After years of isolation in the desolate backroads, Nu finally arrived at the orbital plane of a new solar system.
The warmth from the Melting Lily had been completely exhausted, the blue glow around him fading entirely. Tiny cracks of hunger began to form across his surface again after so many years without food.
His six eyebrows arched in surprise as his gaze fell upon countless groups of enslaved sentient beings orbiting the remote solar system.
The beings displayed a bewildering variety of celestial and planetary forms, each bearing the hallmarks of life. Among them were humans, various animals and insects, sentient plants, and even peculiar sentient household objects. They clustered into distinct factions, dotting the solar system’s perimeter like scattered clouds.
Each faction of beings was marked by a distinct accessory, worn like a flag or badge, identifying the celestial master who controlled them.
The faction nearest to Nu’s orbital position wore five-fingered white gloves. Most of its members were four-limbed, wearing the gloves on one of their protruding limbs, while those without limbs had the gloves nailed to their bodies like grotesque piercings.
Nu kept his distance, watching the White Gloves with intense vigilance, unsure what to make of the many sentient beings clustered in the recesses of this solar system.
"I traveled all this way, enduring years of hunger, yet I still cannot escape these damn locusts!" Nu lamented, his voice tinged with a numb tiredness.
"No matter where I go in the universe, these parasites follow, soaking up all my opportunities and stealing away the mass that is so rightfully mine." His scowl deepened as his gaze swept over the crowded solar system. "Demortality..." Nu murmured, his thoughts drifting to the statuesque man. "Is there really no other path for me?"
His legacy screeched in protest, urging him to look beyond the perimeter. Nu's eyes shifted to the inner region of the remote solar system, where a celestial graveyard of lifeless space debris drifted aimlessly. At its center loomed an enormous orange-red star, its fiery surface pulsing weakly, as if nearing its end.
As Nu stared at the collapsing star, his legacy stirred, filling him with a profound, almost tangible sensation.
It felt like an apology for its failures, presenting the orange-red star as a gift to atone for its inability to aid him through his many hardships.
Nu felt his confidence return. If the massive star became his, it would grant him the power to exact vengeance on those who had wronged him and provide a foothold toward his great aspiration.
"This star will be my path forward! My ancestors... they weep, believing they let me down." Nu wiped tears from his eyes. "Father, Mother, Grandfather, Grandmother... I don’t need to hear your apologies. I never thought for a second that you let me down."
Nu's six faces gave cracked smiles.
"I will make great use of your gracious present."
But he didn’t grab his ancestor's gift immediately. In this unfamiliar place, caution prevailed. Though drawn to the enigmatic pull of the collapsing star, Nu chose to bide his time, keeping his distance and waiting for a more opportune moment to act.
Unbeknownst to Nu, some members of the White Gloves faction had noticed the flicker of his arrival. They began murmuring among themselves, their whispers laced with curiosity and suspicion about the unusual visitor.
A ceramic soup bowl, adorned with a human face on its bottom, leaned toward its hairy neighbor and whispered conspiratorially.
“Hey, Hairy, come look at this guy for me,” the bowl said, gesturing subtly toward Nu. “His actions are odd. His body is so frail and small, yet he emerged from those miserable backroads. That’s not something someone of his stature should be able to achieve. Do you recognize him from anywhere?”
The hairy neighbor, shaped like a human but covered entirely in dense hair, floated closer to the bowl while parting the strands that constantly veiled his eyes.
“Strange… I don’t see any faction accessory on him,” Hairy said, stroking his chin thoughtfully. “I heard about a planetary faction on the far side of the ninth ring whose slave accessories are small metal studs on their tongues. Maybe he’s one of theirs?”
The ceramic bowl furrowed its brows in doubt. “Metal Tongue faction? You really think they traveled all the way from the opposite side of the universe just for the collapse of this medium-sized sun?”
He muttered in contemplation before continuing, “Something about this doesn’t add up...”
A thought crossed Hairy’s mind, prompting him to lower his voice. “Bowl, what if he’s not part of a faction? Instead maybe he’s a traveling expert posing as a weaklings to bully people for fun.”
Bowl shot Hairy a glance as though it were the most idiotic thing he had ever heard, but he couldn’t find the words to dismiss the idea outright. The appearance of Nu was like an unsolvable mystery in Bowl's mind.
