Part One- Angels and Demons.
Throughout Heaven and Earth, I alone am the honoured one. I am God's Princess. I am the daughter of a King.
Zenia’s thoughts were a mix of an angelic symphony.
A vision in platinum and amber, Zenia plummeted from the obsidian spire of the Zenith Citadel, the tallest skyscraper in the Imperium cityscape that scraped the heavens. Her descent was not a plummet, but a dance. A pirouette against the backdrop of impossible splendour.
The wind, woven from a thousand whispered wishes, played with her hair, haloing her head in a nimbus of moonlight. Her skin, the colour of sun-kissed bronze artifacts, flushed the rose of a desert sunset, and glowed with an otherworldly luminescence. Every curve of her toned body, evidence to years of rigorous training, was subtly accentuated by the clinging embrace of her advanced tech-wear, a spider silk web woven from liquid metal and stardust.
Around her, Planet Imperium unfolded like a dreamscape sculpted from alabaster and amethysts. Towers of glass and diamond, their peaks lancing the twilight, scraped the underbelly of the cosmos. Every facet, every curve, sang with the captured light of a thousand alien suns.
The atmosphere of Imperium had a sparkly essence to it, remnants of crystal rain that often poured and bathed the air in glitter. Bridges of spun light arced between the spires, their backs shimmering with the iridescent thrum of a million fireflies. Below, gardens sculpted from stardust and woven with the dreams of a thousand sentient species sprawled like emerald tapestries, dotted with pavilions of spun sugar and fountains that poured liquid moonlight.
With a terrifying impact, her body contacted the concrete pavement. Blood gushed out of her. Her right leg, disfigured, was bent backwards. Her bright red blood oozed from the back of her head, that had been bashed by the horrific fall. The crimson on the pavement shined in the glittery and sparkly atmosphere of Imperium.
Zenia smiled as the crimson oozed out of her. Wonderful, beautiful, enchanting, marvellous, glorious. Such were the sentiments of near death that Zenia felt as she faced the gorgeous red sun of Imperium. Gradually, most spectacularly, the familiar feeling of tissue repair perused through her senses, releasing hormones of delight. A bio hack that she had within herself. The ability to regenerate. Steadily, her wounds healed. Her broken limbs got back together, and she staggered up straight. Her spine was usually the last to heal. Thus, she stood hunched over momentarily, as she chuckled in an ironic but blissful tone.
Finally, she looked up directly at the top of the Zenith Citadel. Standing at the edge, between sculptures of angels and demons, was the man who had pushed her off the roof and sent her tumbling down three thousand metres onto cold hard concrete.
Between two sculptures of a sinisterly expressed gargoyle and a maestoso cherubim, stood the man with the ability to peep through dimensions. The man who inherited the six eyes of the cosmos. The man with the power of a thousand Titans. The man who eradicated an entire galaxy and united the cosmos to form the Cosmic Empire. King Norman stood at the edge of the Zenith Citadel, looking down at his daughter Zenia, whom he had pushed off the building, and sentenced to sure death. His piercing blue eyes never wavered as he looked at his bleeding daughter. The glittery Imperium wind blew through his golden blonde hair.
Zenia chuckled as she wiped blood from her forehead. Her left foot slid behind slightly. A grin formed on her lips. In a faint moment, she leaped upwards. With the strength of a thousand Titans, she hoisted her body into the air. The force was so great, that it pushed her all the way to the citadel’s roof. Her brown eyes met with King Norman’s blue eyes.
Petals of Sakura floated Zenia’s way and circulated around her. Imperium’s nature always loved her. Seven white doves flew to her, joining the pink petals in her orbit, forming a silhouette of dynamic wings around her.
As she hovered in the air, an atmospheric pressure barrier formed beneath her, that made her float. Reminiscent of a leaf in a stream. Majestically, her body became one with the air. Elated, she had a dreamlike smile that echoed the enchantment and invincibility she felt within. Zenia chuckled. She had the widest smile on her lips. Her cheeks were flushed and echoed youth. Her eyes beamed with unhinged optimism.
