Our survival depends on our collective strength, not the power of a select few. If you believe otherwise, then stake out on your own in some distant Sector. See how you endure. I won’t join you. My duty, as Legate, is to protect our people and the peoples of this galaxy. It seems you’ve forgotten that in your sudden rise to power.


    May whatever God deceived you into abandoning our empire’s people have mercy on your soul. Because if I return, I will have none.”


    <ul>


    <li>


    Legate Swane, in her declaration against Legate Reichter after the former absconded from Rome to investigate other dimensions, the Empire of Marble, Year 3067.


    </li>


    </ul>


    Dante walked away from the conversation, his hands squeezing the sides of the Brightmap at the center console of the ship’s Skull. His focus sharpened as the unimportant thoughts faded into the background.


    “So, ‘hat now, Dante? Do we ‘tay here? Become kings with our ‘ew powers and hide from the Warring Empires in the far reaches of the galaxy? Sounds like a good life to me—better than being hunted down and turned to dust,” Rejo inquired, not bothering to glance at Sonna, focused on his sole friend.


    The former captain of the ship shook his head while Sonna sputtered in disbelief, trying to get them to listen. Neither did, “No, Rejo, we’re not doing that. I have no desire to become royalty. I know you don’t either. We’ve done odd jobs for years, long before you joined, Sonna. It’s always been small-time, smuggling, breaking Aristocrats out of prison.


    Sonna slapped her hand to her face as Dante continued, “Out here in the Wings, we’ve been limited to small-time jobs. But toward the Heart? That’s where the real action is. We can finally join the real galaxy. Picture it: us, walking along Luminant Ave. Free to eat where we want. Enter a planet without a strip-search. To... live without fear.”


    As the man finished speaking, he turned to face them, causing the broken monitors to flicker to life and display the galaxy.


    A generous smile laced Dante’s face while the man’s brain spun at the speed of Lightsea travel. The weaves within his thoughts worked more similarly to the chaotic nature of the Lightsea than a typical person. He understood the risk and that people would hunt him, more than usual, for being human with such powers. After all...


    We were the first ones to bring them here. The Lightsea. And all the other minor realms. Who says we can’t fetch more? I don’t care. I don’t want to die. There are things I have to do. People I have to see. And a death I have to solve. A supposed death, that is.


    Dante’s finger hovered over the center of the Milky Way, near the Great Cavity, the Great Darkness that would devour everything tossed into it. The map lit up with dots marking civilizations, planets, and Sectors, each labeled in vibrant colors and intricate detail.


    He worked his magic—the same magic that had earned him his original crew. Sure, they’d betrayed him, but Dante didn’t need perfection. He just needed competence, people who would do what he asked when he asked them to. Beyond that, the man would choose only those with the skills he required.


    Rejo’s multicolored lenses locked onto Dante’s bright blue eyes as the human planted his case.


    “Rejo, you want the fight? The thrill. The adrenaline. That’s why you joined me, right? Andromeda is a wasteland—nothing to do, no one to fight. Here we are now, stuck in the Wings, where it is not much better. Let’s leave this graveyard of souls and head for the real action. Money. Fame. Power. Purpose. It’s all out there. We just have to find it.”


    Rejo’s head bobbed in agreement, his muscles twitching with anticipation. Unlike the Araki, however, Sonna had reached her limit and couldn’t handle it anymore.


    “You idiots! They will find you! And they will kill you! You’re fugitives to every known civilization now! The only ones who might help are the Federation—they’re rebelling against the three Empires. Maybe they’ll…” Sonna’s voice trailed off as she spoke, uncertain. She knew the Federation followed a higher power that had outlawed Dante’s existence, too.


    The human didn’t care. His hands were already on the controls, guiding them into the Lightsea. The Starsinger shuddered from the strain of the constant jumps, but it endured, built to Dante’s exact specifications.


    He used the monitors beside him to plot a path to the center of the galaxy, leading straight to the most powerful empire of them all: Rome. The nation, which controlled millions of planets and countless lives, had modeled its entire system after the ancient Roman Empire of Earth. It was yet another thing that frustrated the human to no end.


