Sophia stood on the threshold of the docking bay of the Han warship, the cold metal beneath her bare feet grounding her in the present moment as she prepared for the journey ahead. The ship buzzed with activity around her, crew members moving efficiently as they completed the final resupply of her vessel. She was clad only in her robe, the fabric a comforting embrace against her polymorphed skin. Despite the vastness of the challenge that lay ahead, she felt a strange calm. The journey through the Eve galaxy had been almost effortless after she had wiped out half of it with the Void Bomb, allowing the Han to push their advantage.
The wormhole loomed before her, a swirling vortex of cosmic energy, its chaotic motion warping the very fabric of space around it. The stars beyond were distorted, their light bending and twisting in a mesmerizing dance that beckoned her forward, yet she remained unconcerned, focused solely on the path that would take her closer to home.
It was the third wormhole she would traverse on her long journey back to the Caldera Galaxy, each passage drawing her closer to the world she had once called home. The immense power of the wormhole was palpable, its gravitational pull tugging at the edges of her consciousness, reminding her of the sheer magnitude of what lay ahead. The Han warship had been a temporary sanctuary, providing her with one last opportunity to gather her strength and supplies before she embarked on the final leg of her journey.
As the last of the supplies were loaded onto her newly gifted ship, a parting gift from a grateful Han Empire and Prince Qu, Sophia took a moment to appreciate the vessel. The twins, Yedil and Bedil, worked with swift precision, securing the final crates and double-checking everything for her journey. Around them, the crew of the Hemlock, Jim’s vessel, offered respectful nods, fully aware of the significance of her mission and the legacy she carried. Sophia returned their gestures with a calm acknowledgment, her thoughts already drifting to the vast expanse of space that awaited her.
With a deep breath, Sophia felt the cool air fill her lungs, steadying her for what was to come. This wasn’t just another journey; it was the beginning of a new chapter, a passage through the unknown that would test her strength and resolve. The Hemlock, Jim’s ship, hummed with its familiar quiet energy nearby. But now, it was time to part ways. Jim, Qu, and their crew would remain with the Han, continuing their own paths, while Sophia would embark on this journey alone in her new ship. As the twins finished their work, their synchronized movements reflecting years of experience, Sophia knew that everything was ready.
Her gaze remained fixed on the swirling vortex, the colors and shadows playing across her face in a kaleidoscope of light. She could feel the tension building in her muscles, a familiar mix of anticipation and resolve. This was the moment before the storm, the calm before she would plunge into the chaos of the wormhole and whatever awaited her on the other side.
Beside her, Jim and Qu watched her with a mixture of admiration and concern. The battle against Eve’s swarm had left its mark on all of them, but now, with Eve defeated—at least in this galaxy—their paths were diverging.
Jim broke the silence, his usual cocky grin tinged with genuine respect. “You really set us up for life, Sophia. The Han Empire owes you everything. Hell, I owe you everything. That Void Bomb... I still can’t believe you pulled it off.”
Sophia smirked, a touch of amusement playing at the corners of her lips. “Don’t think I’m letting you off the hook that easily, Jim. I’m still looking forward to another meal at one of those fancy restaurants, and it’s going to be on your tab—again. So you better keep it open.”
Qu, his tendrils glowing brightly with barely contained excitement, bowed his head in gratitude. “Sophia, you’ve done more than we could have ever asked. The galaxy will remember your name, and the Han will rise stronger because of you. With this victory, my path to the throne is all but secured. My brother won’t stand a chance after this—I'll be seen as a hero, thanks to you. But don’t worry, I’ll make sure you’re remembered as the true savior of the Han.”
Sophia chuckled, shaking her head. “Keep the praise for yourself, Qu. I won’t need any of it. I did what I had to because it was the only way to clear a path home. But don’t get too comfortable—I’m not done yet. If all goes as planned, Eve will be taken care of for good, and you can enjoy your throne without worrying about any more swarms.”
Jim’s grin widened, his eyes glinting with something akin to admiration, but there was something else in his gaze, too—something softer, edged with a mix of casual flirtation and genuine gratitude. “And here I thought I was the slick one who always had a plan. Guess I was wrong. Looks like you’ve been outmaneuvering me this whole time. Maybe you’re the one who’s always a step ahead.”
Sophia’s smile faded slightly as she looked toward the wormhole. “Yeah, I’ve got a plan. This is just the first step on a long journey. I’ve still got another Void Bomb to deliver, and a lot more obstacles to clear before I get back to Caldera.”
She shifted the small, unassuming device under her arm—the second Void Bomb, a twin to the one she had already unleashed. It hummed softly, its deadly power contained within a shell no larger than a car battery. But Sophia knew what it was capable of, and the thought of using it again made her feel both powerful and uneasy.
Jim nodded, his tone serious. “Whatever happens next, you’ve got this. But just know, if you ever give up on going home, you’ll always have a place here. The Han might owe you, but so do I.”
He let his eyes linger on her, his usual smirk softened by a hint of sincerity. “And, I mean, if I’m being honest, it’s not just the heroics I’ll miss. You know you’ve got a way of making even a cold, empty galaxy feel… well, a little less cold. And you don’t hear me complainin’ about the view, either.” His eyes swept over her robe, the fabric clinging to her form in a way that was as practical as it was revealing.
Sophia caught the glance, and for once, she didn’t bristle at it. She knew her robe was skimpy, leaving little to the imagination, but in this moment, she found she didn’t care much. In fact, there was a part of her that appreciated the bastard’s blunt honesty. Jim’s leering eyes, usually a source of annoyance, seemed almost endearing now, a reminder of the simpler, more human connections she had once taken for granted.