She was Zenia, Skydancer of Imperium, and the city, with its impossible beauty, was her canvas. And she, a brushstroke of defiance against the velvet night, would paint her story across the twilight sky.
“Through Heaven and Earth, I alone am the honoured one. I am God’s Princess. I am the daughter of a King.” Zenia, in a daze, floated around in the air.
“Are you the daughter of a King because you are strong? Or are you strong because you are the daughter of a King?” King Norman asked Zenia.
“I don’t know. All I know is that I’m gonna win this battle.” She replied with determination.
“And what if you lose?” King Norman asked.
“Nah, I’d win.” Zenia said before she lunged at him with a kick to his chest.
The sound and visuals of a shattering glass echoed through the air, as the laws of space and time bended.
Sunlight, dappled and filtered through emerald leaves, painted dancing mosaics on the white marble paths of the Garden of Ymir. King Norman, a crown of burnished gold heavy upon his brow, strode with a regal certainty. His long blonde hair was a golden river flowing down his neck. Beside him, Princess Zenia, her shiny platinum hair and brown skin inherited from her mother, strode as a counterpoint to her father's wintery elegance. She walked beside him, emulating his regal wind kissed gait.
Part Two- Gods and Monsters
Amidst the whispering palms and fragrant blooms, stood giants carved from dreams. Ymir, the First Giant, born from the Solar Nebula that birthed Earth’s son, the one who started it all. Ymir emulated a time before the eternal battle between life forms. The eternal battle that repeated itself in patterns for 4.6 billion years. A battle that Zenia was born into, for she bore King Norman’s DNA. Hence she bore the 4.6 billion year old parasite that was created from the same nebula that gave birth to Earth’s sun.
Ymir was known in Imperium as father of all. His marble sculpture rose from the ground. His immense form rippled with muscles like mountain ranges. His beard, a frozen waterfall, cascaded down his chest, each icy strand catching the sunlight like a thousand diamonds. In his hand, he grasped a serpent, its scales glinting like obsidian, its jaws locked eternally in a silent scream.
King Norman and Zenia continued to walk through the Garden of Ymir.
Further along, Atlas, the Titan of Strength, knelt beneath the weight of the heavens, his back bowed but unbroken. His veins, sculpted with meticulous detail, throbbed with an unseen power, the strain etched upon his face a symbol of his unending burden.
Each statue showcased a forgotten age of gods and heroes, breathing a silent story into the air.
And then, the path opened into a clearing bathed in emerald light. In its centre, the Fountain of the Jotnur sang its melody of cascading water. Carved from a single block of amethyst, the fountain shimmered with the hues of an enchanting afternoon sky. Crystallized snowflakes swirled within its depths, each one a frozen tear of a fallen giant.
King Norman paused, his hand rested upon the fountain's rim. "This, Zenia," he said, his voice low and reverent, "is the heart of the garden. The tears of those who dared to challenge the beastly lifeforms of this universe, forever preserved in beauty."
Zenia knelt beside him, her fingers traced the delicate curve of a snowflake. In its frozen heart, she saw not defeat, but defiance. A symbol of the courageous light that could shine even in the face of insurmountable odds.
And at that moment, amidst the whispering giants and the singing fountain, Zenia, Princess of Imperium, felt a spark ignite within her. A spark of the same fire that had once burned in the hearts of those who dared to touch the sky.
A zephyr blew past the two before King Norman spoke again.
“There was a time when Giants and Titans were the main inhabitants of Earth. Though similar on the outside, the two are very different. Giants are more beastly, while Titans are less beastly in nature. There was a power struggle, and eventually, the Titans wiped out the Giants. However, one group of Giants remained, the morphing Giants, those that possessed the ability to morph and shrink in size managed to blend in with regular humans and evade the Titans. Eventually, evolution occurred, and people began to look like each other. Each humanoid specie did nor deviate far from a common genetic print. However, the Titan power remains within those of Royal lineage.” He said.
