The envoy of the Woltein Empire wasted no time. His shuttle streaked through the void, engines blazing, tearing across the borders of his people's territory. The encounter with the Fox Empress weighed heavily on him, the words still echoing in his mind:
"There are scouts in my galaxy too and they are not mine."
That admission had been genuine, he was certain. Vulferia Vulpes had been surprised, perhaps even rattled. If she spoke truth, then both the foxes and the wolves were being watched by an unseen hand. A hand that could belong only to a new Type IV Civilization.
The envoy's jaw tightened as he stood before the towering gates of the Imperial Palace. Guards in gleaming black armor recognized his seal and wordlessly opened the way. Their spears crossed briefly in salute, then parted, allowing him passage.
He was led swiftly through the marble corridors, past columns etched with the history of the Woltein bloodline, until at last the grand doors to the throne chamber loomed before him.
The guards pushed them open with a rumble.
Within sat Emperor Wolfar Wolfein, the Alpha of Alphas, his figure broad and commanding upon a throne carved of obsidian and silver. His golden eyes gleamed beneath a mane of iron-grey fur, and when he turned his gaze upon the envoy, it was like the weight of gravity itself.
The envoy knelt low, his voice steady though his heart thundered.
"Your Majesty, I bring urgent report. There is… evidence of another Type IV Civilization moving among the stars."
A silence fell across the hall. Ministers and generals looked up, ears flicking, their attention snapping sharp as blades.
"Explain," the Emperor commanded. His voice rumbled like distant thunder.
The envoy recounted everything. His journey to the Vulpes court. The accusation he had leveled at Empress Vulferia. The Empress's genuine surprise, her insistence that she too had destroyed scout probes she could not identify. The description of those probes, which matched exactly the ones destroyed within Woltein space.
"They were not lying," the envoy finished, bowing low. "The foxes are being watched as we are. The source is not theirs. It is… another."
Wolfar Wolfein sat in silence, his claws tapping against the arm of his throne. Then his fangs bared in a sharp grin.
"So," he rumbled, "a new hunter prowls the forest." His eyes glowed brighter. "Very well. If they think to stalk wolves, let us show them the price."
He rose, the full height of his frame towering over the chamber. Ministers and generals bowed their heads in deference.
"Summon the records of our chaos deployments," the Emperor ordered. "Show me the latest reports."
An officer rushed forward, activating a hololith. A galaxy shimmered in the air, marked by shifting sigils of conflict.
"Majesty," the officer said, "the latest chaos operation was directed toward the Elven civilizations. Orc hosts were released two cycles ago to destabilize their borders."
"Good," Wolfar murmured. "And the result?"
The officer hesitated. "Unexpected, Majesty. The Elven Empress reports… the dwarves have held against the assault. Not only that they are receiving support. Another force intervened."
Wolfar's golden eyes narrowed. "Support? From who?"
"The name given, Majesty… is the Golden Lion Empire."
The chamber rippled with confusion. None had heard the name before. Generals exchanged uneasy glances, ministers whispered hurriedly.
"Golden Lion," Wolfar repeated slowly, tasting the words like meat on his tongue. "Describe them."
The officer swallowed. "Reports claim they resemble… humans. But their exact nature is unknown. Their envoy came with immense carriers, far larger than any recorded for a human fleet. Their weapons and technology are advanced, but unfamiliar."
Wolfar's mind churned. Humans. Always the humans. The World Trade Union had long been a thorn in the paw of the great empires. Cunning, opportunistic, hiding their claws until they struck.
"A distraction," the Emperor muttered. "It must be. A splinter of the Trade Union, perhaps. A different human faction, playing at empire-building."
The generals growled in agreement. "It would fit their nature, Majesty. The Union is always scheming."
But still, something gnawed at Wolfar. He sank back into his throne, claws drumming on stone. The envoy's words lingered: a new Type IV Civilization.
The Fox Empress had spoken truth. Unknown probes, scouts no one claimed. Now, this Golden Lion Empire, appearing from nowhere, interfering in conflicts at the very moment chaos was sown. Too perfect. Too precise.
"Humans…" Wolfar murmured. "Or something else?"
His gaze sharpened, a predator scenting a rival.
"They call themselves Golden Lions," he said at last. "But names are masks. The truth… the truth is that we know nothing. If they are not of the Trade Union, then perhaps they are not human at all."
The chamber hushed, every minister and general staring at their Emperor.
"Watch them," Wolfar ordered. "If they seek to meddle in our chaos, they will reveal their nature soon enough. And when they do, we will be ready."
The court roared its assent.
Yet the truth was far beyond even Wolfar's speculation. The Golden Lion Empire was no fragment of the World Trade Union, nor a rogue human faction playing at sovereignty. They were something else entirely.
Not mortal. Not bound by the old order.
They were an Immortal Race, a newcomer to the universe, a civilization rising in silence and soon to shake the stars.