She let out a soft, resigned chuckle, shaking her head at him. “You know, Jericho, I might actually miss you. You’re a bastard, but at least you’re honest about it. Just… don’t go getting yourself killed while I’m gone. The galaxy still needs someone like you—someone who can flirt with death and laugh in its face.”
Jim’s grin widened, his eyes twinkling with that familiar mix of bravado and charm. “Jericho, huh? You’ve really got me figured out, haven’t you? Here I was thinking I was the smooth talker, keeping track of all the details, and it turns out you’re the one running the game. Gotta say, I didn’t see that coming. But hey, I’ll stick around. After all, someone’s gotta be here when you get back. Maybe I’ll even get lucky enough to see you in that robe again… or better yet, out of it.” He winked, the tease lighthearted but laced with his signature cheek.
Qu, ever the diplomat and unable to hold back his enthusiasm, practically beamed. His tendrils glowed with a brighter, excited energy as he added, “Sophia, you’ve done more than anyone could’ve asked! The galaxy will sing songs of this victory! Thanks to you, the Hive is all but crushed, and the Han? We’re poised to rise higher than ever! We owe you everything, and we won’t forget it! The throne is practically mine now, but it’ll be your name they cheer. You’re a hero, and nothing’s gonna change that!”
His joy was infectious, almost bouncing on his feet as he spoke, clearly thrilled by the path laid before him.
Sophia looked at them both, her expression softening for a brief moment. “Thanks, both of you. But I’ve got to go home. The path ahead... it’s not one I can take anyone else down. Just make sure you two stay alive long enough to enjoy the empire you’re building.”
As she turned to leave, she allowed herself a small smile, one that held a trace of genuine affection. For all his rough edges and unashamed ogling, Jim—Jericho—had a way of making her feel a little more human, even in the midst of all the chaos. And as much as she hated to admit it, she knew she’d miss that, too.
With that, she stepped away from the dock and toward her small fighter. The ramp lowered, and she paused, looking back at Jim and Qu one last time. “Don’t wait up for me,” she said, her voice carrying a note of finality.
Jim gave her a mock salute, his grin returning. “Wouldn’t dream of it. Good luck, Sophia.”
Qu’s tendrils glowed brighter as he bowed deeply. “May the stars guide you safely home, Sophia.”
Sophia nodded and ascended the ramp, the door closing behind her with a soft hiss. She settled into the pilot’s seat, her fingers dancing over the controls with practiced ease. As the ship lifted off, she took one last look at the Hemlock through the viewport. The stars stretched between them, the wormhole’s pull already beginning to tug at her ship.
A quiet smile crossed her lips as she thought of the two she was leaving behind. They were set for life now, with the Han Empire poised to reclaim its strength. Jim would likely rise to power, and Qu would continue his ascent, but that wasn’t her concern anymore. Her thoughts were already shifting to the journey ahead—the trials, the battles, and the obstacles that still lay between her and the Caldera Galaxy.
She punched the throttle, her ship hurtling toward the wormhole. The swirling energy enveloped her, pulling her into the next leg of her journey. As the ship transitioned into the chaotic passage, Sophia felt the familiar rush of adrenaline mixed with a deep, gnawing anticipation. This was just the beginning of a long and perilous journey home.
When she emerged from the wormhole into the Eve galaxy, the stars appeared distant and cold—a galaxy unfamiliar to her, filled with the dread she had expected. The ship’s sensors immediately lit up with warnings, the swarm of the Eve Hive Mind already advancing toward her position.
Sophia’s breath steadied as she prepared to unleash the Void Bomb. It was a weapon of last resort, but there was no hesitation in her mind. If she didn’t clear this path, there would be no getting home. Standing at the helm, she activated the ship’s shields, creating a protective barrier around herself and the wormhole she had just passed through. The shield shimmered, a fragile-looking yet potent defense against the oncoming swarm.
She wasn’t done. Sophia knew the intensity of what was coming, and a simple shield wouldn’t suffice. She began chanting, her voice low and powerful, resonating through the small ship. “Hav rus asz,” she intoned, her words imbued with ancient magic. The shields around the ship and the wormhole strengthened, glowing with a fierce energy that pulsed in rhythm with her chant. The very air seemed to vibrate with the power she was channeling, the protective barrier becoming nearly impenetrable.
Her voice filled the cabin as she began the next incantation, her words carrying the weight of the destruction she was about to unleash. “Adsa van lu cals mas cas varu nala mara…” The ancient language resonated through the ship, each syllable unlocking the Void Bomb’s terrifying potential.
The bomb pulsed with ominous energy, the light in the cabin dimming as it drew in power. Sophia’s heart beat in sync with the pulses, the anticipation building as the moment of release approached. With a final, resounding word, she triggered the bomb.
The explosion was catastrophic. A wave of nothingness spread outward, consuming the swarm and obliterating everything in its path. Stars blinked out of existence, planets disintegrated, and the Eve Hive Mind was torn apart, leaving behind an expanse of void. The power of the Void Bomb had done its job—there was now nothing between her and the core of the galaxy, just empty space.
Sophia exhaled slowly, the weight of what she had done pressing down on her. She set the ship to autopilot, programming it to head toward the core of the galaxy and the heart of the Eve Hive Mind. Despite the advanced speed of the Han ship, it would take weeks of faster-than-light travel to reach her destination.
With the ship’s course set, Sophia left the helm, her steps heavy as she made her way to her quarters. The ship was small—barely the size of a camper, a stark reminder of the time she had spent on Earth separated from Mike. That year had felt like an eternity, the loneliness gnawing at her every moment, making the orphanage she had known seem like paradise in comparison. The ship was far more advanced and comfortable than that old camper, but the small, confined space still sent a chill down her spine, echoing those memories of isolation.