    While grinding his teeth, Dante finalized the chart. There would be many stops along the way—after all, with a ship like his, it would take years to reach the heart of the galaxy.


    The distant jumps would require repairs, which take time and money. In order to obtain the money, he would need jobs. Assassinations, robbery, smuggling, it didn’t matter to him as long as he didn’t harm children. His one rule. Still, he knew how hypocritical he was, but in the sea of stars, it was impossible to keep your innocence.


    A fleeting thought of his younger brother crossed his mind, but he pushed the sorrow aside and initiated the leap to their first destination. As the colors of the Lightsea warped around them, Dante didn’t bother convincing Sonna. He already knew she would join them.


    Sure, she could attempt to return to her organization, but if they uncovered what she had done…


    She would face dire consequences.


    Hidden organizations like hers did not take kindly to betrayals of such a magnitude.


    Sonna curled up in the corner, her knuckles white as they gripped the armrest. Fear gnawed at her, relentless, but the ship’s steady hum grounded her for the time being.


    Dante pitied her and wondered where all that confidence went, but she was the reason he was in this mess to begin with. If she hadn’t snuck onboard, if her Federation hadn’t been so determined to take down the Trinary Empires, the mission would have gone smoothly. Quick and easy.


    Finally, the man crossed the threshold into the Lightsea, the ship disappearing from sight. He stumbled, overwhelmed by a flurry of unnatural sensations. Dante had experienced this phenomenon countless times before, but this time was different. This time, he felt a connection to the Lightsea—a symbiotic link, as if he could draw power from it.


    Dante’s mind wandered for a moment, knowing he shouldn’t do it, but the allure was too strong. The act was stupid. He was infinitely stupid, and he knew it. Despite his feelings, he knew some things could not be stopped.


    Without meaning to, he siphoned the brilliance from the lights that danced through the sea. Currents of energy washed over his flesh, swirling through his bones, veins, and even neurons. He marveled at the surge of power flowing through him, a heady mix of awe and exhilaration.


    Droplets of clear water dribbled from his fingertips like sweat, but the fluid was most unquestionably not. Still, with the sensations rumbling through his body, Dante didn’t acknowledge such a thing.


    It differed completely from when that… thing had touched him. This didn’t feel wrong or evil. It felt... peaceful. Almost joyful. Tranquil, perhaps.


    While sinking deeper into the lights, he felt a sense of foreboding creeping over him, becoming stronger with each passing second. His breath quickened, and his heart pounded against his ribs like a frantic prisoner desperate for escape.


    He needed out. Now. How though? That was the question on his mind.


    Then he sensed it—a presence of unimaginable scale and power. It felt as though the very fabric of the universe had shifted its focus onto him. Panic surged through him, a fear he couldn’t contain without Nullify. His mind raced, trying to grasp the enormity of what he had awakened.


    This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    Though he tried, he couldn’t. Dante was, after all, just a man—connected to powers he was never meant to understand.


    In the void between realms, something stirred. An unblinking, pupil-less eye, vast and ancient, unfolded from the expanse of darkness. Its gaze fell on Dante, crushing him beneath the weight of a thousand suns. Like a blooming blossom, the eye unveiled more with each crossing instant.


    The second their gazes met, Dante’s mind folded. The sheer force of the presence’s awareness overwhelmed him. Unlike anything he had ever experienced, agony exploded in his skull, causing him to scream—a raw, primal sound. Despite the impossibility, the scream went nowhere, swallowed by the emptiness of the Lightsea. Something inside him, though, mitigated the impact, for the man was well aware he should have already died from the mere glimpse.


    Dante clutched his head, desperate to block out the eye’s piercing scrutiny, yet it was too late. The damage was done.


    When the ship finally dropped back into standard space, Dante’s right eye was ruptured, blood trailing down his face and dripping onto the floor. His eyes blurred, and he berated himself for his foolishness.


