Birth of the Ruler: The Emergence of the Primordial Race

Nyxander walked through the bustling business district, his steps steady yet unhurried, like a lone traveler navigating the shifting tides of a restless sea. The warm glow of street lamps flickered against the cobbled paths, their light casting elongated shadows that danced with the movement of late-night merchants and weary travelers. The hum of voices, the distant clatter of horse hooves, and the occasional burst of laughter wove together into the fabric of the night's melody.

But as he turned a corner, the vibrant energy of the district slowly receded behind him, swallowed by the creeping embrace of darkness. The once-illuminated path gave way to dimly lit alleyways where towering buildings loomed like silent sentinels, their aged facades scarred by time and neglect. The night air grew heavier, quieter, no longer filled with chatter but with an eerie stillness, punctuated only by the soft echo of his own footsteps. Few dared to pass through this desolate walkway at such an hour, and those who did kept their heads down, shadows in their own right.

Nyxander continued undeterred until he reached his destination: the SSA Office, the only building in the vicinity that still bore signs of life. Faint murmurs seeped through the walls, and a dim light flickered through the cracks of the door, struggling against the surrounding darkness.

Nyxander stepped forward and knocked, his knuckles rapping firmly against the aged wood.

A voice grumbled from the other side. "Who could that be at this late hour?" Heavy footsteps approached, then the door creaked open, revealing Bako.

The moment Bako's gaze landed on Nyxander, his breath hitched. His body stiffened, caught between fear and surprise.

"Are you going to let me in, or should I kick the door in?" Nyxander's voice was calm, yet laced with an authority that sent a shiver down Bako's spine.

"N-No… No, sir. Forgive my rudeness," Bako stammered, quickly stepping aside.

Just as Nyxander crossed the threshold, another voice rang from within, one deeper, more composed. "Bako, who is it?"

By now, Nyxander had already entered, his gaze locking onto Kal, who sat leisurely on a wooden chair, a small table in front of him. Scattered game cards lay across its surface, remnants of a card game rudely interrupted.

For a brief moment, silence stretched between them like an unspoken challenge. Then, Kal's entire demeanor shifted.

"Welcome back, Boss." His voice quivered slightly, his forehead slick with a thin sheen of sweat as he sprang from his seat and bowed.

Nyxander remained impassive. "You may stand properly."

"Y...Yes, sir. Please, have a seat." Kal hastily pulled out the chair he had been lounging on, offering it to Nyxander as if it were a throne.

Moments later, all three subordinates, Kal, Bako, and Bili, stood before him, heads slightly bowed, their eyes darting between one another, seeking some unspoken reassurance. Their shoulders were taut, the weight of uncertainty pressing down like an invisible yoke.

The air thickened with tension, silence weaving itself into the room like an uninvited guest. Then, finally, Kal spoke, his voice careful, uncertain.

"Boss… why have you come at this hour?" His eyes flicked up for the briefest second before returning to the ground.

Nyxander leaned forward slightly, his sharp gaze surveying them like a hawk gauging its prey. "Are you unhappy to see me?"

Their responses came instantly. "No, Boss!" they chorused in unison.

Kal quickly added, "We're just… surprised. We didn't expect you at this hour."

Another pause. Another silence.

Then, Nyxander cleared his throat, a deep hum escaping his lips as he gathered his words. "I came to inform you of our next plan," he began, his voice measured, deliberate. "We will form a team, one akin to the existing Astro teams."

The weight of his words struck them at once. Their eyes snapped up, locking onto him before shifting between one another in confusion.

"But… there's no way we can form a team with such limited numbers," Bili started hesitantly.

Before he could finish, Kal's expression twisted in realization, his widened eyes betraying his thoughts. "Wait… don't tell me, you plan to subdue the rogue fighters from the other three stations?"

A smirk ghosted Nyxander's lips. "Exactly. It seems you're smarter than you appear."

At that revelation, Bili and Bako's faces paled. The air around them grew even heavier, thick with apprehension.

"If that's what you intend," Kal said, his voice now edged with concern, "forget about it. Although our strengths are comparable, those men won't be taken by surprise. They've already heard of you, of what you did to us. I guarantee they've made preparations to counter you. This won't be easy."

Nyxander merely chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest. "That may be true… if it were anyone else. But with me?" He raised his right fist, his thumb pointing at himself. "The story is different."

Kal stiffened. For a moment, he forgot the oppressive tension in the room. Memories surged within him, each moment he had spent under Nyxander's command. Every grueling task. Every ruthless punishment. Every instance where Nyxander had demonstrated his overwhelming strength.

A small, almost imperceptible smile played at the corners of Kal's lips. A smile of both fear and admiration.

"You're truly terrifying," he muttered under his breath before exhaling and meeting Nyxander's gaze once more. "Fine. I'll play along. I'd like to see how you plan to pull this off."

Beside him, Bako and Bili leaned in, whispering urgently.

"Is it really wise to provoke all those rogue fighters from the other stations?"

They had spoken in hushed voices, but Nyxander, even from across the room, caught every syllable.