She reached her quarters, which, like the rest of the ship, were compact and efficient. The bed was narrow, just enough space for someone of her stature—barely over five feet tall—but it was enough. The walls were lined with control panels and screens displaying various data, all necessary for her journey. Despite the cramped quarters, it felt like a fortress, her own little world where she could prepare for the battles ahead.
Sophia poured herself a generous drink, taking a slow sip as the warmth of the rum spread through her. With time to kill, she moved toward the bath, sighing as she eyed the small tub. It wasn't much, but it would work.
She undid her robe, letting it fall to the floor, and stepped into the bath. The water, though cramped, instantly soothed her tired muscles. As the heat seeped into her skin, she leaned back, closing her eyes and allowing herself a rare moment of peace.
The ship hummed softly around her, but the only thing that mattered was the warmth of the water and the comforting burn of the rum. For the first time in a while, Sophia let her mind drift, the weight of her responsibilities fading into the background.
This small, quiet moment was hers, a brief respite before the next battle. And for now, that was enough.
As the days turned into weeks, Sophia found a rhythm within the vast emptiness that surrounded her. The ship moved steadily forward, propelled by the remnants of the energy from the Void Bomb that had torn through the Eve galaxy. Each day felt both endless and fleeting, the silence of space a constant companion as she pressed on toward the Hive's core.
The time passed in a blur, the ship’s quiet hum and the distant stars outside her only markers of the passing hours. The galaxy, once teeming with life and danger, now felt eerily calm, a testament to the destruction she had wrought. The Han Empire had taken full advantage of the void she had created, their forces pushing forward with renewed strength, but Sophia’s mind was far from their conquests. She drifted through her days aboard Little Val, the small ship that had become her refuge. Its cozy spaces—a kitchen just large enough for a simple meal, an entertainment system offering fleeting distractions, and a bath where she could momentarily forget the weight of her journey—provided a semblance of peace in an unforgiving galaxy.
But for now, wrapped in the warmth of the bath and the slight haze of the rum, Sophia let herself simply be, floating in the small, intimate space she had carved out for herself in a galaxy that seemed determined to take everything away. The moments of calm were few, and she clung to them as the ship carried her closer to her final confrontation.
And then, as if waking from a long slumber, she found herself in the pilot’s seat of Little Val once more. The cold metal beneath her feet grounded her as she stared out through the viewport into the swirling chaos of space. She had reached the heart of the Hive—the final confrontation awaited her, and there was no turning back now.
The Hive’s core loomed before her, a monstrous bio-organic entity pulsating with the life force of trillions. It was as vast as a star, its grotesque form a nightmarish monument to its insatiable hunger. As Sophia drew closer, she realized the horrifying secret of Eve—how all of this could be one creature. It had not only been consuming the flesh of those it absorbed but also their very souls, binding them into its twisted existence.
The truth struck her with a sickening clarity. She knew how to kill it permanently, to ensure that Eve could never rise again. But the method required her to go hands-on, to bend her morality yet again, and use necromancy in its darkest form. The thought repulsed her—drawing power from the souls of the damned was an abomination she had sworn to leave behind. Yet, the possibility of ending Eve forever, of freeing those tortured souls, was a temptation too great to pass up.
Sophia felt a deep disgust welling within her, not just at the creature before her, but at the grim task she knew she must undertake. This would be no clean victory; it would stain her soul even further. But the thought of putting an end to Eve, of ensuring this nightmare could never spread again, outweighed the revulsion she felt. Gritting her teeth, she steeled herself for what she had to do. She would plunge into the heart of darkness one last time, using the very power she despised to bring an end to this terror once and for all.
She carefully set the ship’s autopilot and activated the strongest shields she could muster, encasing Little Val in a protective barrier that would keep it safe from the devastation she was about to unleash. With a final, resolute glance at the ship that had carried her this far, she steeled herself for the battle ahead.
Leaving the safety of Little Val, Sophia stepped into the infinite void of space, her bare feet leaving behind the cool metal of the ship. As she moved through the vacuum, her body began to expand, her form shifting and growing as she tapped into the ancient reserves of magic within her. The transformation was intense, her bones stretching and cracking, muscles bulging with newfound power. Her crimson and blue scales shimmered into existence, each scale glistening like a precious gem as her skin turned into the formidable armor of a dragon.
As her body grew to the size of a sun, her robe was drawn into her interdimensional pocket. With nothing beneath it, the familiar comfort of clothing was replaced by the raw, elemental power of her true form. Her dragon body, glowing with the energy of countless stars, radiated an aura that pulsed with the sheer force of her presence. Her fiery mane of red and blue crackled with the energy coursing through her, transforming her into a living celestial being, fully prepared for the ultimate confrontation.
Before her stood Eve, the heart of the Hive—a colossal bio-organic monstrosity teeming with the life force of trillions. It spanned the void like a dark star, its horrifying form a testament to its endless greed. Necromantic tendrils writhed around its massive bulk, each pulsating with the stolen essence of countless souls, their tortured energy fueling the abomination. The sheer malevolence of it sent a chill through Sophia, evoking memories of the soul-consuming horrors she had once faced on Caldera—though this creature dwarfed them all in scale.
Eve wasn’t just a hive mind; it was an unfathomable necromancer, feeding on the souls it consumed, erasing their identities and condemning them to an eternal nightmare. This realization ignited a fierce anger within Sophia. She faced an entity that thrived on the very suffering she had been striving to overcome, a dark mirror of the sins she was desperately trying to atone for.