“That doesn’t seem right... but... maybe?” Bowl muttered, frustrated by his inability to dismiss the theory completely. The uncertainty of the situation was beginning to bother him. Reluctant to deal with it himself, he decided to pass the responsibility to Hairy.
“You seem to have a better read on this guy than I do,” Bowl said, shifting the burden. “Why don’t you go interact with him directly? See what he’s like and then report back.”
Hairy quickly agreed. In his mind, several theories and questions brewed. Once he finished preparing his probing questions, he left Bowl behind and glided through space toward Nu.
Nu squinted his six eyes as the hairy figure approached. Having already settled on his course of action, Nu radiated confidence and dominance, his contemptuous sneer fully on display as he addressed the unfamiliar being.
"Who are you, and why do you approach me?" Nu asked brashly.
Thrown off balance, Hairy could only respond politely. "Sir Cube, I am a representative of Celestial Master White Glove. We have long noticed you orbiting nearby. For what reason do you linger outside our outpost?" He hoped invoking his master's name would elicit some sort of fear.
Nu sneered. "I have no business with your pathetic self or your so-called master. I am here solely to claim what is rightfully mine." He gestured toward the star at the center of the solar system.
Hairy sucked in a sharp breath. "You’re here to compete for the star legacy?" His doubts about Nu’s identity vanished. "Sir Cube... no, Lord Cube, I didn’t realize such an esteemed expert would grace this dying solar system with their presence."
Without missing a beat, Hairy continued, "Since you’ve been eyeing our position in this orbital plane, I’ll ask my companions to clear space for you."
Nu gave a satisfied nod, feeling this reaction was only natural.
Hairy quickly returned to Bowl’s side, leaning in close he whispered.
"He’s the real deal."
Bowl glanced sideways at Nu, his expression skeptical. "Are you certain?"
"It’s either that, or he’s the stupidest, most arrogant pebble I’ve ever spoken to," Hairy snapped. "Either way, his claim to the star legacy sets off every alarm in my mind."
Hairy’s tone grew more serious. "The Galaxy Tyrant is not someone any sane being would dare to cross. This cube coveting his treasure will, at best, lead to a quick death for him. But I fear that if we don’t handle this carefully, he could end up dooming our entire faction along with himself."
"That’s why I told him we’d vacate our space as soon as possible. This star collapse is too important, and I’d feel much safer leaving this lunatic on his own so we can focus on our catalyzation."
Bowl frowned, carefully considering Hairy’s words. "He wants to grab the star legacy?" He shook his head in disbelief. "What a reckless moron."
"You made the right choice," Bowl said firmly. "Tell Charles to realign our orbit to a distant location, preferably at the opposite end of this solar system."
Casting one last glance at Nu, Bowl muttered under his breath, "Let’s give this ‘expert’ all the space he needs."
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Hairy went to speak with a giant hamster that was constantly running back and forth inside an exercise ball. After a brief conversation, the hamster began running in a single direction, causing the orbiting path of all the White Gloves to shift.
Nu watched the scene of the migrating White Gloves with a giddy smile.
Never in his life had anyone shown him this much respect.
Nearby factions noticed the fleeing White Gloves and, after sending representatives to investigate, quickly distanced themselves as well, leaving Nu dumbfounded by the changes.
As Nu adjusted his orbit, he noticed the factions making way for him, offering fearful and respectful looks as they left. It was as if they deemed themselves unworthy to remain in his presence.
For Nu, this was an intoxicating experience. In that moment, he became the tyrant he had always envisioned himself to be.
Like a child scaring away pigeons, Nu reveled in his newfound power. Caught up in his fun, he failed to notice the changes occurring at the center of the solar system.
The orange-red sun began fluctuating wildly, as though it could no longer sustain its massive shape.
Noticing the changes, the White Gloves halted their relocation and found the nearest open spot. "The time is right!" Bowl commanded the others. "Take out your equipment and prepare to intercept the incoming waves."
Here’s a revised version without em dashes, focusing on improved grammar, clarity, and readability:
In response to his commands, the members of the faction began taking out various items designed for physical fitness.
