Speed Villian: Fugitive from the stars

In a mystical palace brimming with life and creation, the air itself seemed alive—humming with the rhythm of existence. Streams of soft, radiant energy flowed through the halls like rivers of light, illuminating walls engraved with divine symbols that pulsed gently as though breathing. The floor shimmered with runes that glowed at every step, creating ripples of tranquil power.

Dozens of mechanical beings—robot-like in form but graceful as dancers—moved with purpose. Each wore dazzling robes woven from threads of luminescent silk, their gestures precise, their movements synchronized, as if the palace itself conducted them in an eternal symphony. Some tended to crystal fountains that overflowed with pure energy, while others adjusted the floating spheres that revolved slowly around the hall, radiating calm and order.

At the heart of this grand palace sat a throne that defied mortal craftsmanship. Though not made of gold, it shone with a beauty that eclipsed any royal seat of the material realm. It pulsed with emerald light, alive, as though it acknowledged only one master. Upon it sat a man whose presence alone seemed to command the flow of the entire palace. A soft, green sheen emanated from his body, enveloping him in a divine glow. His robe, adorned with living patterns of light, shifted colors subtly with every breath. Around his neck hung a necklace made of small, glowing orbs—each one humming with faint echoes of creation itself.

His hair was a cascade of emerald, long and fluid, catching the light with every faint motion. Even his eyebrows and eyelashes shimmered with the same hue, as though nature itself had painted him from its purest essence. When he finally opened his eyes, two deep green stars emerged—calm, ancient, and unfathomable. The air trembled lightly in reverence.

The vast doors of the palace parted without a sound. A new figure entered, his very presence bending the light in the room. He walked with quiet majesty, each step releasing a faint trail of prismatic brilliance. His robe radiated with colors that flowed like living rainbows—not dyed, but glowing from a mysterious, inner brilliance that seemed to challenge the palace itself.

His hair was long, golden-yellow, cascading backward in smooth waves that shimmered like sunlight caught in eternal motion. His eyes gleamed with unshakable confidence, the calm arrogance of one who stood beyond comparison. In his aura danced hues of warmth and might—like the dawn challenging the forest at daybreak.

For a brief moment, the two men faced each other—emerald and rainbow light intertwining silently, filling the hall with an otherworldly brilliance. The air grew heavy, yet harmonious. Power met power, not in hostility, but in a silent acknowledgment—two beings whose very existence shaped worlds merely by breathing.

The robotic attendants paused mid-task, their glowing eyes dimming in instinctive submission. The palace itself seemed to hold its breath.

Then, with a faint smile curving on his lips, the man on the throne spoke, his voice deep and calm, carrying a weight that seemed older than time itself.

"So… you've come again."

The newcomer chuckled softly, his tone filled with playful reverence yet quiet pride. "You knew I would."

And in that moment, the light around them danced—two forces of creation, old as existence itself, sharing a silence that only beings of their magnitude could understand.

"Haish, must you disturb me?" The emerald lighted man said.

"Stop copying my words. They have trademarks." The newcomer replied him in a playful warning manner. "Actually I wanted to sleep when that land opened again."

"Wait it's already another 100 boundary years?" The man on the throne gave a surprise remark.

"Stop acting like as if it's new to you. And besides you did not even present a place for me to seat. You lack hospitality." He sauntered. "Anyways, I brought mine."

The man on the throne snorted. "You should have not brought it."

The yellow haired man brought out his own throne from nowhere. This throne is mystical on its own. It gave a kind of filled pressure. He then sat on it. "Heh, those little peeps are already restless."

"Like as if during your time, you weren't restless."

"Heh, I was not restless. I was focused. I am not like you who used connection." The yellow haired man replied.

"Really, like as if you didn't use connection too."

"Mine was better. I strived to get the spot while you, you...." This yellow haired man shook his head and said. "That old man just picked you."

"Connection or no connection, I am still stronger than you."

"Why do I sense irony in your words?"

"Heh." A voice sounded. "He is trying to give himself joy."

Then another figure walked in.

"Haish the gang leader of the divine beings has arrived." The emerald lighted man said, facepalming.

This newcomer's arrival shifted the entire atmosphere of the palace. The prismatic glow dimmed slightly, as if the world itself made room for his presence. His fiery red hair blazed like living flame—each strand burning with a brilliance that danced with his every movement. It wasn't just red; it shimmered in shades of crimson, scarlet, and molten gold, like a sunset condensed into a mane. The hair flowed freely down his back, untamed and wild, betraying a spirit that refused the calm elegance that filled this place.

He was dressed carelessly, almost rebelliously. A half-worn button-up shirt hung loosely from his shoulders, exposing a broad, toned chest inscribed with ancient symbols that pulsed faintly in rhythm with his heartbeat. The inscriptions were not mere marks—they were alive, glowing like embers whenever he breathed. Each rune seemed to carry a trace of his essence, whispering in tongues too old for even gods to recall.