The battle began with a clash that reverberated through the fabric of space. Sophia’s massive wings propelled her forward with unimaginable force, her claws slicing through the void as she launched herself at Eve. Her talons dug deep into the bio-organic flesh, tearing through the layers of pulsating tissue. Blood-like ichor sprayed into the void, crystallizing in the freezing temperatures of space, creating a grotesque mist around them. Eve retaliated with a deafening roar, sending tendrils of necromantic energy lashing out to ensnare Sophia.
The tendrils wrapped around her limbs, attempting to crush her with their sheer force, but Sophia was relentless. With a roar that echoed across the galaxy, she unleashed a torrent of blue-white flames, incinerating the tendrils before they could tighten their grip. She bit down on one of Eve’s main arteries, her jaws clamping with enough force to shatter mountains, her teeth piercing through the thick, necrotic shell of the Hive’s core. Ichor gushed out, dark and foul, as Eve writhed in agony.
Eve fought back with all its might, the souls it had consumed shrieking in Sophia’s mind, trying to break her resolve. Each attack resonated with the agony of the countless beings trapped within Eve, their cries a cacophony of torment that threatened to overwhelm her. But Sophia’s determination was unyielding. She had faced monsters before, but none as powerful or as vile as this.
Sophia could feel Eve’s necromantic influence trying to seep into her, to corrupt her own power and twist it into something darker. The souls it had absorbed clawed at her psyche, their whispers a constant reminder of the suffering they endured. But Sophia pushed through the pain and the horror, her fury only growing with each passing moment. She was no stranger to the darkness of necromancy, and she would not allow Eve to use it against her.
With a final, ferocious surge of power, Sophia decided to end it. She summoned the darkest of her necromantic abilities, her voice a powerful incantation, “Colv rana yu…” The ancient words echoed through the void, resonating with the souls trapped within Eve. The incantation wrapped around Eve’s core like chains, binding its essence, drawing it out from the depths of its monstrous body.
Eve roared in desperation, its tendrils flailing wildly as it tried to resist, but Sophia’s will was stronger. Her claws dug deep, piercing through the very heart of the creature, and with a final, brutal pull, she ripped Eve’s soul from its massive body. The act sent a cataclysmic shockwave through space, tearing through the galaxy and obliterating everything in its path. The core’s death throes were violent and chaotic, its massive form disintegrating, collapsing into nothingness as the energy of trillions of souls was released in a blinding explosion.
The galaxy, once teeming with Eve’s drones, fell silent. The connection that had bound them to the Hive mind was severed, and every drone across multiple galaxies went dark forever. The light of the explosion faded, leaving only the distant stars and the vast emptiness of space.
Exhausted but victorious, Sophia allowed her form to revert to its normal size. The adrenaline of battle drained from her body, leaving her weary and nearly depleted of energy. Her red and blue scales shimmered one last time before fading back to her human form. Blood dripped from her wounds, staining her skin, but the pain was nothing compared to the relief of victory. She floated amidst the wreckage of the Hive, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she surveyed the devastation. The souls she had freed were gone, their energy dispersed into the universe, but the weight of what she had done lingered heavily on her shoulders.
With a final, tired glance at the quiet expanse where Eve had once loomed, Sophia made her way back to Little Val. The ship, still encased in its protective shield, awaited her return. She entered the cockpit, her body trembling from the strain of battle, and deactivated the shields. As she settled back into the pilot’s seat, the cold, metallic touch of the controls beneath her fingers was a stark reminder of the reality she had returned to.
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Sophia allowed herself a moment of reflection, her gaze lingering on the now-quiet void outside the viewport. She had won, but the victory felt hollow. The cost had been immense, the souls she had released forever etched into her memory. The journey was far from over, but for now, she could only move forward, carrying the weight of her actions with her as she continued on her path through the stars.
The battle was over, and the Hive was no more. Sophia had won, but the cost was heavy. With a deep, steadying breath, she prepared Little Val for the journey ahead, knowing that while this fight was done, her journey was far from over.
The soul she had torn from the Hive was immense, almost overwhelming. The voices of countless beings whispered in her mind, their cries echoing through her thoughts. The power was tempting, but Sophia knew she couldn’t keep it. It wasn’t hers to wield.
Performing a complex ritual, she began to break the Hive’s soul apart. The energy within fought against her, chaotic and wild, but she pressed on, her hands moving in intricate patterns as she chanted the incantations. Slowly, the soul began to fragment, breaking apart into its component parts. Trillions of souls were released, their energy dispersing into the void like a cascade of stars.
"Where they go, I don’t know," she murmured, her voice tinged with sadness. "Maybe they’ll find eternal paradise, or maybe they’ll be reborn. But I can't let them remain trapped in that nightmare. Whatever fate awaits them, it’s out of my hands now."
As the last of the souls drifted away, Sophia felt a strange emptiness settle over her. The galaxy was quiet once more, the stars distant and cold. She had won, but the victory tasted bitter. The battle was over, but the scars it left would remain with her for a long time. I don’t know where the dead go or what the afterlife really is, but taking that from innocent souls was wrong, she thought. I hope I did the right thing, using necromancy for good this time to free these souls. Maybe they’ll have a chance in their second life.
The ship, now on autopilot, carried her toward the next wormhole. Sophia allowed herself to relax, sinking into the pilot’s chair, her body aching from the strain of battle. The stars outside seemed indifferent, their cold light offering no comfort, but in this moment, she allowed herself a small reprieve.
