Earth's Greatest Magus

It had been several days since Emery and his group had taken refuge on the Insectoid homeworld. The planet's true name was difficult to pronounce, but throughout the Magus Universe, it was known simply as the Fifth Colony—one of the eight Insectoid homeworlds.

The planet was unlike any place he had ever seen—an endless stretch of chitin-coated cities and sprawling hive-forests that pulsed with muted life. From orbit, the world shimmered like a mosaic of amber and obsidian, its continents divided by vast fungal rivers and crystalized honey lakes that reflected the dim light of its twin suns.

The inhabitants were a curious sight—hundreds of millions of hybrids bred from the six dominant insectoid bloodlines: beetle, mantis, ant, moth, hornet, spider. Beyond them were hundreds of lesser strains, each carrying distinct traits—translucent wings, gleaming carapaces, or multifaceted eyes that glowed faintly under the planet's pale light. Yet, despite their monstrous appearance, their society thrived on unity and discipline.

During his stay, Emery learned that the Insectoids lived under a rigid collective system. There were no sprawling markets or blinding lights of commerce like those in Centauri. Instead, everything functioned like an intricate hive—every citizen contributing to the colony's survival. The people wore similar garments of woven silk fibers, their homes built in symmetrical tiers spiraling upward from vast central hives. Information was controlled; technology was decades behind the galactic standard. Yet, within this isolation, there was an undeniable sense of order and peace.

Emery found the world both fascinating and unsettling. It reminded him of an empire sealed from the cosmos—like a living fortress that had cut itself off from the tides of change. Still, as he walked among the disciplined half-bloods and felt the pulse of their unity, he couldn't deny a quiet admiration. Here, in their isolation, the Insectoids had built something rare—harmony without freedom, strength without chaos.

From the top of a hill overlooking the glittering hive valley, Emery watched the Insectoid colony at work. As he observed them, a soft hum approached from behind. Turning, Emery recognized the figure instantly and offered a respectful nod.

"How do you like my home so far?"

The voice belonged to Queen Phyllis, ruler of the Fifth Colony—one of the most respected figures of the entire Insectoid race.

"I am genuinely amazed," Emery replied, his tone sincere.

The two walked side by side, their steps overlooking the orderly movement of workers and soldiers below. For a while, they spoke casually about the colony's structure and its self-sustaining systems before Emery expressed his gratitude for allowing his group to stay and recover here.

In the past few days, the Insectoid colony had provided refuge and cover for Emery's operation. Under his careful arrangement, the Insectoid leadership had publicly taken credit for the attack on the Midnight Brotherhood—framing it as a lawful raid to capture their own criminals while releasing the captives. They had also reached out to the families of those rescued, most of whom were prominent figures from lower-realm factions. Some were safely returned, while others chose to remain under the colony's protection.

Though this maneuver placed the Insectoid race under scrutiny for breaking several Magus Alliance protocols, Emery saw it as a necessary diversion—a way to buy time and stay hidden from the mysterious forces behind the Brotherhood.

"Thank you for agreeing to my request," he said.

Queen Phyllis chuckled softly, "You speak like a human bureaucrat... Those words are unnecessary. Not only have you been a friend to our colony, but you have also returned our long-lost sacred creatures. It is we who owe you a debt."

Her tone softened, "I was troubled when I heard from my children that you had gone missing. Men like you, who dare to challenge the world, are a rare breed these days. But you must know… tall grass is always the first to be cut. It's inevitable."

Emery listened silently. He understood her meaning well. The Insectoid race, one of the most discriminated half-blood species in the galaxy, had spent centuries fighting for recognition within the Alliance. Their loyalty in battle had been rewarded not with honor but with exploitation. During the recent wars, Insectoid soldiers had been thrown to the front lines—used as living shields—while others reaped the profits from their sacrifice.

"The threat on the frontlines is real," the queen continued, her tone bitter. "But too many of my people die while others grow rich behind the walls. That is not justice."

Emery sighed deeply. Her words echoed the very truth he had witnessed across the lower realms. Countless factions and worlds had become cogs in the Alliance's great war machine—sacrificed for a cause they barely understood.

He thought of the people he had met—men like the Supreme Altus Dresden, who genuinely tried to bring reform. Yet, for every honest leader, there were countless shadows behind them—secret organizations twisting the system from within.

The truth was that over the past few days, Emery had secretly met with Duncan, the Magus Alliance emissary on Centauri, as well as Academy officer Urix, presenting them with the evidence he had recovered on Barnet.

He had hoped for justice—perhaps even the exposure of those who enabled the Midnight Brotherhood from the shadows—but the results had been disheartening.

Barnet's faction had quickly released a formal declaration, claiming the man had acted entirely on his own for personal gain. They washed their hands of him, banishing his name from their records, declaring that his death or survival was of no concern. The Academy followed suit—swiftly assigning another instructor from the very same faction to take over Barnet's position. Every attempt Emery made to press deeper, to trace the network of connections behind Barnet's orders, was quietly blocked by the Headmaster himself under the convenient excuse of "insufficient evidence."

It was clear to Emery that corruption ran deep. The discrimination, the hidden power plays, and the suppression of truth— Emery could not help to suspect the "Eternal Watchers," the clandestine force within the alliances his future self had warned him about.

The Scourge was the visible enemy—the one that destroyed planets and slaughtered millions. But the Eternal Watchers were the same as they hollowed civilizations from within.

At that moment, Emery's decision hardened like tempered steel. He turned toward Queen Phyllis, his gaze filled with quiet determination.

"One blade of grass cannot change a field," he said. "Then just make the whole plain green."

The Queen's many eyes reflected the light as she studied him. Emery took a breath and asked her directly, his voice steady but charged with purpose.

"Will you support us?"

The queen did not answer right away. She told Emery that she wished to see proof of his determination first, and if he could show her that resolve, she would do her best to bring the insectoid race behind him.

After the queen left him with more thoughts, another female figure approached. It was Kayelin—she had been listening quietly from afar.

Emery thanked her for staying by Shinta's side all these years and asked what she wanted to talk about. "Do you wish for me to find a way back home to Tartarus?"

The fey priestess shook her head. "The truth is, I was once full of doubt," she admitted softly. "But after what happened within the World Beast… I have become a true believer."

"What do you mean?" Emery asked, startled.

Kayelin met his eyes. "Do you know how many magus have ever experienced time travel? None in my realm—only rumors. And even in this world, there are a dozen recorded cases, but none quite like yours."

Her eyes shone with quiet determination as she looked at him. "You are indeed the chosen one," she said firmly. "And I am here to say that i will support you—whatever needs to be done."