He remained silent, choosing to observe as Kal turned to them, his eyes hard, unreadable.

"You've seen it, haven't you?" Kal said, his voice low but firm. "You've witnessed firsthand how strong he is. And if you're still unsure, think back to his last spar. It was one-sided, an utter domination. And the scariest part?" Kal's gaze darkened. "He didn't even go all out. That means he still has more cards hidden up his sleeve."

Bako and Bili swallowed hard, their apprehension battling the undeniable truth in Kal's words.

Nyxander watched, allowing them the space to process it on their own. After all, fear was a powerful motivator, but belief? That was an unshakable foundation.

And soon enough, they would come to believe in him, whether through trust… or terror.

Kal exhaled, his eyes steady as they met Nyxander's. "So, when do we start?" His voice carried no hesitation, only certainty.

Beside him, Bako and Bili gave small nods, their expressions mirroring the same resolve.

Nyxander's gaze flickered across them, surprise flashing in his golden irises like a fleeting ember. "It seems you've all made up your minds," he murmured, rising from the wooden chair with a quiet grace, his long coat shifting slightly as he moved. "Then there's no reason to delay. We begin tomorrow, there's no time to waste."

"Understood," Kal responded, determination settling in his voice like steel being tempered in fire. "We'll prepare for your arrival and be ready to follow you to the new recruits."

As Nyxander turned to leave, a thought crossed his mind. His hand dipped into his pocket, retrieving a small, exquisitely crafted box. Its surface gleamed under the dim lamplight, polished wood with intricate carvings that hinted at its value. With a casual flick of his wrist, he tossed it toward Kal.

"Before I forget," he said, "this was given to me, but it's of no use to me. You can have it."

Kal caught the box with reflexive ease, its weight unexpected in his palm. He hesitated for only a second before undoing the small, delicate lock and lifting the lid.

The moment the top swung open, Bako and Bili leaned in, their curiosity pulling them closer. Their eyes widened, and their breath hitched as they took in the contents.

Inside, meticulously arranged with an almost reverent precision, lay six pills, two of each kind, separated neatly into pairs. The moment their eyes registered what they were looking at, their minds struggled to comprehend it.

"Two Primordial Vitalis Pills…" Kal muttered under his breath.

"Two Primordial Surge Pills…" Bili added, voice barely above a whisper.

"And two Primordial Ascendium Pills," Bako finished, his tone somewhere between disbelief and awe.

For a moment, none of them moved, staring at the pills as if their very existence defied reason. Then, realization struck them like a lightning bolt. Their heads snapped up simultaneously, eyes darting between each other, silently confirming that what they saw was real.

Then suddenly.

"WHAT?!" The three of them shouted in unison, their shock reverberating through the room.

Nyxander's brow arched slightly, intrigued by their reaction. "What's wrong?" he asked, his tone casual, as if he had just handed them mere trinkets.

Kal's fingers trembled slightly as he clenched the box. "No, we should be the ones asking what's wrong!" he exclaimed, his voice strained with disbelief. "For the headquarters to sent down purity core-grade pills (Grade Three) no less, and not just one, but two of each kind… This has never happened before!"

Nyxander remained unmoved, his expression unreadable. "Is that a problem?"

Kal inhaled sharply, struggling to put his thoughts into words. "Purity-grade pills have never been given to any station official, not even the highest-ranking North Astro Lord himself! And yet, suddenly, it was distributed to all Astro Stations?"

The weight of his words settled into the room like a looming storm. A moment later, something clicked in Kal's mind. His thoughts snapped back to the whispers that had been circulating, rumors of change, of power shifting, of a fifth team being considered by the Station Lords.

His gaze sharpened. "Does this mean the rumors about the war were true?" Kal asked, his voice quieter now, laced with suspicion.

Nyxander offered a simple nod. "Yes, that true."

But the answer did not satisfy Kal. His mind raced, connecting dots that led to a deeper, more unsettling realization. "Even if that were true," he continued, his tone low and thoughtful, "that still wouldn't explain why the Station Headquarters would send something so valuable down to the branch station. There has to be another reason."

Nyxander regarded him for a long moment, the flickering candlelight casting shifting shadows across his face. Then, as if losing interest in the conversation entirely, he took a step forward, closing the distance between them.

"Don't trouble yourself over it," he said, his voice quiet but firm. "What matters now is the task ahead."

Kal swallowed hard, suddenly aware of how close Nyxander was. There was something about him, an undeniable force that made even the air feel heavier. For a moment, Kal felt like he was standing before something far greater than just a man.

His throat dried, and he instinctively nodded. "Y.. Yes, sir."

Nyxander's lips curled into the faintest smirk before he turned away, striding toward the exit with an air of finality. As his hand reached for the door, he cast a glance back at the wooden table, where the scattered game cards lay abandoned. Then, his gaze flicked back to the three of them.

"It would be wise to rest early," he remarked. "Tomorrow will be a busy day."

With that, he stepped through the doorway, the night swallowing him whole.

"Y-Yes… sir," they answered in unison, their voices barely above whispers as the door shut behind him.