It wasn’t over yet. The journey home was still long, and more challenges awaited her. But for now, she could rest. For now, she had earned a moment of peace amidst the void.
As Little Val glided silently through the vastness of space, Sophia's thoughts wandered to the long journey she had undertaken since defeating Eve. It had been over a year since that fateful battle, and in that time, she had traversed multiple galaxies, encountering countless civilizations—none of them human. The alien species she had encountered were diverse, strange, and often hostile, but none had the familiarity of the humans she once knew. The absence of humanity had weighed on her, a constant reminder of how far she had come from her origins.
That changed suddenly when alarms blared, snapping her out of her reverie. Her hands instinctively flew to the controls, and the displays lit up with hostile signatures. A fleet of space pirates had emerged from the shadow of a nearby asteroid field, their ships closing in fast. They had been lying in wait, hoping to catch a lone traveler off guard.
Sophia's eyes narrowed as she took in the scene. Pirates were nothing new to her, but there was something about this fleet that piqued her curiosity. The ships, though worn and battle-scarred, bore markings and designs that were unmistakably human. Her heart skipped a beat—humans, after all this time. The realization hit her with an unexpected pang of emotion, but she quickly steeled herself. These were not allies; they were attackers.
Her jaw tightened as she prepared for the inevitable fight. There was no hesitation, no fear—just the cold, calculated resolve of someone who had faced far worse. The pirates were well-armed and coordinated, but Sophia knew how to handle them. Little Val, though small, was built for situations like this.
The first shots were fired, and Sophia pushed the ship into a steep dive, narrowly avoiding the barrage of laser fire. The pirates were relentless, their ships darting in and out of the asteroid field as they tried to corner her. But Sophia was a seasoned pilot, her reflexes sharp and her mind focused.
She spun the ship through the chaotic field of rocks and debris, using the asteroids as cover while she returned fire. The targeting systems locked onto the nearest pirate vessel, and with a precise squeeze of the trigger, she unleashed a volley of energy blasts. The pirate ship erupted in a fiery explosion, its wreckage scattering across space.
Sophia didn’t stop. Another pirate ship swooped in, firing rapidly. Little Val's shields flickered under the assault, but Sophia kept her cool, weaving through the asteroid field with practiced ease. The pirates were skilled, but they were no match for her.
One by one, she picked them off, each explosion lighting up the dark void of space. The battle was intense, the strain on her ship and her body immense, but she didn’t falter. She couldn’t afford to.
The last pirate ship was larger and more heavily armed than the others. It charged at her with reckless abandon, its cannons glowing as they prepared to fire. Sophia pushed Little Val into a sharp roll, dodging the blast by a hair’s breadth. The ship rattled from the force, but Sophia’s hands were steady on the controls.
She circled around, lining up the shot, and fired. The blasts tore through the pirate ship’s shields, ripping into its hull. The vessel shuddered, and with one final shot, it exploded, the pieces scattering into the void.
Sophia breathed heavily, the adrenaline still coursing through her veins. The remnants of the pirate fleet drifted lifelessly through space, a silent testament to her skill and determination. Little Val was battered but intact, and she wasted no time in moving on. There were no celebrations, no time to dwell on the victory. The galaxy had grown quiet once more, but Sophia knew better than to let her guard down.
As Sophia moved away from the asteroid field, her sensors picked up a distress signal from one of the ships she had downed. It was damaged but still had life support. The signal was weak, barely a whisper, but it caught her attention. The message was garbled, fragmented, but the urgency was unmistakable. A voice, desperate and pleading, crackled through the communication system.
"Please… don’t kill me… I have credits! No, um… wait… you're human too, aren’t you? I… I can tell you where they are… where more of us are!"
Sophia’s brow furrowed as she listened to the frightened voice. It belonged to a pirate, no doubt one of the last survivors of the ambush she had just fought off. But something in the voice caught her attention—the fear, the desperation, and the fact that it was unmistakably human. This wasn’t just a coward begging for his life; there was something deeper, a connection she hadn’t felt in what seemed like an eternity. After so long without encountering another human, here was one, albeit a pirate. The realization tugged at something within her, stirring emotions she had buried.
She opened a communication channel, her voice cold and commanding. "You have thirty seconds to convince me why I shouldn’t finish what I started."
The voice trembled as it responded, the desperation palpable. "There’s a planet… primitive… they have no technology… but they’re dying. A virus… it’s killing them all. We were going to strip the planet, take what we could, but then the virus hit. I… I escaped, but I couldn’t leave them. I couldn’t…"
Sophia’s grip on the controls tightened. "And you’re telling me this because?"
"Because… we’re the last of our kind in this galaxy! The virus… it’s wiped out nearly all of us. This planet, it was safe for a while because they had no tech. That kept them hidden from the plague, but then… then we came. We didn’t know we were carrying it. We thought we could take what we needed and leave, but instead… we brought the virus to them. They’re dying because of us. Because of me."
Sophia’s suspicion deepened, but the man’s words struck a chord. "And now you feel guilty?" she asked, her voice hard.
"Yes… I didn’t want this life. I didn’t want any of this, but what choice did I have? I became a pirate to survive, to find something, anything, that could help save the last of us. If you’re really human, you understand, right? I can’t let them all die. If you save them, I’ll give you the coordinates. Just… just don’t kill me. I beg you."
Sophia’s mind raced. A primitive planet with a dying population, ravaged by a virus… It was the kind of situation she couldn’t ignore. But could she trust a pirate? Could she trust a human she had never met before, who had chosen a life of crime in the far reaches of space? The weight of their shared humanity pressed on her, complicating the decision. She couldn’t afford to take chances, but the possibility that this pirate was telling the truth, that he was trying to save the last remnants of their species in this galaxy, was something she couldn’t ignore.