    Fuck. Fuck! I know how dangerous this is! What am I doing? Fuck!


    Dante struggled to believe how easily his willpower had crumbled, while slamming his fists against the desk and scraping off its contents. He’d fought off addiction time and time again with little to no help, believing his will was unbreakable. However, it broke into pieces within seconds.


    “Dante?”


    A scared, trembling voice reached Dante’s searing ears. He turned his head painfully, the pounding in his skull relentless, and saw Sonna standing there, genuinely concerned, as she asked, “Are you okay? What happened? You didn’t pull from the ‘Sea, did you?”


    Dante hesitated, unsure how to respond. More importantly, how should he respond? He couldn’t show weakness. Not to her. Not now.


    As long as he was dead...


    By slapping the side of his head, he snapped back to reality. Whatever that had been, it wasn’t his thinking. He wouldn’t waste such a valuable resource, and strangely, she seemed to care. Maybe it was some kind of na?ve innocence? He wasn’t sure yet. Numerous questions remained unanswered. Each one solved tacked on a dozen more.


    Why would she be so na?ve? Wasn’t she an operative? Is it all just a facade? Maybe. At the moment, he could not concentrate.


    The pain from his ruptured eye matched the warning signals blaring from the ship’s systems. It was their final jump for now, but Dante had no regrets. They needed to distance themselves and the incident as much as possible. It would buy them time. Not forever if someone truly wanted him—Seers could sniff out almost anything—but for now, it would do.


    “I looked at something I shouldn’t have. I’ll be fine,” Dante muttered, dismissing the pain. “More importantly, we need to clean up the ship. A repair team won’t come in with bodies lying everywhere.”


    The human started dragging a corpse from the Skull, dismissing his injuries.


    Rejo joined him without a word as if this were routine, while Sonna shot Dante a glance of half frustration, half fear, saying, “You’re going to get yourself killed taking risks like that so soon. Not even Praetors meet the Hidden without preparation. And clean up? How? We’re in orbit. How are we supposed to get rid of these bodies without being seen?”


    The Araki laughed, hefting two bodies with ease and adding, “We’ve got an incinerator for things ‘ike this. Sometimes, it’s better to ‘urn the merchandise. Works for ‘odies, too. C’mon, help.”


    Sonna groaned, pulling herself out of her chair and gingerly wrapping her hands around a corpse’s leg. It was clear she had done nothing like this before. Her role was not to get her hands dirty—she was supposed to work in the shadows. At least, that is what she told everyone. This?


    Her stomach lurched. Before they started moving the bodies, she vomited twice times. When Rejo handed her a mop and bucket, Sonna stared at them in disbelief while Dante remained lost in his own thoughts, focused on the sensation he had felt earlier. Nausea and agony warred with his pride.


    Sonna shook her head, desperate, “No. I’m not cleaning blood and guts. No way.”


    Sadness flickered across Rejo’s face before he turned to Dante. The man of his focus didn’t even open his eyes, already seated at the console as communications came in from the planet below. The bluish-green orb was Crislend, a planet owned by a Baron of the Empire of Ostacean. This far out, though, Ostacean itself had scant power, not to mention it being near the Roman Empire’s border. Most responsibility fell into the Baron’s hands.


    “Someone handle it. I’m busy,” Dante muttered, barely acknowledging their requests. “The comms need answering. We’re travelers. Permits are under the desk. The ship’s signature is Sing-Song-67.”


    Once he finished speaking, his brows furrowed as he desperately searched within himself for the stream that had sent his body back in time before.


    Rejo and Sonna exchanged a glance only a few feet apart. The former’s eyes shifted to the monitors, his face contorting into a grimace as he spoke, “I’ll clean ‘he blood. You ‘andle the talking, little one.”


    For the first time, Sonna laughed—a slight, unexpected sound. She pointed at Rejo as she walked toward the desk Dante had mentioned and said, “Are you scared of talking to people? That’s hilarious! Maybe you two aren’t so bad after all.”


