The Golden Lion Empire's claim stretched across an entire galaxy. At first glance, it resembled an untouched frontier an unowned expanse filled with countless worlds, rich in ores and untouched by life. Yet under their rule, nothing remained idle.
Every barren planet had been reshaped into a living mothership, its crust hollowed and reforged into steel and runic circuitry. Suns themselves were bound into colossal energy reactors, fueling fleets that dwarfed the imagination. The pinnacle of their engineering was a Flagship Mothership, a war colossus two hundred fifty kilometers in length, forged by combining five motherships into a single entity.
Its frame was shaped like a vast crossed X, each arm bearing a massive cannon aligned to the cardinal points. At the center, a triple-mounted energy cannon pulsed with restrained annihilation, capable of shattering entire fleets in a single barrage. Extra resources gathered from stripped worlds were diverted into the endless production of mechs, cruisers, and war machines.
While resource fleets worked tirelessly, two figures moved with quiet purpose through the shadows of war Lucivar Graves and Erina Shima, Overseers of the dreaded Abyss Prison. Both were infamous even among immortals, granted authority to unleash their cruelty when the Emperor so decreed. This time, they had been given leave to hunt freely within the vampire-controlled galaxy.
They brought with them the Ark Prison Dreadnaught, a vessel built to suppress even Absolutes. Now cloaked in perfect stealth, it stalked the edges of the battlefield like a predator. One by one, vampires vanished from the chaos of war dragged into captivity before their allies realized what had happened.
Among drifting asteroid belts, Erina Shima's whip lashed through the void like a serpent of shadow and light. With each strike, she coiled an Eternal-ranked vampire in her grasp and ripped them from the battlefield, consigning them to the Ark Prison's depths. A dwarven Eternal, locked in a duel with a vampire, froze in shock as his foe simply vanished before his eyes.
Lucivar Graves worked differently. Cloaked illusions twisted through the stars, baiting vampires into false retreats or luring them toward phantom allies. In their confusion, entire squads of vampire soldiers were swallowed into the Ark Prison without a sound. Both Overseers avoided Absolutes for now, hunting only the lesser Eternals and their legions. Their orders were clear: bleed the vampires quietly, without stirring too much attention.
Elsewhere, war raged in brutal earnest. Dwarven fleets pressed their advantage with overwhelming numbers battlecruisers, destroyers, and frigates swarming against vampire formations. Ion cannons and laser barrages ripped apart bio-ships, their regenerative shells crumbling under relentless fire.
In the heart of the battlefield, Absolutes clashed, their duels lit by titanic arcs of power. Now and then, stray ion barrages cut across their paths, injuring even these near-invincible beings. The dwarves exploited every weakness striking down wounded vampire Absolutes with ruthless efficiency.
The vampire race, reliant on regeneration and their bio-armor, found themselves outmatched. Their shields were thin, their bodies resilient but not invulnerable. Against concentrated fleets, they were forced into desperate stands, often overwhelmed by sheer numbers and precision tactics.
Even so, the vampires did not fall easily. Their regeneration allowed them to rise again and again, wading through fire to strike back at their enemies. As long as they were not surrounded and crushed by the combined might of multiple Absolutes and fleets, they remained dangerous bloody predators fighting to the last breath.
Far from the battlefield, in the Imperial Palace of the Golden Lion Empire, Emperor Theodore Lionheart sat in quiet discussion with the Observer. The chamber was still, the hum of distant engines barely audible through the walls.
"Why were we transferred into another universe?" Theodore asked, his calm voice hiding the weight of concern beneath.
The Observer's expression carried no alarm, only a faint, knowing smile."Someone attempted something absurd," he answered, "a plan that failed before it could take shape. But failure left its mark and you were moved here."
He gazed outward, beyond the walls, as though speaking not only to Theodore but to the universe itself. "This universe is not like the one you left behind. It is vast greater than ten thousand galaxies, and still expanding. Your old home was reaching its end, its growth exhausted, its breath shallow. This place, however, is alive… and still growing."
Theodore's eyes narrowed slightly. "And if a higher power intervenes?"
The Observer's voice deepened, carrying the weight of certainty that silenced even the air itself. "When higher powers stir, none may interfere while I am here. As long as they are not foolish enough to let their greed turn this good universe into ruin, your people will be safe. Their folly would only bring about their own destruction."
The words settled like an eternal law, undeniable and absolute. In that silence, the Golden Lion Empire prepared for the storms to come.