“It’s the reason why my body has been showing signs of gigantism. That one genetic trait is the answer to my powers.” Zenia said.
“You have many genetic quirks within you, Zenia. This by far, is the strongest.” King Norman said. “With this power you also have the power to regenerate or generate your body cells at will. You could very well be the next stage in human evolution. The key to immortality. A living philosopher’s stone.”
“How long have you lived?” Zenia asked King Norman.
“Longer than you can imagine.” He replied. “I’ve seen civilizations come and go.”
Zenia asked no further questions. She simply looked outside at the beautiful Imperium scenery.
The wind swirled around Zenia and King Norman, whipping her platinum hair into wavy swirls and making his golden blonde hair look like fire. They stood side by side on the Zenith Citadel's battlements, dwarfed by the colossal golden bell beside them. Its polished surface gleamed like a trapped sunrise, reflecting the kaleidoscope of Imperium City sprawled beneath them.
From the dizzying height, the city thrummed with life. Slender glass towers, their silver skin dappled with glittery hues, snaked their way skyward, each one home to a thousand whispered dreams. Cobbled streets pulsed with a tide of brightly clad citizens, their voices a distant hum woven with the rhythmic chirping of flying carriages. These marvels of technology, painted in vibrant hues and buzzing with electric hum, zipped through the air like metallic dragonflies, their headlights glinting like fireflies against the sapphire sky.
Yet, even with their futuristic grace, the flying cars seemed miniscule compared to the silent guardians that watched over the city. In the heart of Imperium, sculpted from blindingly white marble, stood statues of titans, evidence of a bygone age of myth and legend. Ymir, the Frost Giant, loomed on the eastern side, his massive form crafted with such exquisite detail that every crack in the glacier-like stone that formed his hands whispered of ancient battles fought against fire and fury. On the western side, Atlas, the Titan of Strength, bore the weight of the world on his broad shoulders, his rippling muscles forever frozen in defiance against the crushing burden. Though unmoving, the statues thrummed with an ethereal presence, an echo of the power that once shook the very foundations of the cosmos.
Zenia shivered, not from the wind, but from the silent whispers of time that brushed against her skin from the ancient giants. She could almost feel Ymir's icy touch and hear the Atlas's pained groan under the celestial weight. The silent giants, older than the city itself, stood stoic against the backdrop of progress, a stark reminder of the ephemeral nature of even the most magnificent empires.
Part Three- Kings and Empires
Zenia and King Norman dined like gods, ensconced in a celestial alcove of "The Nacre Shell," Imperium City's most esteemed eatery. Their table, a polished slab of amethyst, hovered mid-air, secured by invisible technology and draped in a tablecloth woven from nebula clouds. Through the panoramic window, the vibrant sprawl of the city pulsed like a living jewel, skyscrapers scraped the heavens amidst a ballet of sleek, neon-kissed flying cars.
Their plates resembled miniature landscapes. A canvas of obsidian housed slivers of pearlescent caviar, each bead burst with the briny tang of the deep. Alongside it, a crimson coral reef of tuna sashimi bloomed, translucent slices adorned with edible gold flakes and paper-thin slivers of jalapeno. Wispy tendrils of seaweed, pickled and sweet, snaked around the plate, while dollops of wasabi emerald gleamed like misplaced jewels.
For Zenia, a chalice of freshly squeezed lemon juice shimmered like liquid sunshine. Each sip sent a jolt of vitality through her veins, fuelling the genetic exuberance simmering beneath her skin. Norman, in contrast, indulged in a goblet of crimson wine, its aroma a tapestry of dark berries and sun-drenched earth.
Father and daughter, both symbols of power, enjoyed bonding time together. A royal with another royal. Their inner resolve was only outmatched by the comet shower in the background of the city.
“When do you go back to school?” King Norman asked.
“The new semester starts in a month.” Zenia replied.
“You pulled a real stunt, breaking into the Intergalactic Alcatraz.” King Norman spoke stoically.
