Birth of the Ruler: The Emergence of the Primordial Race

Nyxander and Beorn stepped into the North Lord Hall, their steps slow yet deliberate. The grandeur of the chamber was not lost on them as their eyes scanned the room, pausing briefly on their colleagues before settling on Lumina. She stood against the wall, her back resting against it like an immovable sentinel. Her arms were folded tightly across her chest, and one leg was casually propped against the surface, exuding a demeanor of quiet authority.

"Don't tell me you forgot how important today is," Lumina said, her voice icy and sharp. Her cold gaze shifted toward Nyxander, slicing through him like a blade. A chill ran down his spine, his composure faltering for a brief moment.

"Ha, haha. Not really," Nyxander replied, a nervous chuckle escaping as his gaze darted away, seeking refuge from her piercing stare.

"Let's move. We're already late. The other Astro Stations are waiting," she said, pushing herself off the wall and standing tall, her presence commanding.

"Yes, ma'am," the group responded in unison, their voices a blend of respect and obedience. They fell into step behind her, their strides echoing through the corridor as they approached a large, intricately carved wooden door that exuded an aura of importance.

Lumina pushed the door open, the hinges creaking softly, and one by one, they entered. The room, though modest in size, radiated an atmosphere of importance. Round tables were scattered throughout, each surrounded by chairs, some already occupied by members of the other Astro Stations. The low hum of murmured conversations filled the air, punctuated occasionally by the clink of glasses.

Their entrance drew the attention of those seated, curious gazes following their movements. Lumina turned to her group, her voice low yet firm, laced with quiet authority.

"Find a seat," she commanded, her tone leaving no room for argument.

"Yes," they replied in unison, dispersing to find their places among the tables.

"Nyxander," Lumina called, her voice cutting through the murmurs. He turned to face her, a questioning hum escaping his lips.

"You're coming with me," she said, her tone brooking no refusal.

Without hesitation, Nyxander nodded, falling into step beside her. They walked toward a single round table at the front of the hall, where the Astro leaders and the Astro Lord himself were seated.

As they walked, Lumina's voice dropped to a near whisper, audible only to Nyxander. "If you're asked to do something difficult, something that feels wrong, you're free to reject it," she said, her eyes fixed firmly ahead, her tone steady yet layered with subtle concern.

Nyxander glanced briefly at their destination, his expression contemplative. "Understood," he replied simply, his voice steady as he matched her pace.

At the table, Seraphina spotted Lumina and waved at her enthusiastically. Lumina returned the gesture with a small nod, but Nyxander's attention was elsewhere. His gaze met Centric's, whose eyes burned with barely concealed rage. Instead of reacting with equal hostility, Nyxander smirked, a mocking curve of his lips that only fueled the fire in Centric's glare.

The tension was palpable, a taut string ready to snap, when the Astro Lord's voice cut through it.

"You're finally here," he said, addressing Lumina with a nod of acknowledgment.

"Yes," Lumina replied, her tone professional as she gestured toward Nyxander. "And this is Zion," she said before turning to the Astro Lord. "This is the station's Astro Lord, the highest authority here."

To everyone's surprise, Nyxander stepped forward without hesitation, extending his hand toward the Astro Lord. His voice was calm yet brimming with confidence.

"Nice to meet you," he said simply.

The room fell into stunned silence. Jaws dropped, and even Lumina and Hung, who sat near the Astro Lord, stared in disbelief.

"You bastard! Who are you to address him that way?" Centric roared, rising to his feet and slamming his hand on the table. His anger was a storm brewing, his voice thunderous.

Nyxander turned to him, his gaze calm and unflinching, as though Centric's rage were nothing more than a passing breeze. "Just because he's your leader doesn't make him mine. If you're unhappy about that, I can leave," Nyxander said coolly, his words like daggers piercing the silence.

The room grew heavier with tension, beads of sweat forming on the foreheads of the other Astro leaders.

"Give me the command, Astro Lord, and I'll execute him here and now," Centric growled, his hand twitching as he prepared to summon his weapon.

Nyxander's gaze didn't waver as he addressed the Astro Lord directly. "I hope you think this through carefully, especially since you have something to request of me. Or do you prefer letting this nuisance continue his barking?"