Sophia hesitated for a moment, then made her decision. "Send me the coordinates," she commanded, her voice firm but edged with a hint of doubt.
There was a brief pause, then a series of numbers flashed on her display. Sophia’s eyes scanned the data, confirming the location. It was in a nearby system, one she hadn’t planned to visit.
"Thank you…" the voice whispered, relief flooding his tone. "I’m leaving now… I won’t bother you again. I swear."
Sophia didn’t respond immediately, her thoughts a whirl of suspicion and reluctant empathy. His ship was damaged but still capable of flight, and now he was fleeing the scene. He could be lying, but if there was even a small chance he was telling the truth… if there were still humans out there, dying from a plague, she couldn’t turn her back on them. Not after everything she had seen, everything she had lost.
"Don’t make me regret this," she finally said, her tone colder than before, masking the flicker of hope in her heart. With that, she cut the communication and set a new course, her mind already focused on the task ahead.
As Little Val’s engines roared to life, propelling her toward the coordinates, Sophia couldn’t shake the feeling that she was stepping into something far more complicated than she had anticipated. But for the first time in a long while, she allowed herself to hope that maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t as alone as she thought.
Guided by the directions of the human pirate, Sophia descended toward the planet, her mind swirling with a mixture of curiosity and a cautious sense of hope. The pirate had been the first human she had encountered in over a year, a fleeting reminder of the world she had left behind. Now, the idea that there could be an entire planet of humans, living much as they had on Caldera thousands of years ago, filled her with a bittersweet longing. If a human colony was this close to Caldera, it was a sign that she was getting closer to home, even if the journey still stretched on before her.
As Little Val pierced through the planet's atmosphere, Sophia's gaze swept over the landscape below—a world that had once thrived but now lay in ruins, ravaged by a devastating plague. Yet, despite their primitive state, the sight of these humans—resilient and enduring—stirred something deep within her. As she scanned the terrain, her eyes caught on something that made her breath hitch—a massive mountain-sized statue of a dragon, its faded paint still revealing streaks of red and blue. It was not just any dragon; it was the form she had adopted from time to time, the red and blue dragon that had once been known as Valicar. The sheer scale of the statue, along with the unmistakable colors, left no doubt that these people not only remembered but revered the very being she had once embodied. They were living echoes of a world she had fought so hard to protect, and now, it was clear that the legacy of Valicar had been etched into their very mountains, a testament to the enduring power of their belief.
Curious about their origins, Sophia activated the ship's scanners, probing deeper into the planet's history. The advanced technology of Little Val quickly pieced together a story that both surprised and saddened her. This world, once a thriving colony, had originated from Caldera. Long ago, their ancestors had ventured into the stars, seeking to expand their reach across the galaxy. But over time, cut off from their homeworld and facing numerous challenges, they had lost their advanced technology, reverting to a simpler, more sustainable way of life.
Yet, even in the absence of their once-great civilization, the people of this planet had preserved the legends of their origins. Stories of Valicar, the mighty hero, had been passed down through generations, evolving into the fabric of their culture. The scanners revealed statues and monuments dedicated to her, standing tall in the remnants of what had once been grand cities. The sight of these statues, weathered by time but still standing strong, brought a lump to Sophia's throat.
They remember…Sophia thought, her heart aching with a mix of pride and sorrow. Even after all this time, they still remember.
The statues depicted her in various forms, some as a fierce warrior with dragon wings unfurled, others as a protector with a serene expression, cradling a child or standing watch over a village. It was clear that the memory of Valicar had been cherished, even revered, by these people, who had built their culture around the stories of their heroic ancestors.
Sophia felt a deep connection to them, a sense of responsibility she couldn’t ignore. I can’t let them fade away, not after everything they’ve endured, she resolved, her determination hardening. They’ve kept the spirit of Caldera alive, and now, it’s my turn to protect them.
With that, she guided Little Val to a landing, her mind already turning to how she could help these people reclaim not just their lives, but their rightful place among the stars.
Feeling a connection to this world and its people, Sophia decided to embrace the role they would recognize from their legends. She shed her robe, opting instead for the armor she had worn in those ancient days—though it was not the original set, but a carefully crafted replica. The armor was striking, with red and blue hues interwoven with gold trim, a vivid reflection of the power she once wielded. The design was revealing, exposing her navel, a nod to the style she had favored in those days. She wore sandals similar to the ones that had once granted her flight, along with braces on each arm. While this set of armor lacked the enchanted properties of the original, it was a cosmetic choice—one meant to invoke the image of the hero they revered.
Sophia allowed her wings to spread out behind her, their impressive span adding to the aura of power that surrounded her. Her horns curled elegantly, and her tail swayed with the confidence of a being who knew her strength. As she stepped out of Little Val and onto the ground, she felt the eyes of the people upon her, their gazes filled with hope and fear. For once, she embraced their reverence, understanding that in this moment, they needed to see her as something more—something divine.
As she walked through the heart of one of the largest cities, the devastation around her was palpable. The air was thick with the scent of decay, and the people, weakened by the plague, huddled in their crude shelters, their eyes filled with despair. At first, they barely noticed her arrival, but as she drew closer, the whispers began to spread—could it truly be Valicar, returned to save them? The hero from their ancient legends, come to deliver them from this darkness?
The disbelief in their eyes quickly gave way to reverence. One by one, they fell to their knees, praying to the savior they believed had come to rescue them. Sophia’s heart ached at the sight. These were people who had lost everything, reduced to shadows of their former selves, yet they still clung to stories of hope, to the belief that someone would come to save them. She couldn’t let them down.