“I still had feelings for my ex, so I had to free him from that damned place you had him locked in.” Zenia replied.
“That’s a criminal offence.” King Norman said.
“I don’t care. The rules don’t apply to me.” Zenia replied.
King Norman looked at her for a moment before he looked outside. His face was serious and stern, as though he was contemplating something. Then, his stern and serious face turned into a light-hearted expression as he subtly smiled and looked back at Zenia.
“Well then, I guess you really are my daughter.” He spoke.
“How’s your mother? I haven’t seen her all summer.” He asked.
“I thought she was with you.” Zenia replied.
“No, she said she needed space, so I gave it to her. Now, I have no idea where she is.” King Norman replied. “I guess I’ll have to track her and send my soldiers out to find her.”
“I think she’s doing alright. After all, she is the Supreme Leader of both the Milky Way and Andromeda galaxies.” Zenia replied.
“You’re right. I suppose I should release my grip on her from time to time.” King Norman said.
“Yes, it’s healthy.” Zenia replied.
Between bites, conversation flowed like the shimmering wine. King Norman and his daughter Zenia discussed the whispers of rebellion brewing in the northern provinces of Kepler 452b, the delicate negotiations with the Cyberian envoy, and the latest breakthroughs in alchemical weaponry. Brief pauses were filled by the soft clink of crystal against amethyst and the distant hum of the cityscape.
A trio of silken-winged fairies flitted around the table, refilling wine goblets and weaving stories with their light-tinkered music. Each note, pure and clear, danced on the air, painting intricate murals in the night sky beyond the window. The melody, infused with the scent of star lilies and summer rain, wrapped around Zenia like a warm embrace, easing the pressure she felt within.
And as Zenia savoured the last sliver of tuna, the city lights reflected in her amber eyes, she knew that beneath the gleaming facade, beneath the whirring gears and soaring towers, the enchantment of Imperium City thrummed like a living pulse. And she, with her teenage hopes and dreams, was a vital note in the symphony of the cosmos.
“When my time of rule comes to an end, it will be your turn to rule over The Cosmos.” King Norman suddenly said. “I'll mentor you, to make sure that you grow into an even finer leader than me. I only ask you to do me one favour when your time of rule comes.”
“What is this favour?” Zenia asked.
“Complete my life’s work. Eradicate the inferior humans from this universe. So that the superior humans can thrive.” King Norman spoke in a passionate manner.
“You see, Zenia. Mankind needs a purging. The lower class of the species has multiplied in numbers. If not stopped, they will bring down the entire human race. All humans are created equally. But not all humans are equal.” King Norman spoke.
“You’re a lucky girl. You won the genetic lottery, and you were born into wealth.” He continued. “The future I envision for mankind is one where the lower humans do not bring down the advanced humans like you.”
Just then, a waiter walked to them. The look on his face was one of someone who was eager to please. After all, if he gave good service, he would be thrown a bone, given a tip. The tone of his voice, manufactured and tailored from years of pretence.
“Is everything alright? Can I get you some more water?” The waiter asked.
“We’re alright. Thank you.” King Norman replied to the waiter with an equally insincere smile.
“Enjoy your dessert.” The waiter bowed and walked away.
“Yay! Crème Brulé!” Zenia clapped as a smile appeared on her face.
King Norman chuckled at his daughter’s enthusiasm.
A gasp escaped Zenia as the air shimmered above their table. Through the ethereal haze, a floating platter materialized, borne aloft by unseen magic. Its polished obsidian gleamed like a captured night sky, adorned with a constellation of delights that made her stomach rumble in anticipatory joy.
At the platter's heart, a quartet of crème brûlée stood like miniature golden suns, their caramelized surfaces whispering promises of crackle and molten sweetness. Beside them, a miniature mountain range of frosted doughnuts rose, each peak dusted with sugar of a hundred hues, glistening like fallen gemstones. From their fluffy dough winked dollops of strawberry jam, blueberry compote, and rich chocolate ganache.
