The Trash Guide Awakens: The Youngest General's Hidden Wife

The crystalline cavern glowed beneath the expedition’s portable lights, illuminating millions of motionless faces suspended in time.

Rhaevia stood before the nearest preservation pillar, studying the faint energy currents circulating beneath its transparent surface. Each formation contained a living person, untouched by age or decay for more than ten thousand years.

“These systems weren’t designed merely to preserve biological life,” she murmured, her voice echoing in the vast cavern. “They’re maintaining something much more complex.”

Raevor examined the readings on his wrist display, his silver eyes narrowing. “Their neural activity is suppressed, but the underlying structures remain intact. Whoever built this chamber expected the inhabitants to awaken eventually.”

“Then why has nobody awakened them?” Rhaevia asked softly.

Neither spoke for several long seconds, the silence pressing heavily against them.

Rhaevia turned toward the central platform, where a massive console stood beneath layers of crystalline dust. Unlike the surrounding machinery, its surface bore deep scratches, as though someone had attempted to destroy it before the chamber was sealed.

She reached out and brushed away the dust. An unfamiliar emblem appeared engraved into the metal, a central star surrounded by three inward-pointing crescents.

Rhaevia’s expression hardened. “The Third Sovereign.”

Project Genesis immediately activated within her field of vision.

[ANCIENT AUTHORITY SIGNATURE: CONFIRMED.]

[ARCHIVE CORRUPTION: DETECTED.]

[HISTORICAL RECORDS: PARTIALLY RECOVERABLE.]

[WARNING: RECORDS SEALED UNDER THIRD SOVEREIGN AUTHORITY.]

Raevor moved swiftly to her side. “Can you access them?”

“I’m going to try,” she replied.

Rhaevia placed her palm against the console and released a measured stream of golden Sovereign energy. Glowing light spread across the ancient machinery, illuminating symbols that had remained dormant for millennia.

The console trembled under her touch, and a massive holographic recording appeared above it.

At first, the projection showed a thriving civilization. Vast crystalline cities stretched across the planet’s surface, connected by luminous transportation networks. Ships traveled between orbital stations while enormous energy towers distributed power across entire continents.

Then the sky turned pitch black. A fleet descended through a massive spatial fracture, its warships bearing the same emblem engraved on the console: the Third Sovereign’s forces.

Then the sky turned pitch black. A fleet descended through a massive spatial fracture, its warships bearing the same emblem engraved on the console: the Third Sovereign’s forces.

The recording shifted to a command chamber filled with panicked officials.

“They’ve severed the outer connections!” a panicked officer shouted.

“The central archive is being overwritten!” another cried out.

“Your Majesty, we must evacuate the population!” a third officer pleaded.

A woman wearing a white ceremonial uniform stood before the central console. “Initiate preservation protocol,” she ordered, her voice cutting through the panic. “Seal the population chambers. If the network collapses, at least the people will survive.”

The image flickered erratically. Another figure appeared on the opposite side of the chamber, dressed in dark armor marked with the Third Sovereign’s emblem.

“Your preservation systems will not save your civilization,” the intruder declared coldly. “Its existence will be removed from every surviving record.”

The woman in white stared at the intruder. “You cannot erase an entire people.”

“Watch me,” the figure replied.

The recording dissolved into static.

Rhaevia’s fingers curled tightly against the console. The next recovered fragment showed the grim aftermath.

The cities remained standing, but their power networks had been severed. Orbital stations vanished from the star charts, and historical archives were systematically deleted or corrupted. Even the planet’s designation had been removed from ancient navigation records.

The final image showed the Third Sovereign standing before a star map. One gesture erased the planet’s name, and another removed its coordinates. A final command sealed the remaining records beneath an authority lock.

Project Genesis displayed a chilling conclusion.

[HISTORICAL ERASURE: CONFIRMED.]

[RESPONSIBLE AUTHORITY: THIRD SOVEREIGN.]

[PLANETARY CIVILIZATION: REMOVED FROM GALACTIC RECORDS.]

[POPULATION STATUS: PRESERVED.]

Rhaevia stared at the glowing words. The Third Sovereign had not simply conquered this world. She had attempted to erase its existence from history entirely, leaving millions of people imprisoned in a civilization nobody remembered.

“Why?” Raevor asked.

Rhaevia shook her head, her dark eyes filled with disbelief. “I don’t know. The recording ends before the final command.”

She turned toward the endless rows of crystalline pillars extending into the shadows. “But they preserved the population. Whoever initiated the protocol wanted these people to survive.”

“Perhaps they knew the planet would be erased,” Raevor suggested.

“Or perhaps they knew someone would eventually return,” she murmured.

The words had barely left her mouth when a sound echoed through the cavern.

Crack.

Both turned instantly. A thin fracture had appeared across the surface of a nearby crystal.

Rhaevia immediately approached it, her golden energy gathering around her fingertips. Inside lay a small child with silver hair and pale skin. Unlike the other preserved inhabitants, the child’s eyes moved beneath closed eyelids.

Project Genesis issued an urgent warning.

[UNEXPECTED BIOLOGICAL ACTIVITY DETECTED.]

[CRYSTAL PRESERVATION: FAILING.]

[NEURAL CONSCIOUSNESS: AWAKENING.]

“Raevor, help me stabilize the formation!” she commanded.

He moved instantly, releasing a controlled stream of Sentinel energy around the crystal while Rhaevia carefully adjusted the golden currents sustaining its interior.

Despite their combined efforts, the fracture widened rapidly. The crystal split apart with a soft, crystalline chime, and the structure shattered into harmless dust.

The child fell forward helplessly. Rhaevia caught her before she struck the ground, cradling her gently.

For several seconds, the child remained motionless in her arms. Then her eyes opened, revealing luminous gold irises that shone in the dim light.

The child stared at Rhaevia’s face, and tears immediately gathered in her eyes.

“You’re here,” she whispered, her voice fragile and small.

Rhaevia froze, her breath catching in her throat. The child clutched the front of her uniform with surprising desperation, clinging to her as if anchoring herself to reality.

“I knew you’d come back,” the child sobbed. She looked into Rhaevia’s eyes and spoke her final words, trembling with emotion. “Welcome home, my Sovereign.”

Rhaevia looked at Raevor in shock, feeling the weight of the child’s words settle over her. The child did not see a stranger or an expedition leader. She recognized the ancient ruler who had left them waiting in the dark for ten thousand years.

Raevor’s hand rested on his weapon, his expression solemn as he surveyed the endless rows of sleeping citizens surrounding them.

“It seems your past isn’t just recorded in machine archives,” Raevor said. “It’s waiting right here for you.”

Rhaevia held the child closer, feeling her small heart beating against her chest. She had sought to explore the frontier and escape the ancient throne, but the stars kept bringing her back to the lives she had forgotten.

“If they waited for me,” Rhaevia whispered, her gaze hardening with resolve, “then I won’t let the Third Sovereign leave them forgotten in the dark.”

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