His shorts were simple, medium-sized, and slightly torn at the edges as if scorched by his own fiery aura. Yet the roughness only added to his charm. His whole appearance was an elegant contradiction—disorder sculpted into beauty, rebellion dressed in grace. His skin carried a faint bronze tint, glimmering subtly in the ambient light, while faint waves of heat distorted the air around him.

Despite his ruggedness, there was an undeniable magnetism about him—an aura that drew attention and respect without asking for it. His eyes, burning red yet holding hints of orange and gold, flickered like twin flames. They held both mischief and wisdom, the kind of gaze that could make even celestial beings feel uneasy.

When he moved, his energy followed like a tide of molten power—graceful yet violent, elegant yet unrestrained. The floor beneath his bare feet seemed to hum faintly, reacting to the raw force contained within him. Even the robotic attendants froze in awe, their metallic frames trembling slightly as though sensing the primal heat radiating from his body.

Though his attire screamed carelessness, his presence spoke otherwise. Every tilt of his head, every glance, carried a subtle authority. There was beauty in his imperfection, like a roaring wildfire that could burn down worlds yet warm those he allowed near.

He was chaos made flesh—wild, radiant, and mesmerizing. One of the rare beings known among the high realms as the Beauty of Red—a title not given by mortals, but earned through power, charm, and a presence that burned into the memory of all who beheld him.

As he approached, a faint smirk played on his lips, and his fiery aura flared slightly, brushing against the serene emerald glow of the man on the throne. Sparks crackled in the air where their energies met—fire and life, heat and growth, two forces that could either create or destroy depending on their will.

"Still sitting there looking all perfect, huh?" he said casually, his tone carrying both mockery and familiarity. His voice was warm yet edged with mischief, like a flame that teased before it consumed.

The green-haired man only smiled faintly, resting his chin on his palm. "And you," he replied calmly, "still walking around like the universe owes you a button."

The fiery newcomer laughed—a bold, unrestrained sound that echoed through the palace and made even the walls vibrate. It wasn't the laughter of arrogance, but of someone who had seen the stars fall and dared to laugh at their descent.

And in that moment, as flame met serenity, the palace became the stage for 3 beings who embodied the extremes of existence—order and chaos, creation and destruction, beauty in its wildest and purest form.

"Anyways I brought some news."

"Kaleo, my money." Immediately the yellow haired man asked.

"Yoo, calm down." The newcomer named kaleo replied sharply.

"You also owe me too."

"You are the only gang leader I have seen that is a big debtor."

"Two of you, shut up and listen to my news. Do you remember this face?" A flame screen appeared. On the screen was actually Kael-X.

The other two squinted their eyes at the screen like as if they have bad eyesight.

"Isn't this Caibre?"

"No, this should be his son. Their family are known to have at least rare energy was they awaken."

"His son.... Kael-X." The yellow haired man called out the name.

"But Zulek imprisoned that little boy after their family went extinct. He even turned him to his first generation successful research object."

"Let me talk." Kaleo interrupted the two. "Kael-X is was found on Earth."

"How?" The green haired man calmly asked.

"Dunno. My resources told me he found him in a remote city. He uses yellow lightning-"

"Speedforce?" The other two men seated on their thrones asked simultaneously.

"Don't interrupt me. Yes, speedforce. He is indeed the son of Caibre."

"How was he able to reach this galaxy?"

"Do you remember 48 years ago during the festival of eternal dusk?" Kaleo asked.

"Wait, don't tell me."

"Yes. My resources let me know something appeared like a meteor last year."

"How does it correlate? Idiot." The yellow haired man mocked.

"Amanda challenge Zulek since 30 years ago and she found that Zulek did not use his gauntlet during their 3 brawls." Kaleo didn't respond to the yellow haired man mockery.

Stroking his chin, the green haired man said with calm expression. "Hmmm, I see, the forces of Zulek has been rampant since that festival. And there's only one way Kael-X could reach milky way without spending millions of light years and not dying."

The yellow haired man completed the sentence. "The time warp gauntlet. Cool. That's karma on Zulek. If that's the case, Amanda will beat Zulek, and get his position and sanctum fragment, Zulek will definitely find Kael in the milky way and I will have to stop Zulek from taking Kael away because Caibre is still alive. Although I don't know where he is, I think he is stucked in a sanctum. His life mark is still shining meaning he is alive. And you wouldn't want to face the wrath of Caibre, will you?"

"Nah."

Kaleo said after some contemplation." If the others are to know he had lost his gauntlet, many people will challenge him. He is bound to lose. This era will be remarkable."

"Heh."

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, 100 , 100 . .