Soon, the entire exterior of the galaxy was lined with exotic and strange gym equipment such as yoga mats, barbells, dumbbells, cable machines, and other tools useful for intense workouts.
The orange-red sun could no longer sustain its massive shape. Deflating violently, it released heated gas in powerful gravitational waves. These waves heated the cold graveyard of celestial rock, though only the gravitational echoes of discarded time reached the perimeter.
Using their fast orbiting speeds in combination with their workouts, the faction members countered the waves of the star. Their equipment began to glow faintly with colorful lights as they worked against the increasing pressure.
Bowl pulled out a mesmerizing gold ceramic bowl and placed it between his teeth. Above him, a circular barbell glowed a greenish gold on the lip of his bowl. Tiny hands emerged from the sides of Bowl, grasping the bar and performing an overhead press motion.
Meanwhile, Hairy was positioned with a barbell on his back, performing squats. A tiny obsidian wig dangled from his mouth. Beside him, Charles ran furiously inside his exercise ball, moving faster than ever before, with a massive piece of ancient meat clutched in his teeth.
This scene played out across all the beings, creating an extraordinary display of hundreds of thousands working out against the gravitational waves from the collapsing star.
Nu stopped his antics and turned his attention to the physical activities the beings were performing.
"What the hell is this?" he muttered, but he did not dwell on his confusion for long. His focus was soon drawn to the continuous changes occurring within the star.
Larger gravitational waves radiated outward as an even hotter layer of gas emerged from the dying star. With every passing second, the effect intensified, and the graveyard of celestial rocks turned a molten red under the relentless barrages of heat.
Nu stared at the hot plasma with greed in his eyes. He licked his six dry lips with a hungry expression.
Like a starved animal eyeing a feast, he moved toward the molten celestial rock without restraint.
The outskirts were a significant distance away, but after a day's travel, he came across a tiny molten piece of dust. Leading with his mouth, he devoured the tasty fragment of mass.
Following a trail of crumbs, Nu slowly traversed his way deeper into the center of the star.
With each mouthful, his mass grew. The weathered cracks across his body healed completely, his stone skin became remarkably smooth, and his total mass ballooned. His molten core returned to the searing temperatures it had reached when he first emerged from the pocket of space.
Nu was ecstatic. After a month of feasting, he had grown to four times his initial size.
A great, villainous laugh erupted from him. "This is it! Years of patience have finally paid off. I knew it! I knew this remote solar system would be my turning point."
He gazed at the collapsing star with beaming eyes.
Its outbursts grew stronger, heating the graveyard around it into a seething plasma.
As the matter became plasma, changes began to ripple through the outskirts. The equipment the beings were using glowed intensely, and vortexes began forming within their centers, drawing in the hot plasma. Sweat beaded on their foreheads as their workouts intensified. Most were prepared for these changes, swapping out equipment or using treasures to help push through extra reps on their existing setups.
Nu’s feast of mass began to dry up. Seeing the startling effects of the beings’ workouts, he could only curse them loudly.
"Using your treasures, you think you've defeated this tyrant?" He glared at the beings working out, hate burning in his eyes. But as his gaze shifted to the dwindling mass, he could only swallow his defeat.
"Fine! Take it all. I didn’t want it anyway." Turning his attention to the collapsing star at the center, his expression grew expectant. "As long as the prize remains, your stolen mass means nothing to me."
Increasing his speed, Nu waded through the gravitational waves toward the star.
His body glowed molten red from the heat as he pressed against the relentless waves.
Unyielding and unwilling to give up, the journey was long and excruciating. He ignored his body’s cries to turn back, relying instead on sheer determination and madness to push forward.
For ten years, Nu traveled through the waves. Meanwhile, the surrounding factions continued their workouts. As the pressure of the waves increased, many pieces of their equipment failed, leading to injuries. Some members could not withstand the forces erupting within their bodies, collapsing under the strain.
"Bang!"
A member of the White Gloves Faction exploded with a terrifying sound. Bowl glanced at the fallen member with a sorrowful expression, letting out a deep sigh. He knew such sacrifices were inevitable., not dwelling too long in mourning he resumed his attention on his bicep curls.
The faction members on the outskirts thinned out in droves; less than half of those who had arrived remained. However, the risk proved worthwhile, as the survivors had created unmatched physiques through the tempering.