A silver goblet, chased with swirling moonlight, brimmed with the thickest, creamiest milkshake Zenia had ever beheld. Its surface swirled with a vortex of vanilla bean flecks, dark chocolate chunks, and sun-kissed strawberries, a miniature galaxy condensed into a single, intoxicating sip. Next to it, a scoop of lavender ice cream, its hue the twilight whispered by moonlit lilacs, nestled beside a companion scoop of mango sorbet, its colour the blush of a sunrise seen through the rose-tinted glass.
But the platter's true masterpiece was yet to be revealed. Tucked under a diaphanous dome of spun sugar, a custard pie held court. Its golden crust cradled a creamy heart that seemed to hum with the scent of warm vanilla and freshly grated nutmeg. A scattering of plump blueberries with skins taut with sunshine, adorned its surface, promising a burst of tartness to counter the custard's rich embrace.
As the platter gently descended, the air vibrated with the symphony of scents. The caramelized promise of the brûlée, the honeyed lure of the doughnuts, the intoxicating swirl of the milkshake, the floral charm of the lavender ice cream, and the warm, comforting embrace of the custard pie. It was a concerto of pure indulgence, a poem whispered in sugar and spice, a promise of pure, unadulterated pleasure.
With a shared smile, Zenia and Norman reached for their forks, ready to delve into the edible Eden. They knew, in that moment, that even amid the grandeur of Imperium City, the greatest enchantment sometimes came on a platter, in the form of a well-crafted sweet. For them, that night was a celebration of life's little joys. The delicious dessert was a stolen moment of sugary bliss amidst the whirlwind of a world built on technology and power.
“So, shall we go?” King Norman asked as he stood up and put in his white overcoat.
“Yes, let’s go.” Zenia replied as she got up and put on her black overcoat.
Zenia walked behind King Norman as they headed to the entrance of The Nacre Shell.
“Thank you for coming.” A waiter and waitress politely said to them while bowing.
“Thank you too.” King Norman replied and left a tip at the counter.
As they walked out into the city, the cool Imperium air brushed past them, elating Zenia and making her flustered. The red sun of Imperium had set a long time ago. However, the remnants of its rays spiralled out onto the sky, creating the illusion of red dancing star dust. At that moment, their valet drove to them and handed King Norman’s keys to him.
“We’re not using the limousine?” Zenia asked due to the sudden change from what she was usually used to.
“I felt like going on a drive with my daughter.” King Norman replied.
“Did you get your driver’s license yet?” King Norman asked Zenia.
“I felt like going on a drive with my daughter.” King Norman replied. “Did you get your driver’s license yet?”
“I did this summer.” She replied.
“Do you know how to handle a flying car?” He asked.
“Yes, I do.” Zenia replied.
“Good. You’re driving.” He said as he handed her the Rolls Royce keys.
Zenia eased the car through the iridescent veins of Imperium City's skyways. Below, the metropolis thrummed like a living jewel. Skyscrapers, clad in glass scales that shimmered with a thousand neon hues, clawed at the clouds. Towering holo-displays flickered with holographic advertisements, their shimmering forms dancing like fireflies against the twilight canvas.
The sky hummed with the electric purr of flying cars, their polished bodies gleaming like chrome dragons under the city's neon glow. Sleek airships, their bellies fat with cargo and passengers, lumbered between the skyscrapers, casting fleeting shadows like giants striding through a playground of light.
On the sidewalks, citizens draped themselves in the city's opulence. Women flowed in gowns woven from the rarest minerals, their skin kissed with bioluminescent tattoos that pulsed with the rhythm of their hearts. Men sported armour sculpted from obsidian, etched with swirling runes that whispered of forgotten magics. Children’s hair was woven with holographic ribbons. Little girls and little boys chased luminous butterflies through holographic gardens that blossomed from hidden courtyards.
Zenia dipped her car lower, weaving through the neon canyons until she reached her destination: a towering obelisk of jade, crowned with a swirling vortex of energy. That was the Zenith Spire, Imperium City's heart, a nexus of alchemy and technology that pulsed with the city's lifeblood.
