The Multiverse Hunter

Ali glanced down at his once pristine white shoes, now dirtied by the grime of the tradoshan's brain. 'Fuck, it's dirty,' he thought, annoyed at the unsightly blemish. Turning, he noticed the two girls still frozen in place, their wide eyes betraying their shock at what they'd just witnessed.

Without a word, Ali walked over to Veronica and extended his hand. "Give it back," he said flatly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Veronica blinked in confusion before realising she was still holding his cone of ice cream. Embarrassed, she handed it back to him. Her gaze lingered on his face beneath the hat and glasses, scrutinising his features. 'A human… and handsome' she thought, taking in the chiseled jawline and confident demeanour.

Ali didn't spare her a second glance as he turned and began walking out of the alley. "Thank you," Veronica called after him, her voice echoing faintly against the brick walls. Ali raised his hand in acknowledgment, waving dismissively without looking back.

The sound of footsteps and urgent voices interrupted the moment as four guards from The Veil arrived at the alley, drawn by the earlier gunshot.

"Veronica, are you okay? What happened?" one of the guards asked as they rushed toward her.

"Trandoshans," Veronica replied, brushing off the dirt from her clothes. "They tried to force themselves on us."

The guards exchanged grim looks. One of them knelt beside the body of the Trandoshan with a clean bullet hole in his forehead. "Then who—?"

"I don't know," Veronica interrupted, shaking her head. "He just came in and saved us… I'm heading back. You guys report this to the boss."

As she stepped out of the alley, Veronica paused at the entrance and glanced down the street, hoping to catch another glimpse of her saviour. But Ali was already gone, his imposing figure lost amidst the throngs of people in the bustling underground.

Ali wandered through the popular food market located in the underground sector of Tartek's capital. The vibrant market was a well-known tourist attraction and one of the few places where the city's social classes mingled—though not on equal terms.

As he made his way through the crowd, his sharp eyes caught sight of a familiar figure bouncing excitedly near a food stall. Reka, the energetic young acolyte, was practically glowing with enthusiasm as she chattered away to the nurse beside her.

'If they're here, then…,' Ali mused, scanning the market until he spotted a corner that the crowd seemed to instinctively avoid.

'Of course,' Ali thought dryly as his gaze landed on Drogath, standing alone like a boulder in the middle of a stream. The massive apprentice towered over the market-goers, his intimidating presence keeping people at a respectful distance.

Ali approached quietly, his footsteps nearly silent despite the bustling environment. "You having fun?"

Drogath glanced to his side and immediately recognised Ali's voice and stature. "No… The food is good, though," Drogath admitted, his deep voice rumbling like distant thunder.

Ali smirked faintly. "What don't you like about this place? I can see it on your face. You're terrible at hiding how you feel, Drogath."

Drogath sighed, his golden eyes narrowing as he observed the market. "The guards," he muttered. "They're only here for the rich."

Ali followed his gaze, watching as uniformed officers patrolled the market with an obvious bias. The food market, while vibrant and lively, was a stark reflection of Tartek's social divide.

The poor came to beg, sell scraps, or try their luck with petty theft. The middle class came to work, running their small stalls or enjoying an affordable meal. And the rich? They came to flaunt their wealth and remind themselves of their superiority, using the market as their personal playground.

Guards stationed throughout the market ensured that the upper classes remained unbothered, often resorting to unnecessary force against the less fortunate. Ali's sharp eyes caught one such instance—a guard shoving an elderly man to the ground for simply walking too close to a well-dressed gentleman.

Drogath's fists clenched at the sight, his Force energy subtly radiating around him.

'Where was that good conscience when he massacred the other slaves? But he does say he can't remember…', Ali thought, noting Drogath's reaction.

"You ever heard of a zoo?" Ali asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

Drogath frowned. "No. What's that?"

"It's a place where animals are caged and put on display for people who buy tickets to come and watch how they eat, live, play, and sleep," Ali explained. "You could say this place is a zoo. The upper class use it to remind themselves of the difference between them and those poorer than them."

Drogath's grip on the hilt of his axe tightened.

Ali glanced at his companion's clenched hand. 'He's getting angry… Can't have that right now.'

"Well, be grateful you're strong enough to kill them all with just a thought," Ali said, his tone laced with dark humour. "Otherwise, they'd be looking down on you too."

He patted Drogath on the shoulder, the casual gesture diffusing some of the tension. "Don't do anything stupid. These lords have connections, and if you kill them without reason, the Council will go after your family as punishment."

Drogath huffed, nodding reluctantly. Ali gave him a small nod before leaving the food market on his own.

Back at the Empire's headquarters, Ali sat behind the desk in his newly assigned office. The room was luxurious, befitting his rank, with dark wood furniture and a large screen on the wall opposite him.

The screen displayed a dossier on the Witches of Dathomir, their mystical abilities detailed in crisp text.

'Magic…,' Ali thought, leaning back in his chair. 'Channeling spirits to gain powers like teleportation, alchemy, and even controlling the dead. So that's how she got away from me.'

His mind worked quickly, analysing the information. 'If she's after the relic, then she's targeting the owner. If I find him, I'll find her…'

KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.

"Come in," Ali called without looking up.

The door opened, and Lena stepped inside, a stack of papers in hand. "Sir, I have what you asked for," she said, her voice respectful yet tinged with nervousness.

Ali didn't move. Instead, he used the Force to pull the papers from Lena's hands, levitating them across the room until they settled neatly in front of him. Lena watched in awe, still amazed by his effortless command of the Force.

Ali scanned the documents quickly, his eyes narrowing as he read. "A former soldier of the Empire… Retired here two years ago and now works as a server."

He set the papers down and looked at Lena. "Trace him back to his origins. Go as far back as you can and find out who the rest of his squad mates were. Talk to them and get every piece of information you can."

"Yes, sir," Lena said with a nod, quickly leaving the office to carry out his orders.

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