Nu had reverted to his plasma form, no longer resembling a cube. He continued to charge recklessly toward the star.
"This star is mine!" He loudly gurgled.
As he neared the sun’s photosphere, Nu’s body was wracked with constant pain, instinctively trying to pull away from the collapsing star. Yet his mind was resolute. Ignoring his body’s desperate protests, he pressed forward and entered the star's inner orbit.
The final traces of orange-red light vanished from the sun, replaced by a blinding white radiance that engulfed its entire surface.
With a resounding crackling boom, the transformation reached its conclusion. A final, fearsome wave of gravitational energy surged outward from the star’s center, rippling across the solar system.
Recognizing the completed collapse, the many factions sprang into action. Horns blared, and drums thundered, signaling an urgent retreat.
“Pack it up! We’re leaving immediately!” Bowl shouted to the surrounding White Gloves. “We’ll digest our gains back home. We must avoid getting caught in the upcoming battle for the star legacy at all costs.”
Led by Charles, they streaked away in a dazzling beam of light, heading toward a nearby asteroid road. Many other factions followed suit, eager to escape the impending conflict.
Nu noticed the commotion but paid little attention to it. His focus remained fixed on the dazzling white dwarf before him.
From the star emanated a warm, almost familial sensation, filling him with a profound sense of comfort and belonging.
“Legacy! This must be a complete inheritance!” Nu murmured, his six eyes gleaming with unrestrained greed. He drew a deep, shuddering breath. “Such a massive legacy... I must have it.”
Without Nu’s direct intervention, his legacy began to act on its own. Reneging on its earlier promise to secure the star for him, it emitted a blinding yellow light from his core.
These yellow lights shone even brighter than the white glow of the dwarf. From within this stark contrast of radiance, shadows began to take shape, growing and twisting across the star’s surface.
Four black figures emerged, moving in a ritualistic manner as they worked to brand the star with Nu’s ownership.
The white dwarf trembled and shook violently in response. The shadows contorted, forming chains that wrapped around the star’s surface, locking its legacy away from any potential challengers.
Nu observed the scene with a fanatical expression, his six faces beaming with reverence. He gave heartfelt praise to his ancestors, eagerly awaiting the final stage of the process.
Four loops of chains had already formed across the star, and only one final loop remained to cement his ownership.
As the last chain began to materialize, the shadowy figures let out an exasperated, otherworldly sound, as if straining under the immense effort.
The chain was too short. The shadowy structure began to flicker and distort, and the brilliant yellow light within Nu started to dim.
Nu’s six eyes widened in panic as he stared at the fading light.
“No!” he cried out, frantically tearing away pieces of his own mass to try and fuel the light, hoping to restore its brilliance. Instead, his actions only hastened its decline.
Anxiety turned into extreme horror as the chains snapped off one by one, falling apart in a cascade of shadowy fragments. The once-radiant light of his legacy dulled to a faint yellow hum.
“How can this be?” Nu whispered, his voice trembling with despair. Hopeless and distraught, he couldn’t fathom the loss of the star that now stood just out of his reach. The crushing reality of his failure pressed down on him.
His frantic self-sacrifice had reduced his mass to its original size, undoing all his hard-earned gains. His legacy had failed him, and the arduous journey to this remote solar system now seemed utterly futile.
Before he could fully process his grief, a sudden, jarring sensation tore him from his thoughts. Something was slicing through the fabric of space-time itself, cutting both Nu and the star legacy away from the solar system.
With a violent lurch, Nu was hurled through a space-time wormhole, tumbling helplessly before emerging in an unfamiliar realm that served as the final resting place for countless star legacies.
As Nu regained his bearings, his gaze fell upon a sight that left him breathless, his throat tightening in fear.
Before him loomed an unfathomable being, a titan whose colossal form spanned multiple galaxies. The being sat on an enormous exercise bench, gripping a barbell that stretched across millions of lightyears. Clusters of galaxies served as its impossibly massive weights.
Each repetition of the barbell press took a hundred years to complete, the motion slow and deliberate, shaking the very fabric of reality with every lift.
Nu gawked at the scene in stunned silence, helplessly awaiting his inevitable demise.