As she stepped out, the energy crackled around her, prickling her skin with a familiar thrill. Above, the swirling vortex pulsed with a hypnotic rhythm, casting the jade edifice in an ever-shifting kaleidoscope of colour. The air sang with the whispered hum of a thousand arcane circuits, the city's secrets woven into the very fabric of the building.
“What is this place, Dad?” Zenia asked King Norman.
“It’s where I come to meditate.” King Norman replied. “But it is also a portal between dimensions.”
King Norman surveyed his kingdom from the emerald Aerie atop the Zenith Spire. The jade platform, vast enough to land a squadron of flying cars, was his private sanctuary, a balcony upon the glittering symphony of Imperium City. A plush golden carpet spun from threads of sun-kissed silk, flowed from the obsidian threshold. Its opulent path bisected the platform.
At the furthest edge, bathed in the ethereal glow of the swirling energy vortex above, stood two ancient works of art, transported from a long-forgotten Earthian era.
One, a Pietà carved from moonlit marble, depicted the Virgin Mary cradling the body of her crucified son, Jesus Christ. The wavy nature of his blonde locks was accentuated by the intricate curvature of the marble from which his image was carved. The Virgin Mary’s sorrow, etched in the delicate lines of her face and the gentle curve of her arm, resonated across time and space, a silent echo of universal grief.
“His was a quantum birth. Just like yours.” King Norman said to Zenia.
Across the platform, bathed in the neon glare of a pulsing sky signage that proclaimed "David, the Titan, defeats Goliath, the Giant," stood a marble rendition of the victorious shepherd. His youthful form rippled with the tension of a recent battle. He held aloft the severed head of the Alpha Colossal giant, its stony face frozen in an eternal sneer. The stark contrast between the serene Pietà and the triumphant David spoke volumes of Imperium City's soul, a work of art woven from both beauty and brutality, faith, and pragmatism.
“Throughout the ages, they have been the prey, we have been the hunters. With every dynasty, the prey attempts to become the hunter. However, that is against the laws of nature. The true order is constantly restored. Such is the pattern of life.” King Norman said.
Zenia followed closely behind him as she looked at the sculpture of David.
She inhaled deeply, the city's symphony washing over her. Neon rivers coursed through the airship arteries, skyscrapers hummed with the lullaby of magic, and flying cars darted like fireflies among the clouds. The air thrummed with an electric energy, a potent cocktail of old and new, tradition and innovation.
She inhaled deeply, the city's symphony washing over her. Neon rivers coursed through the airship arteries, skyscrapers hummed with the lullaby of magic, and flying cars darted like fireflies among the clouds. The air thrummed with an electric energy, a potent cocktail of old and new, tradition and innovation.
She ran a hand over the smooth jade entrance of the obelisk, its surface cool against her skin. Imperium city, her father’s city, throbbed with life, a symbol of the boundless human talent of space colonization. Within its dynamic embrace, Zenia found a strange sense of order, a fragile balance carved from the remnants of a forgotten past and the dreams of a shimmering future.
King Norman settled onto a throne of obsidian, carved into the shape of a mythical phoenix, its razor-sharp beak curled around his armrest. Below, the neon symphony continued. An endless performance against the velvet curtain of night. Above, the energy vortex swirled, whispering secrets on the wind. And in that moment, bathed in the city's ethereal glow, King Norman appeared to be more than a ruler. Zenia felt a strange sensation as she looked at him. At times he looked human. However, in other instances, such as that moment, she sensed something else within him. Something otherworldly. She didn’t entirely know him. But then again, she was still getting to know herself.
Zenia felt a strange sensation within her cells. They hummed with energy that came from an unseen source. She sensed that Imperium City was more than just a metropolis. It was some sort of living organism. And yet, despite its grandeur, amidst the neon symphony and the thrumming alchemy, Zenia found a strange solace in the city's embrace. This city of contradictions, where ancient sorcery rubbed shoulders with cutting-edge technology, was her haven. In its glittering embrace, she was both anonymous and free, a flicker of flame in the city's eternal fire.