With a deep breath, Sophia drew upon the vast reserves of power within her. The words of the ancient incantation, “Vaslea,” flowed from her lips, resonating with a deep, otherworldly energy. As she spoke, golden light began to emanate from her, spreading outwards like a wave, enveloping the entire planet. The light was warm and soothing, its touch gentle yet unstoppable as it swept across the land, eradicating the plague and breathing life back into the desolate world.
The effect was immediate and awe-inspiring. Vegetation began to bloom where there had been only barren earth, and the air, once thick with sickness, cleared as the healing magic worked its way through every corner of the planet. Villages that had been silent and still now stirred with life as the people emerged, their faces filled with wonder and joy at the miracle they had witnessed.
The inhabitants of the planet, steeped in the legends of Valicar, saw her as a divine savior. Crowds gathered, offering thanks and praise, their voices rising in a chorus of gratitude. But as much as Sophia appreciated their reverence, she did not linger. The burden of her recent actions weighed heavily on her, and she had no desire for adulation. She had done what she could to balance the scales, but the cost of her previous battles still lingered in her mind, a heavy shadow over her every move.
They see me as a savior, she thought as she returned to Little Val, her expression somber, dumb asses, all I’ve done is barely balance the scales. Practically one life saved for every ten I’ve taken.
She reflected on the billions she had saved with her actions, knowing it was only the beginning of her attempts to balance the scales. The lives she had taken, the destruction she had wrought, weighed heavily on her soul. Each act of salvation was a small step toward redemption, but she knew she still had a long way to go.
As the ship lifted off, leaving the rejuvenated planet behind, Sophia’s thoughts were already turning to the next challenge. The journey home was still long, and she knew her path would not be an easy one. But for the first time in a long while, she felt a glimmer of hope. The presence of humans here, living much as they had on Caldera, was a sign that she was drawing closer to her true home. The connection to her past was undeniable, and with each passing day, she felt the pull of Caldera grow stronger.
Her journey eventually led her to a galaxy ruled by a highly advanced civilization, a society that had long since abandoned flesh for the immortality of machines. These beings were not like any she had encountered before. They were robots, mechanical entities that had once been flesh and blood but had given up their mortal bodies in pursuit of eternal life. This civilization had evolved far beyond the constraints of organic life, achieving a state of existence that was both awe-inspiring and terrifying.
As Sophia entered their domain, she was immediately struck by the cold, unfeeling nature of the world around her. The cities were vast, sprawling metropolises of metal and light, devoid of any organic life. The architecture was a blend of geometric precision and sterile beauty, but it lacked the warmth and chaos of the living worlds she had traversed. The atmosphere was heavy, oppressive, as if the very air carried the weight of centuries of sterile existence.
Upon her arrival, the rulers of this mechanical civilization quickly detected the immense power she wielded. They recognized her as a potential threat—something to be neutralized before it could disrupt their perfectly ordered existence. Their response was swift and merciless. Using technology that far surpassed anything Sophia had encountered before, they captured her with terrifying ease. Devices were employed to suppress her magic, leaving her completely powerless. Her vast reserves of mana were drained away, and she found herself trapped in a way she had never experienced before.
They didn't just imprison her—they bound her, trapping her in her human form, rendering her helpless. From head to toe, she was wrapped in unyielding restraints, blindfolded and gagged, unable to move or see. She was locked away deep within the core of an artificial moon, a colossal structure hundreds of miles deep. It was a prison designed not just to contain her, but to use her. The robots had devised a way to drain her mana continuously, using her as a living energy source to power their technology and sustain their existence.
Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months as Sophia languished in this dark, cold prison. The facility was a nightmarish place—cold, sterile, and utterly devoid of life. The robots, having long abandoned their humanity, treated her with detached efficiency. She was no longer a person, but a battery, a source of power to be exploited. They drained her mana relentlessly, leaving her weakened and vulnerable, a shadow of the powerful being she once was.
But Sophia was smart, and she was patient. Despite the constant drain on her power, she found a way to save a small portion of her mana each time it regenerated. The process was slow, agonizingly so, but she knew that if she could just save enough, she might have a chance to break free. Every time her mana was drained, she held onto a tiny fraction, a spark of energy that she carefully nurtured and guarded.
Over the long months of her captivity, that spark grew. The robots, confident in their technology, never suspected that she was regaining her strength. They were too focused on their own needs, too assured of their superiority to notice the subtle shift in power. Sophia bided her time, enduring the agony of her imprisonment, until finally, after what felt like an eternity, she had gathered enough mana to act.
The moment of her escape was nothing short of cataclysmic. With her power fully restored, Sophia unleashed the full force of her true form. She tapped into the ancient power of her dragon blood, releasing the polymorph spell that had kept her bound in human form. Her transformation was a violent eruption of energy, a blinding burst of light and power that shattered the restraints that had held her for so long.
She ripped free with the brute force of an elder dragon, her massive form expanding within the core of the artificial moon. Her wings unfurled, filling the vast chamber with their span, and her scales shimmered with a radiant, otherworldly light. The walls of her prison cracked and crumbled as her raw power overwhelmed the advanced technology that had been used to imprison her. The energy fields that had drained her mana disintegrated, unable to withstand the sheer force of her wrath.
The robots, once so confident in their invincibility, were powerless to stop her. Their mechanical voices cried out in alarm, but it was too late. The artificial moon, a marvel of advanced engineering, was reduced to ruins as Sophia tore through it with unstoppable fury. In her true form, she was a force of nature, a being of immense size and power that could not be contained or controlled.
