In a towering spire at the heart of one of X3X's most advanced cities, a meeting of utmost importance was underway. The room glowed faintly with dim blue lights, casting eerie shadows on the nine circular seats arranged at the center. Each seat held a holographic projection of a governor, their alien forms flickering against the luminous backdrop.

Governor Cira, a slender figure with sharp, calculated eyes, broke the silence. "Now that all the governors are present, let's begin."

As governors, each of them ruled entire galaxies within the X3X domain, second in power only to the Queen's Steward—and, of course, the Queen herself. These meetings were rare, and this one carried a weight none dared ignore.

Cira's voice tightened. "We already know why we're here. We've all seen the videos, And know how much was lost. The Star Eater is a threat like none we've faced. If we don't act now, we risk another powerful force forming—like the Paladins or the Bishops. What's worse, this one wields celestial energy."

A governor with a goliath-sized hologram slammed a massive fist on the virtual table. His booming voice carried over the echoes of murmurs. "Governor Cira is right! This thing needs to be destroyed. Capturing it isn't an option anymore. Did you see how it killed Fury? It killed him with hardly any effort, in such a embarrassing way. We can't afford to wait until this monster decides to attack us directly."

A wave of agreement rippled through the room. Uneasy glances were exchanged, the gravity of the situation anchoring their focus.

"Alright then," Cira continued. "Let's put it to a vote. Who here believes we should launch a full-scale war against the Star Eater?"

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Without hesitation, every hand shot up.

Cira nodded grimly. "Then it's decided. But if we're going to war, we'll need the Golden Stars."

"Agreed," said Governor Trak, his wiry frame vibrating. "But the real question is—how many? Which of our champions should we risk?"

A silence stretched until Cira's voice cut through. "We'll take them all."

The room erupted in hushed murmurs, most governors shaking their heads in disbelief. Governor Orin leaned forward, his deep-set eyes narrowing on Cira. "For someone entrusted with a governor's title, your recklessness knows no bounds. Deploying all our champions? That's beyond unnecessary. The chance of the Queen finding out extremely high… And do I really need to remind you what happens to us if that sick woman does?"

Cira met his glare with steel in her voice. "I'm fully aware of the risks, Orin. But we don't have a choice. That thing took Fury down in one move. Do you understand what that means? Only the Upper Four of the Golden Stars have a chance against it—and even that's uncertain. We don't know its full strength, or that of its allies. It consumes stars, for gods' sake! Every second we delay, it grows stronger."

Orin leaned back in his seat, the lines of worry deepening across his face. The room fell silent, the governors visibly weighing their options.

Finally, Orin exhaled heavily. "If we go forward with this... the Steward must be informed."

A chill ran through the room. Even Cira faltered momentarily, though she quickly recovered. Fear flickered in the holographic faces surrounding her.

"I know," she said, her voice softer now. "If someone else brings this to his attention, we'll all face a fate worse than death. Don't worry—I'll handle it. He has a soft spot for me i doubt he'll do anything."

The other governors exchanged uneasy glances. Orin's tone grew cold. "Let's hope your confidence isn't misplaced, Cira. Otherwise, we won't just lose our lives. We'll lose our legacies."

Cira straightened. "It's settled, then. We prepare for war. Several centuries from now, we strike."

The room went quiet, the weight of their decision pressing on every present soul.