appeared in front of him. My sword remained sheathed, yet a branch-like construct formed from my palm and pierced through his heart, lifting him off the ground. I released him casually, letting him collapse.

Security arrived quickly.

They were insectoid humanoids, armored and carrying energy pikes. Efficient, disciplined, and entirely irrelevant.

”Stand down,” one of them ordered.

I smiled faintly.

Roots burst through the platform, wrapping around their legs and torsos before they could advance more than a step. Several attempted to cut free, but the roots hardened instantly, reinforced by creation law woven into their structure. I flicked my wrist, and a wave of pressure crushed them downward, forcing their faces into the metal surface.

”I am borrowing this,” I said calmly.

None of them were in a position to argue. I entered the Feran ship and sealed the hatch. Navigation systems activated beneath my fingers as I interfaced with the console. The route to Argus was not difficult to calculate.

The engines ignited, and the vessel lifted from the platform without clearance. Several warning signals followed me into the sky.

I did not bother responding to their warnings. When the patrol ships rose from the lower platforms and moved to intercept me, forming a loose blockade in the upper lanes, I did not slow the vessel even slightly.

Instead, I extended my hand over the control panel and allowed a thin stream of crimson energy to flow outward from the hull. The energy condensed into narrow arcs that shot forward in precise lines, slicing cleanly through the approaching crafts.

One after another, their formations broke apart mid-flight, hulls severed as though cut by invisible blades. The divided ships spiraled away in broken halves, trailing smoke and sparks as I continued forward without altering course, leaving only drifting wreckage in my wake.

The jump to Argus was swift. As the planet came into view, I observed the violet sheen enveloping it.

A shield formed after he took over this planet. Billion’s presence was embedded within it like a signature carved into reality itself.

I guided the ship forward.

The shield reacted, scanning. For a moment, I felt its attention brush against me. Then it parted smoothly, recognizing the link that bound me to him.

A faint smile curved my lips. Billion was strong. No memory I had, showed me a man as strong as him. The ship entered the atmosphere, descending toward the capital where the new structure he had built rose like a declaration of intent. It was not subtle. It was not defensive. It was a symbol.

I halted the ship above it.

Below, activity erupted instantly. Sirens sounded. Demons moved across the city in a rush. Several Grandmasters rose into the air, their energy signatures flaring as they prepared for potential threat.

From the central structure, a surge of flame burst upward.

Primus.

He emerged in a streak of fire, his cloak trailing behind him like a comet’s tail. He halted in the air below my vessel, staring upward.

I stepped out of the ship and floated downward.

When he saw me clearly, a bright smile spread across his face.

”Lyrate,” he said, genuine warmth in his voice. ”What are you doing here?”

”Billion sent me. We need to talk,” I replied evenly.

His expression sharpened at once. Without further delay, we descended together into the headquarters. The interior halls were lined with demon guards who stepped aside as we passed.

Inside the central chamber, I turned to him.

”There is an organization called Hollow Star,” I said evenly, meeting his gaze. ”The planet Abor was their primary base of operations. We have taken control of it.”

I allowed a brief pause before continuing.

”However, seventy-two additional bases remain scattered across our galaxy. All of them are connected through Abor. Through its portal network, every one of those locations can be accessed directly.”

Primus’s expression grew more intent as he absorbed the implications.

”Billion intends to strike all of them simultaneously,” I added. ”A single coordinated purge, leaving no time for retreat or consolidation.”

I let my eyes narrow slightly.

”But as you are aware, we do not yet have sufficient numbers to execute such an operation alone.”

Primus folded his arms, listening carefully.

”You and your forces are required for that.”

His eyes gleamed with interest.

”A full sweep,” he murmured.

”Yes,” I said. ”No chance for retreat. No time for regrouping.”