    While Sonna worked at the monitors, Rejo was already cleaning, muttering to himself about Weren and their tiny heads. Sonna glanced at Dante, focused and distant, before shaking her head. Two companions might have been presumptuous.


    While feeling her eyes on him, Dante opened his own for a split second, shooting a glare at Sonna, which served to deepen her worries. He shut them again, refocusing on the connection he now felt with the Lightsea.


    Before, he’d triggered it by accident. Now, he had to do it intentionally. Dante was a man who seized every opportunity, and this one was massive, for it would change everything. In order to do so, he poured all of himself into it.


    Nevertheless... he couldn’t find peace. Minutes crawled by as more blood seeped from his wounds. Fortunately, Sonna had already secured their safe passage to the planet and its megacity. Rejo was still cleaning, but Dante finally stood, stumbling to where he’d hidden his supply of Nullify. He felt Sonna’s eyes on him, her brewing anger still palpable.


    Self-loathing coursed through Dante, but he needed to fix his eye without draining his already low funds. Nullify was pricey, but not as lavish as a new organ. Furthermore, he had been expecting a massive payout for this job.


    As such, he was damn near broke. There would be no expensive or high-quality tools. Dante would have to work with whatever he could get from a general store or some other street shop.


    So, he pulled out a syringe, lamenting how few doses he had left and hating that he needed to use it at all. A junkie. That’s what he was. What he would always be. Despite the thoughts in his mind, he still yearned to be more. So much more, and that thought honed his mind as the pitch-black liquid sank into his veins.


    His mind sharpened, not just from the Nullify clearing the noise from his hunger but also from the clarity it brought. Dante found a strange peace as he became a conduit for something far beyond himself.


    He’s seen many of them before. Hundreds, in fact. Seafarers. Psions. Tidewalkers. Windbreakers, Cultivators. Seers. Anomalies. They were those touched by extra-dimensional powers, by the Lightsea, one of the weaves that hold reality together. There were many names for the same thing, as Designations only affected how their powers manifested.


    Dante had always been cautious around them, like walking on glass barefoot. One wrong move, and it was game over. Sure, he had killed a few who had gone too far, collecting bounties on their heads, but he had spent weeks or months meticulously planning those hits.


    He would only go after the bounties on the weak or new ones, never the strong. That’d be suicide. His targets were those who had not yet fully mastered their abilities or were without mentors.


    A crackle of lightning ripped through Dante’s senses, snapping his eyes open. Instant relief flooded him as his vision returned, clear through both eyes once again. He tried to stand, but collapsed back into his chair with a trembling gasp. Darkness swept over him, pulling him under.


    By the depths...


    Footsteps rushed toward him, and then hands gripped his face. A sharp slap followed, along with a distant voice shouting, “Wake up! What did I tell you? Don’t touch the Lightsea! You haven’t been trained! You’ll kill yourself by using your Stigmata!”


    The pain jolted Dante back into consciousness, Sonna’s tiny eyes boring holes into him. Another slap forced him to blink, his mind coming back online.


    “What were you thinking? So fucking stupid,” Sonna spat, glaring at him. In response, Dante shook his head. He had thought it through.


    Even with weakness spreading through his body, a sensation echoing everywhere and nowhere all at once, he said calmly, “No. It wasn’t stupid. It was logical. I needed to recover. Who knows what effect the travel had on me? Besides, there’s someone on Crislend I need to meet. An old friend. I need to be healed to see him.”


    A jittering chuckle escaped Rejo as the Araki sat across from Dante, disbelief etched across his face, “What do you ‘ean? You don’t ‘ave friends. Besides me, of ‘ourse.”


    “Okay then, an acquaintance. Regardless, we need to get to him. We need a new crew, and he’s the best-damned engineer on this side of the Wings. Only... there’s a small catch,” Dante said as an uncertain glimmer flickered his eyes.


    Sonna’s face fell as she seized Dante’s plan. Rejo groaned, aware of the precise direction Dante’s plan was taking.


