The Golden Lion Empire had entered this new universe as strangers.Their fleets hovered in silence, their banners unknown, their strength unseen. To the Immortals themselves, the revelation was humbling: here, their name carried no weight. None of the surrounding civilizations knew the lions had awoken, nor did they realize that predators far greater than themselves now watched from the shadows.
It was the Emperor's will that the first step not be war, but knowledge. And so, James Furn the Grand Councilor of Diplomacy was dispatched once more, a single envoy in the vastness of chaos.
The western stars were ablaze. Here, the Dwarven Civilization reigned worlds carved from iron and fire, mountains inverted into colossal citadels, fleets of heavy ships bristling with cannons and engines. Their society was martial, industrial, pragmatic, and proud.
James Furn's diplomatic flotilla approached slowly, shields lowered, signals clear. For long hours no response came. Dwarven patrols circled them, scanning, weighing, suspicious. At last, a channel opened, and a grim-faced Dwarven commander appeared.
"You fly under no banner we know," the dwarf growled, eyes narrowing. "What strangers enter our warspace?"
James bowed slightly. His black-gold coat gleamed under the chamber lights, his voice calm."I am James Furn, envoy of the Golden Lion Empire. We are newcomers to this universe. We come not to claim, but to speak. Our Emperor bids us extend words of trade and culture, that we may learn of one another before we judge one another."
The Dwarven commander muttered into his comms. Minutes passed, tense as stone before a quake. Finally, the order came James was permitted to dock at a fortress world.
What James witnessed as he entered Dwarven space was war but not desperation.
The Vampires swarmed like vermin. Their fleets darted fast, thousands of thin, crimson ships like daggers in the dark. They spread across sectors like plague, attacking weak colonies, draining populations, fleeing before reinforcements.
But against the Dwarves, their disease had limits.
For every hundred Vampire vessels, the Dwarves answered with fleets of armored behemoths, bristling with cannons and clad in alloys forged from ores no plague could corrode. Where Vampires swarmed, Absolutes of the Dwarves descended titanic beings clad in runed armor, wielding axes that split ships in half.
The Vampires had speed, hunger, and cunning. The Dwarves had power, discipline, and numbers of Absolutes.
It was not victory the Vampires sought it was survival, feeding, the desperate need to consume blood and move on. Against the Dwarves, they gnawed but never swallowed.
James noted it all in silence. "A disease indeed," he murmured. "Annoying. Persistent. Dangerous to the weak. But not fatal to the strong."
On the fortress world, James was brought into a grand hall of black steel and glowing runes. There, Dwarven high lords gathered scarred, armored, eyes sharp with suspicion.
The first lord barked, "Golden Lion, you say? Hmph. Never heard of you. You're new. Too new. Strangers at our borders in a time of war. Give us one reason not to grind your envoy ships into scrap."
James did not flinch. His words fell like polished steel. "Because we do not come as conquerors. We come as witnesses. Your war is plain to see, and your strength speaks louder than threats. But war is costly. The Golden Lion Empire has resources metals of lesser importance to us, but vital to armies such as yours. We offer trade. In exchange, we seek knowledge, culture, and understanding of this universe we now share."
The hall fell quiet. Dwarves whispered among themselves. One slammed his fist on the table. "Trade, you say? And what do you want in return? Weapons? Ores? Secrets?"
James smiled faintly. "Only that which is unimportant to you. We do not beg for your lifeblood. Give us the stones you would discard. The metals too common for your forges. In return, you will find the Golden Lion Empire a supplier of abundance. For now, we seek not dominance, but friendship."
It was shrewd. The Dwarves respected shrewdness.
At last, the eldest lord grunted. "Fine. Not alliance. Not kinship. But exchange. You supply. We accept. Know this, stranger: in this universe, there are no allies. Only powers who have not yet chosen to strike each other."
James bowed. "That is enough."
As days passed in the fortress world, James learned more.
The Vampires were not the only enemy. To the galactic north spread the World Tree Empire a civilization of Elves unlike any James had recorded before. They were not serene forest-dwellers, but fanatical conquerors, fueled by a living, galaxy-spanning tree whose roots spread like chains across the stars.
The Elves poured forth fleets by the millions, their ships sleek, living constructs of bark and light. Their armies dropped Mechs like seeds, scattering them across planets. Once rooted, these mechs grew into towering war-machines, claiming entire worlds as branches of the World Tree.
The Dwarves held their ground, but the war was endless. Their Absolutes cut down thousands, their fleets shattered entire forests of ships, yet still the Elves came, expanding like wildfire, driven by madness or divine hunger.
The Dwarves fought on two fronts: the gnawing plague of Vampires, and the ravenous expansion of the Elves.
No allies came to their aid. None existed in this fractured universe. Every civilization stood alone, their banners raised only for themselves. Chaos reigned, and blood was the language of diplomacy.
James observed, recorded, and traded. His flotilla delivered crates of lesser Golden Lion alloys copper, zinc, brass, unneeded in the Empire's divine forges, but treasured by Dwarves for ammunition and plating. In return, he accepted maps, histories, and minor cultural relics. Small gestures, but important.
He did not reveal the true might of the Golden Lion Empire. Not yet.
When James Furn returned to the Main Mothership, he carried more than metals and stories. He carried a warning.
Before the Emperor and the full council, he bowed and spoke:
"Majesty, Empresses, Lords of the Empire. I have walked among the Dwarves. They do not know us yet, nor do they care to. Their world is fire and iron. They fight wars on two fronts against Vampires, who spread like plague, and against Elves of the World Tree Empire, who expand without restraint.
The Vampires are dangerous, but weak in Absolutes. Their spread is swift, their hunger endless, but their strength is shallow. The Dwarves hold them at bay.
The greater threat lies in the Elves. They send millions of fleets, mechs by the tens of millions, rooting themselves in galaxies and consuming them in the name of their World Tree. They expand like madness, and they will not stop.
This universe is not ruled by order, Majesty. It is ruled by chaos. There are no alliances. Only wars. Every civilization stands alone."
Silence followed. Then Theodore's eyes narrowed, his voice calm as the void. "Then let it be so. The Golden Lion Empire will not yet bare its fangs. We will watch. We will learn. We will prepare. And when the time comes, this universe shall learn that lions do not hunt as prey but as kings."
The council bowed. The path was set.