All eyes were on Kaiser the Second. His words were met with silence, a silence that carried weight. Then, as he looked past the crew, his gaze fell upon the face of his father standing behind Oscar. Suddenly, a rush of memories overwhelmed him — faint, golden memories of the few good times he'd shared with Kaiser the First.
The world had been simpler then. The corridors of the Imperial Palace glowed golden beneath the twin suns of Baraka, and the banners of House Barak hung from ceilings so high they seemed to brush the light itself. He could still smell the polished stone of the Hall of Triumphs — the scent of oil and steel from the ceremonial guards marching in perfect rhythm.
And there, at the heart of it all, was him —Kaiser the First.The man the galaxy once called The Peacemaker of the Stars.
The memory played like an echo: his father walking beside him, his steps calm and measured. The boy tried to keep up, his small boots clacking against the polished floor.
"Do you know why we wear this crest?" his father asked him that day, pointing to the golden sigil on his chest.
"Because it's our family's mark," the boy answered proudly.
The emperor smiled faintly. "It is more than that. It is the mark of balance — of light and fire, of reason and wrath. A ruler must know both… but never let one consume the other."
He had knelt to his son's height and placed a hand on his shoulder."One day, when I am gone, you will carry this mark. The suns will still rise, the wars will still burn, and the people will still look to the throne for guidance. Promise me, Kaiser — promise that when the moment comes, you will be the sun that guides them, not the fire that burns them."
Then, as his senses returned to the present, a flicker of light shimmered through the air — the projection of Zoma appeared, emerging from Bjorn's DTI. She had been listening all along, even as they entered the palace.
Her sudden presence caught Kaiser the Second by surprise. He had thought the device that projected her had been confiscated long ago. She looked straight into his eyes, and he found himself unable to look away. Then she spoke, her voice sharp yet calm.
"Emperor Kaiser Baraka the Second," she said. "It's nice to meet you once again — at the exact time I told you we would."
Kaiser stood silent, her words echoing in his mind. She had warned him of this very confrontation once before, but he had dismissed it. Now, suddenly, everything began to make sense — the defeat at Ohara, the retreat, the collapse of his fleets. She had spoken of these events long before they happened. And now she stood before him once again, a ghost made of light, with a smirk carved across her artificial face.
Kaiser's voice trembled with restrained anger."You are a machine. How could you have known all these things before they happened? I want answers!"
Zoma began to climb the steps to the throne, her movements steady and deliberate. As she neared him, her tone remained calm."Emperor, do you know what will be written in the books of history about this tragic day?"
When she reached the top, she stood directly in front of him. Her glowing projection cast its light over Kaiser's face, making his expression unreadable. He said nothing — he could not.
Then Zoma leaned slightly closer, her voice soft yet chilling."They will call it the Day of Judgment."
Her words sent a shiver down his spine. To stand there — in that place of power, on the steps of his ancestors — and hear such a phrase spoken so calmly, so precisely, by a machine… it was something beyond humiliation.
Yet there she was, the creation of some long-forgotten maker, walking where only emperors had walked, and then — she sat.Right on the Imperial Throne.
Her projected form crossed its legs and rested her head on one hand, studying Kaiser and Veyra from above. The light of her hologram danced across the marble floor, as though mocking the sacred place she now occupied.
Then a voice broke the silence."My son," said Kaiser the First, his voice old but firm, "come down here."
Kaiser the Second turned to face him again. His empire was gone, his fleets destroyed, his pride shattered. Even the throne he once stood upon with absolute authority was now occupied by an artificial being.
He stepped down. Each step grew heavier, slower — the weight of loss pressing harder with every movement — until he reached the final stair, where his father stood waiting.
Kaiser the First stepped forward and, without a word, embraced his son — the son he had not seen in more than a decade. Tears welled in his aged eyes as he held him close.
Perhaps it was the moment, or perhaps years of buried emotion finally breaking through, but Kaiser the Second began to cry as well. The man who had ruled through fear and conquest, who had stood unshaken through war, now wept in his father's arms — the same father he had once banished to the ends of the labyrinth.
The old emperor's hand brushed gently through his son's hair."You did well, my son," he whispered. "Now it's time to let go."
A sharp pain pierced Kaiser's chest.He gasped — confused — as blood began to drip down onto the marble floor. A small dagger had found its way into his heart. His legs weakened, his strength vanished, and he fell into his father's arms, the same arms that had once lifted him as a child.
Blood spread across the white stone as they sank to the ground together.
Veyra rushed forward, her heart breaking at the sight. As she reached them, the realization struck like lightning. Tears fell from her eyes, landing on Kaiser's pale cheeks.
The emperor's life was fading fast. Blood filled his mouth as he turned his head toward his father, still kneeling beside him.
With a faint voice, he whispered,"Father… thank you for giving me life."
The old emperor touched his son's face, wiping away one last tear. His voice trembled, yet carried the dignity of a ruler and the love of a father."I was always proud of you," he said.
A faint smile crossed Kaiser's lips — the first in many years.Then he turned weakly toward Veyra, his most loyal companion, his voice soft and fading.
"My dear Veyra… I'm sorry I couldn't keep the promise I made to you. But thank you — from the bottom of my dying heart — for always being by my side."
Those were the last words of Kaiser Baraka the Second.He died in the arms of Veyra Solane, his most trusted aide, under the watchful eyes of his father and the silent witnesses of the Tartarusios crew.
Before the crew had entered the throne room, Kaiser the Second had ordered all guards to stand down. "No matter what happens," he had commanded, "you are not to intervene."
Now, those same guards — proud soldiers of the once-mighty Baraken Empire — wept openly as they watched their emperor's life fade away on Veyras embrace.
And thus, on May 8th, 4832, Emperor Kaiser Baraka the Second was declared dead.The empire's banners hung still, its ships silenced, its ruler gone.
From that day forward, the event would be known throughout the galaxy as The Day of Judgment.