The room held its breath, the silence oppressive, as Nyxander and the Astro Lord locked eyes. The latter's cold gaze seemed to pierce through Nyxander's very being, but Nyxander held firm, unyielding under the weight of it.

The room's stillness deepened, the silence so complete it seemed to press against the walls. Then, unexpectedly, the Astro Lord's stern face softened, and a deep, rumbling laugh erupted from him.

"Good," the Astro Lord said, rising to his feet.

The other Astro leaders stared in shock, their disbelief mirrored in the faces of everyone else in the hall. It was the first time anyone had seen the Astro Lord laugh, and the sound of it reverberated through the room like a clap of thunder breaking a storm.

"I love that confidence of yours," the Astro Lord said, his voice calm but layered with a subtle undertone of challenge as he accepted Nyxander's handshake. For a brief moment, the room seemed to hold its breath.

The Astro Lord's grip tightened, and with an almost imperceptible flick of intent, he released a surge of immortal energy into Nyxander's hand. The energy burst forth, shimmering like a tempest, coiling with the weight of power, aiming to subdue the young warrior. Yet, to his astonishment, Nyxander stood unfazed.

Nyxander's grip remained firm, a handshake like a steady bridge between equals, carrying no tremor of weakness or submission. The immortal energy, like a living mist, recoiled just inches away from Nyxander as though the very air surrounding him bore a presence too commanding to be overcome. The energy shifted and dispersed, avoiding him like a timid creature before a predator.

The Astro Lord's eyes widened, the momentary flicker of surprise betraying his otherwise stoic demeanor. Nyxander caught the look and tilted his head slightly. "Is there any problem?" he asked, his voice as calm as still waters, yet laced with an unshakable assurance that carried more weight than the question itself.

The Astro Lord's lips curled into a faint smile, his composure swiftly regained. "Sorry for the delayed response," he said smoothly, releasing Nyxander's hand. "Please, have a seat." His gesture toward the table was both inviting and deliberate, as though to mark Nyxander's place among them.

"Then I'll take you up on that," Nyxander replied, his tone casual but confident as he took the seat beside Lumina.

The Astro Lord raised his hand, his voice carrying over the room like rolling thunder. "Let us enjoy this moment before we proceed with today's main purpose!"

A chorus of cheers erupted. "Heeey!" came the unified cry, and the once-tense atmosphere shattered into vibrant chatter and laughter. The hall, alive with energy, buzzed with conversations and clinking cups, each corner brimming with renewed spirit.

Seizing the moment, Lumina leaned toward Nyxander, her voice low and edged with concern. "Don't you think your actions were a bit too much? If you keep carrying yourself like this, you'll only draw more animosity," she said, her words sharp but laced with a quiet sincerity.

She straightened in her seat, resuming a lighthearted exchange with Seraphina and Dunstan, but Nyxander remained still. Her words echoed faintly in his mind, yet his thoughts were elsewhere.

"Why does the sensation I felt when I approached the Astro Lord seem so familiar?" he mused, his brows furrowing as fragments of a distant memory began piecing together. Suddenly, a vivid flash of recollection broke through the fog of his thoughts, a memory from his infancy, of being at the battle arena, watching the formidable spar.

"Hum," he muttered under his breath, his eyes widening with realization. So that's when I first felt it. This feeling... it surged within me whenever my body recognized a worthy opponent."

"This feeling," he thought, "it's the same as back then. That overwhelming, primal sensation coursing through me... It's not just a reaction. It's the trait of the Primordial bloodline, a relentless, unyielding will that know no fear. A living force that awakens in the presence of a worthy opponent.

His gaze turned inward as the truth unfurled like a banner in his mind. "The Primordial race... a race so powerful, so defiant, that even the cosmos itself sought to seal us away. This explains why our blood is so violent, so untamed. The primordial race truly is a force that should never be trifled with."

Hahaha." A low laugh escaped him, barely audible amidst the noise of the room. For the first time in years, beads of sweat formed on his forehead, not from exertion but from the weight of his epiphany.

"A true homunculus of the cosmos," he murmured to himself, the words tasting both sweet and bitter. For in understanding the unparalleled strength of his heritage, he also grasped the immense burden it carried in that moment, not just the power of his blood but the legacy it carried.