As she flew away from the smoking wreckage, her thoughts were cold and resolute. This place may be advanced, she mused, but they forgot one thing: nothing can hold a mother fucking dragon.
Finally, after a decade of travel and trials, Sophia located the wormhole that would lead her back to the Caldera Galaxy, the place she once called home. As she approached the wormhole, she felt her mana regenerating faster, a clear sign that she was getting closer to Caldera. The sensation was almost overwhelming; it was as if the universe itself was urging her forward, pulling her back to where she belonged. But with this increase in power came a growing sense of dread—what would she find when she arrived?
Home... It’s been so long, she reflected, her thoughts heavy with uncertainty. Have I changed too much to recognize it? Or has it changed too much for me?
With a mixture of hope and fear, Sophia piloted Little Val into the swirling vortex of the wormhole, determined to reclaim her home, no matter what awaited her on the other side. The passage was tumultuous, with light and energy warping around her ship. Time and space seemed to stretch as she was pulled through, the journey both exhilarating and disorienting.
As the ship emerged from the wormhole, a distress signal flared on Sophia's console. The voice on the other end was unmistakable—Raz Maliv, her most trusted subordinate and one of the three dragons she had raised over the millennia.
“Sophia… is it really you?” Raz’s voice trembled, filled with disbelief, urgency, and something far deeper—grief.
Sophia’s breath caught in her throat, and tears welled up in her eyes. “Raz… It’s me. It’s really me. I… I can’t believe it’s been so long. It’s so good to hear your voice again,” she said, her voice cracking with a mix of relief and guilt.
There was a heavy silence before Raz spoke again, her voice thick with emotion. “Fifty years, Sophia… it’s been fifty years since you were trapped. We thought you were lost forever.”
Sophia’s heart sank as the reality hit her. Fifty years had passed for Raz and the others—only a decade for herself. She had been torn away by Anna Sha’s trap, sent across the universe, lost in the void of time and space. The wormholes had warped time, stealing decades from those she cared about. The guilt washed over her, nearly overwhelming. How much had they suffered without her?
“I never meant to be gone this long… I’m so sorry, Raz,” Sophia whispered, her voice heavy with regret. “What happened while I was gone? What did I miss?”
Raz’s voice trembled as she delivered the devastating news. “Taileral is dead, Sophia… Holvor killed her. And Ivor… Ivor died trying to stop him. Holvor’s changed. He’s not the dragon you raised. He’s turned, joined Anna Sha. He’s calling himself Dragon Lord now, just like you once did. He’s destroyed entire planets, taken billions of souls by making a pact with a demon, and using necromancy—copying what you and Mike did long ago to gain great power. Easton is the only one left standing between Holvor and Caldera, and James… James has been missing for decades.”
Sophia felt her world crumble around her. Taileral, the gentle dragon she had nurtured like a daughter; Ivor, her loyal lieutenant who had fought by her side for decades—they were gone. And Holvor, the fierce warrior she had once trusted, had betrayed everything they stood for. The weight of their losses crushed her, and the grief was almost unbearable.
“Taileral… Ivor…” Sophia choked on their names, tears spilling down her cheeks. Her mind flooded with memories—Taileral as a hatchling, small and fragile, curling up in the warmth of her hand; Holvor, always the strongest of the three, even as a young dragon, with a fierce determination in his eyes that both inspired and worried her; and Ivor, the eager young recruit, standing at attention the first time she met him, his loyalty and spirit shining through even then. They were gone, and the weight of that loss crushed her. “They’re gone because of me… because I wasn’t here. And Holvor… how could he do this? How could I have let him become this?”
“You couldn’t have known,” Raz said softly, though her voice was strained with her own grief. “But you’re here now, Sophia. That’s what matters. We’ve held on this long, but we can’t do it without you. Holvor… it was his greed, Sophia. His bloodlust after you vanished—it consumed him. He wiped out the rebels, crushed the aliens that threatened the empire, but only after destroying their capitals and consuming their souls. That power—it changed him, set him on this path. It turned him and Easton into enemies, and with half the fleet under Holvor’s command, the empire broke into a true civil war. The unrest that was brewing before you left… it’s boiled over. We’ve lost so much… but with you back, we have a chance.”
Sophia’s tears mixed with a cold, simmering rage. She had been gone for fifty years, but now she was back, and she would make sure that Holvor paid for what he had done. She had hesitated once, believing she could save him from himself, but that time was over.
“How long do we have before he takes Caldera?” Sophia asked, her voice trembling with a mixture of sorrow and anger.
“Not long,” Raz replied, urgency creeping back into her tone. “Holvor will sense you soon if he hasn’t already. His power… Sophia, it’s beyond anything we’ve ever faced. We need you now, more than ever.”
Sophia’s sorrow hardened into a fierce resolve. She had lost too much already—Taileral, Ivor, and now even Holvor. But Raz was still here, and so was Easton. She wouldn’t let Holvor destroy what little remained of the world she had fought so hard to protect.
“I’m coming, Raz,” Sophia said, her voice steadying with determination. “We’ll stop Holvor. We’ll stop this once and for all.”
Raz’s voice, though laced with grief, carried a glimmer of hope. “With you here, Sophia… we have a chance.”
As Sophia set a new course, the stars blurred around her, and she steeled herself for the battle ahead. Holvor might have declared himself a Dragon Lord, but he was about to learn what it truly meant to face one—especially one who had lost everything she loved and was driven by the need to protect the world she had helped build.
She had been lost for fifty years, but now she was home. And this time, she wasn’t leaving until the fight was over, and those who had fallen were avenged.