Part Four- Titans and Giants
King Norman snapped his fingers and an alchemical barrier formed around the Zenith Spire.
The Zenith Spire was cradled in the embrace of an ethereal bloom. No ordinary flower, this was a construct of alchemical brilliance, woven from threads of platinum and moonlight. It pulsed with an inner luminescence, casting an enchanting glow upon the spires and bridges that clung to the obelisk’s flank.
From the bustling avenues of the lower city, the barrier resembled a gargantuan lotus, its petals unfurling in slow, mesmerizing grace. Each petal, crafted from a platinum so sheer it seemed spun from moonlight, rippled with an inner fire, the colour of liquid dawn. Veins of purest white pulsed with the city's lifeblood, the flow of celestial aether that sustained its very existence.
At its heart, where the stamen of a mortal lotus might reside, thrummed a sphere of unimaginable brilliance. It was a sun in miniature, forged from a thousand captured stars. Its corona shimmered with every hue imaginable. This was the Zenith Spire's true aegis, a beacon of defiance against the encroaching darkness.
Runes of power from the earliest days of mankind danced across the platinum surface, whispering secrets of forgotten constellations and the primal forces that birthed the cosmos. Delicate filigree spun from stardust and wishes, adorned the petals' edges, each strand humming with a silent, watchful melody.
“How did you do that?” Zenia asked.
“It’s one of the alchemical techniques I learned during my teenage years on Earth.” He replied. “I can manipulate matter by centralising all my physical power to one point, bending the laws of physics and creating a protective barrier in my vicinity that no one can penetrate.”
“That’s cool.” Zenia replied.
“Zenia, do you know why giants are the enemies of the gods in Norse mythology?” King Norman asked.
“I don’t know, Dad. I don’t pay attention in history class.” Zenia replied, causing King Norman to chuckle.
"It's because wherever they go, they leave destruction." King Norman replied.
King Norman motioned for Zenia to sit on the throne next to him, specially curated just for her.
Zenia, draped in night woven into silk, held court atop a masterpiece of sculpted marble. The alabaster throne gleamed, catching slivers of neon light that passed through the alchemical barrier. As soon as she sat, the throne seemed to drink in an otherworldly aura of power radiating from the Princess. The throne synchronized with her.
Carved upon the throne's armrests, ancient runes writhed in platinum fire. Translated to English, the runes read, “Eagles should show their claws. Even when dying.” The ancient Nordic runes pulsated with Zenia's every breath, their arcane language whispering her lineage, her triumphs, and the echoes of a thousand ancestral voices. Zenia’s fists clenched. Ancestral energy from her father’s lineage rushed through her, giving her both a rush of power and a shocking realisation of just how grand her potential was.
Her brown eyes turned into bright platinum flames. Her veins glowed with a bright white colour visible from under her skin. Sparks of electricity emitted from her body, accentuating her glimmering platinum eyes. The sheer power she felt within her oscillated through her chest to her brain, giving her such an intense head rush that she began to laugh hysterically.
“It feels ravishing!” Zenia yelled in delight as sparks of white lightning poured out from her glowing platinum eyes like cosmic tears.
“It feels glorious!” She shouted as lightning engulfed her and shot towards the sky, immersing the city in terrifying thunder.
Eventually, all the electric power centralised back to her.
Zenia calmed down.
“What was that, dad?” Zenia asked as she shook her head and blinked numerous times, trying to sober up from the rush she had just gotten.
“It’s the spirit of the Titans flowing within you.” King Norman explained.
“Alright,” Zenia replied. “So, you were saying? About the Titans?
“From the dawn of time, Giants have always been the true enemies of Titans. The Jötnar have always been spirits of chaos.” King Norman continued his story. “The Jötnar and the Titans lived among the stars long before they fell to Earth. And when they fell to Earth, all hell broke loose. A war that lasted 4.6 billion years still goes on till this day.”