    “Not ‘im. Come on. You’ve told me ‘bout him! You ‘ate him! No. Not Archimedes. Anyone but that nervous ‘reck,” Rejo protested, his concern growing as Dante stood and holstered the pistols he’d left on the desk. With a resounding exhale, he shuffled toward the exit, waving for the others to follow.


    “I don’t hate him. I just found him difficult to work with and... It hurt to see him and be unable to free him without getting him killed. Though, I’m sure he’s matured by now. Got sentenced for hacking into Crislend’s banking system. Oh, and Sonna? Find me a cane, will you? It’s hard to walk right now, and I need to project some bravado. Starsinger, take us to port,” Dante stated as he continued toward the exit, voice guiding the ship’s descent and his crew.


    Sonna ran after him a moment later, furious, and swiped one of his precious syringes in spite. Rejo was left with finding a cane. He eventually picked up a long, bent pipe from something unrecognizable. With a shrug, he brought it to the exit hatch.


    Along the way, Sonna kept shouting at Dante, demanding answers, but he shut her down each time. She knew the truth—if she didn’t help him, she’d be dead. They both knew it. Under her breath, she cursed him but still followed. Still, she had one question as she asked, “Why? Why do you need a crew? What’s your actual plan?”


    The hatch hissed open while she spoke, delivering them onto the surface of a new planet, with the ghostly ship behind them, now emptied of life and in dire need of repairs. Bloody stains still littered the insides, though none but these three would ever witness them. Above and away from the stench of death, starships streaked through the sky, their shadows casting fleeting darkness over the sunlit world.


    After inhaling the planet’s concrete scent with an imperceptible smile, Dante answered her sincerely, “Explore. Learn. Excavate. Get stronger. I don’t know. I just… want to do more than whatever I have been doing. There is so much out there. So much that we know nothing about. I want to learn it all.”


    I’ll also find out what happened to my father. What turned him into... that thing. What made him… vanish.


    Dante had countless wishes and goals that he wanted to accomplish in his mind. There were so many he didn’t even know which to truly start with, only those that he had to at some point.


    Sonna laughed, clearly not taking him seriously. Regardless, Dante didn’t care. He strode forward, leaning on his makeshift cane as they stepped onto a planetary dock meant for out-of-system guests. Starships soared overhead, blotting out the sun and filling the air with deafening noise.


    As Dante felt the old-fashioned revolver hidden under his belt and another tucked in his shirt pocket, a sense of comfort washed over him. He glanced at the watch on his wrist—a habit passed down from his father—and mentally ticked off the time.


    Time to get a move on. I’ve got a soldier and a spy. Well, a terrible spy, but she’ll do. Next is the engineer. What’s after that? A doctor, maybe. I know one here, but she’s...


    Shit. She would be perfect here if I got her to join. She knows the planet well, too. Probably has connections in Lightjar knowing her ‘businesses’. But... she''s a walking nightmare.


    Dante’s mind drifted over the possibilities as they passed through customs in the Starport. His guns cleared without issue from the flash of a Judge’s Juror badge. It wasn’t real—at least not in the strictest sense—but it worked well enough. The Roman Empire’s executioner-slash-investigators could move freely, even across other empires, as long as it was on official business and a war wasn’t brewing. The three were quickly waved through, despite the badge being only a servant’s rank.


    Few were willing to copy such items. Fewer do it in a way that would appear authentic.


    Fifteen minutes later, the three of them were walking down a crowded street in the megacity’s heart. Flashing lights and endless advertisements fought for attention amidst the deafening noise. Waves of people surged around them, reducing the trio to mere specks in the overwhelming flow of the city. Rejo appeared uneasy, shifting uncomfortably, while Sonna shrank into herself, beyond out of her element.


    On the other hand, Dante strode with poise, the cane not hindering him at all, his shoulders squared, pupils dilated. His sharp blue eyes locked onto a nearby general store, craving the chemicals and supplies he knew would be inside. A plan was already in motion. Crislend just didn’t know it yet.


    However, whether it was Dante’s or someone else’s was to be determined.