The Light Empire was, according to the official holy books, the best place in all creation. It was the place where King Void Flare—the Supreme God, the God-Slayer, the Golden-Eyed God, the one whose name was forbidden in other lands—had thrown out the old, weak Heaven and set up his own, much better kingdom.
This meant the main city was not just a city; it was a huge, shining place made of white gold and crystal towers, guarded by Invincible Walls so strong they could handle a world-ending force, if anything ever came close enough to try. Outside these walls were the 20 Big Empires, and past those, the 230 Mini-Empires. These lands were ruled by god-kings and packed with so much military might that the rest of the universe looked like a small, forgotten, medieval lake.
And yet, even though he was the Prince of this impossible empire in the year 23456, Simon Flare was, simply put, very, very bored.
He was sixteen years old. In the mortal world—the small, quick civilizations the Empire barely noticed—sixteen was the age of heroes, first kisses, and deciding your own life. In the Light Empire, sixteen meant he was a troublesome child. His oldest sister, Princess Aeris, who could change the path of planets with a single sigh, was only 120 years older than him.
Simon sat in the Grand Hall, the heart of the Empire. The air held enough raw power to vaporize mountains. Thirty thousand Golden Knights, each strong enough to defeat an entire Big Empire King, stood waiting, their armor bright with contained god energy.
Sitting on the celestial throne—a chair made from the pieces of the original twelve gods—was his father, Void Flare. The Supreme God looked like a bored, extremely handsome teen, thin and golden-eyed, dressed in a very casual black jacket and white T-shirt. It looked completely out of place against the background of eternal fantasy. He was scrolling through endless data screens in the air, sometimes complaining about the latest problem in the 17th Mini-Empire.
Simon was watching his three oldest brothers: Valerius, Marcus, and Kaelen. They were hundreds of years old and had powers far beyond Simon's dreams. Their main problem was that they were profoundly, universally bored. They saw Simon not as a rival, but as a fascinating distraction, and the Supreme God often paid Simon more attention than all of them combined, simply because Simon was an easier target for amusement.
"Honestly, Simon," Valerius, who could order the 20 Big Empire Kings, said slowly, though his golden eyes held a glint of cruel sport. "You're sixteen. Don't you feel like you should actually do something? To prove how strong you are?"
"He's right," Marcus agreed, a hint of a sneer on his perfect face. "You have the blood of the God-Slayer. You should be announcing your plan, not just polishing that boring Light Sword."
Kaelen leaned closer, lowering his voice. "Think of the honor, little brother. Imagine standing before Father, declaring you will be the next ruler. That's the Flare way. It shows you have guts."
Simon's sixteen-year-old brain, already overwhelmed by the feelings of a young demi-god, instantly swelled with pride. They are right! I'm being lazy! He quickly checked his own power level: Strength: Normal (for a prince). Fly speed: 20km/s. It was terrible compared to them, but it was all he had!
Simon took a deep, shaky breath, straightened his simple clothes, and marched onto the shining floor.
"Father! King Void Flare!" Simon's voice sounded weak and high-pitched in the massive room built for mighty speeches. "I want to tell the court something important!"
The huge hall became completely silent. The 30,000 Golden Knights did not move. Even Void Flare stopped his scrolling, looking down with a golden eye that held the tiredness of infinite age.
"I know I am young," Simon declared, his heart pounding with reckless, silly courage. "But I swear, I promise, that one day, I will become strong enough to beat you in a fight, and I will take your place as the Supreme God of the Light Empire!"
A cold, amused silence filled the court.
Valerius, Marcus, and Kaelen exchanged looks so quickly only a god could notice them: satisfied, delighted smiles. They practically shook with amusement at the success of their prank, waiting to see how Father would handle the situation.
The many wives and consorts across the hall didn't even try to hide their feelings. There was a huge, shared sigh of complete, worn-out defeat.
Simon's mother, the First Queen, a being of terrifying power, stayed still. Her face, usually a picture of kind light, smoothed into an expression of intense, tired disbelief. (-_-)
"Oh, no," her thoughts echoed across the royal mind-link, a silent wave only the God-Slayer could truly hear. "He's barely sixteen. His nearest sister is 120 years older and can smash moons with a whisper. He's just a baby."
Void Flare, the Supreme God who knew everything, saw everything, and felt almost nothing, kept leaning back on his throne. He didn't smile, frown, or blink. His look was one of deep, universal boredom(-_-)that made all other emotions seem small.
After a silence that felt like the time between the start and end of the universe, he shrugged, looking back at his data screen.
"Fine. Just do it. Whenever you're ready, son. I'll be here."
Simon, feeling great about his easy win, turned to march out of the hall, ready to start his quest for infinite power.
He managed two dramatic steps.
Then, a force stronger than a thousand heroes charging at once suddenly stopped him. Void Flare did not move from his throne. He simply reached out a finger, and Simon was instantly teleported back to the front, held up by a single, golden beam of light grabbing the collar of his t-shirt.
"Going where, exactly?" Void Flare sighed. "To find a stick slightly bigger than your Light Sword? Simon, listen up: you are a baby. In the mortal world, sure, a sixteen-year-old can hunt, train, and maybe even die a good death. Here? In the Empire of Light, where a quick thought can wipe out a solar system? You are an infant."
With another, slightly stronger flash of light, Simon was gently put into the waiting arms of his mother, the First Queen. "Here, dearest," Void Flare said, ending the whole thing. "Keep him busy with some god-level sewing or whatever little things you do with him. Tell him to come back when he stops thinking 20km/s is 'fast.'"
The three elder Princes, Valerius, Marcus, and Kaelen, tried to sneak away, hoping to disappear into the crystal walls. They were not fast enough.
"You three," the First Queen said, her voice now dangerously quiet, yet carrying the destructive power of a falling star.
The three Princes—each of whom led armies bigger than half a galaxy—instantly fell to their knees, bowing their invincible heads until they touched the floor.
"Why are you teaching bad habits to my precious child, Simon?" Her golden eyes, much colder and sharper than the King's bored look, focused on them. "Don't you understand? He is a little kid. Act like older brothers! I know you are bored because there is no one left to fight with this huge army. But if even a single scratch happens to Simon Flare while he is out on one of your 'challenges,' you three are dead! You want something to do? Your father is so bored he used to play tricks on regular people! You find a useful thing to do with your thousands of years of boredom, or I will find one for you—and I promise, it will involve cleaning the 230 Mini-Empires by hand!"
Simon, safe in the terrifying hug of his mother, watched his centuries-old, god-level brothers shake with real fear. He realized that the challenge wasn't just dangerous; it was impossible because his parents would never allow it.
He had to get out, and he had to start small. He needed a secret quest, far away from the suffocating, world-breaking love of his divine family.