“In this universe, there are gods and monsters. Because of your lineage, you have a direct link to the gods. When the right time comes, you must eradicate the last of monsters. The most powerful of them all.” He added.
Zenia nodded sternly. Her look was that of determination.
“I understand.” She replied.
King Norman ran his hands through Zenia’s silky hair.
“You’re destined for greatness. My pretty Zenia.” He said to her. “An eagle must soar high, and never mix with sheep.”
Just then, a royal navigation vessel, known as the King’s Vessel, landed at the tip of the obelisk. It could navigate all terrains of space.
“Are we leaving?” Zenia asked.
“Of course. You didn’t think you’d spend all summer here, did you? I’m taking you back to Earth.” King Norman replied.
“What about my stuff?” Zenia asked.
“I ordered Fimafeng to pack them. They await us in the King’s Vessel.” King Norman said as he politely gestured for Zenia to walk ahead of him.
Zenia nodded.
From the luxurious seat of the King’s Vessel, Zenia watched Imperium sprawl beneath them like a luminous hexagram etched across the land. Its arterial roads blazed neon, pulsing with the city's lifeblood, while its towering obelisks, each dedicated to a forgotten Titan god, stabbed at the twilight sky like obsidian teeth. The six districts, each a kaleidoscope of architectural marvels and cultural cacophony, shimmered like facets of a gemstone: the Emerald District, a verdant oasis draped in bioluminescent flora, the Sapphire Quarter, a labyrinth of cobalt-glass towers reflecting the dying sun, the Onyx Labyrinth, a maze of black marble whispering forgotten secrets.
At the heart of the hexagram, the lotus hologram around the Zenith Spire transformed into the shape of an eye. The holographic eye in the middle of the city blinked, bringing the outline of the city to life.
At the heart of the hexagram, the lotus hologram around the Zenith Spire transformed into the shape of an eye. The holographic eye in the middle of the city blinked, bringing the outline of the city to life.
Looking down at the city’s hexagonal outline and blinking holographic eye, Zenia began to laugh. That caught King Norman by surprise. His blue eyes widened as he gave his daughter the side eye.
The smile on her face was youthful, fresh, and exhilarated. Hers was a laugh that belonged to the mountains, wild and untamed. It tumbled from her lips like a cascade of silver bells, echoing through the tall towers and majestic gargoyles below, a defiance against the encroaching darkness. Her eyes, the colour of a summer sky at dawn, blazed with exhilaration, flecked with the gold of a thousand fallen stars.
She stretched her arms wide, welcoming the chaos, the howling wind outside the King’s Vessel was a symphony in her ears. Her black silk dress, light as a raven's wing, swirled around her ankles, a dark counterpoint to her bright platinum hair. Zenia's laughter was the song of a warrior queen, born of fire and storm, who would dance on the edge of the abyss until her dying breath. She was a force of nature to be reckoned with. A beacon of hope for the future of The Cosmos.
“I don’t get it. Why is she laughing so much like that? Is she high?” King Norman thought to himself.
Zenia’s laugh turned to an elated chuckle. She lowered her head as she tried to control her laughter, and finally, she steadied.
“They’re all gonna die. Every last one of them.” She said.
King Norman’s concerned look turned into that of an endearing father when he heard those words coming out of his daughter’s mouth. At that moment, he felt truly proud to be her father. He focused his eyes back onto the sky runway, a contented look on his face.
“So, I see you've finally gotten the epiphany.” He said to her.
“Yes, Dad.” Zenia replied. “Omnicide or Genocide?”
“The latter.” King Norman said. “Are you sure you can do it?”
“I am perfectly confident in myself.” Zenia replied.
“What if she gets violent?” King Norman asked.
“If she masters her full power, she might cause me a little trouble.” Zenia replied.
“But would you lose?” He asked.
“Nah. I’d win.” Zenia said with determination.
King Norman smiled fondly at her and patted her head. “That’s my princess.” He said.
“Thanks dad.” Zenia replied with a charming smile, happy that she could make her father proud.
-The End-