Throne of Wings and Fire
A sharp noise cracked through the smoky air behind him.
Rio spun instinctively, hands ready to reach for weapons he no longer had.
"No! I'm not a spy—I just got here… I followed a wave of terror leaking from Earth."
His eyes narrowed.
(Wait a second… this isn't the same guy from before... is it?)
From the haze emerged another winged figure—taller, leaner, and far more composed. Midnight feathers rustled gently behind him, stirred by a wind Rio couldn't feel. His eyes, obsidian-ringed and ancient, seemed to see past skin and sinew.
"So… you're a former Earthling," the figure said, voice thick with suspicion and something colder—knowledge.
"But that's not possible. This star lies 110 light-years from your planet, MARU."
Rio blinked.
(What the hell? How does he know that? If I'm that far from home… how did I even get here?)
The winged man's lips curled slightly—barely a smirk.
"Some of us possess telepathy," he said, as though reciting a basic truth. "Through it, we can understand your language. Witness fragments of your memory. Until you surpass us in power… your mind is an open scroll."
Rio exhaled slowly, heart thudding.
"That's… amazing. And terrifying."
He glanced sideways—and faltered.
A woman stood nearby, her presence wrapped in silence and silver night. Her long black hair flowed like water over obsidian. Her wings, vast and sharp-edged, shimmered with a deadly grace. Her eyes were half-lidded, unreadable, yet there was fire behind them. Her stillness whispered danger—worshipped and lethal.
(Okay. She might be a dream girl. Or a war goddess. Maybe both.)
"Ahem," the winged male interrupted, a flicker of amusement in his tone. "I can hear that, too. You may want to leash your thoughts. That," he nodded toward the woman, "is Zanna—the second-in-command."
(Shit. Shit. Shiiit. Yes. No. Stop thinking—stop—)
Before Rio could mentally backpedal any further, armored footsteps approached.
Another warrior emerged—silent and stone-faced. Without ceremony, he clasped cold metallic cuffs onto Rio's wrists and fastened a humming collar around his neck. The air felt heavier immediately.
"War-mortal," the warrior growled, voice like grinding rock. "Come with me. No tricks. Or I'll crush you before you blink."
Rio attempted humor.
"Hey… do you also read minds? Or are you the strong silent type?"
"I don't," the man replied coldly. "But that won't matter. A mortal like you is lucky to even see our leader, Nyxara. She may kill you instantly. Or she may not."
(The pressure... it's getting worse. Why is the air like molten iron? What kind of place is this?)
The warrior yanked him forward.
They marched through blackened corridors carved into volcanic metal, lit only by glimmering runes etched into the walls. The scent of ancient fire lingered, as though this place had once burned with the rage of a star.
Then the gates opened.
And Rio stopped breathing.
---
Throne Hall of the Obsidian Star
The chamber stretched wider than any cathedral. Rows upon rows of winged warriors stood on elevated platforms—at least thirty of them. Each radiated a chilling, focused stillness. Two among them gleamed brighter—beings whose presence blazed even beyond TIER-5.
And seated above them all, framed in starlight—
She.
Nyxara.
Rio's breath caught in his throat.
(Holy shit… who is this lethal goddess?)
Her skin shimmered like moonstone kissed by light. Crimson eyes burned with patient calm—regal, ruthless. Silver hair cascaded down her shoulders in braided strands that glowed faintly, as if woven from light itself. She wore flowing garments that accentuated every deadly curve with deceptive softness.
And when she spoke, her voice sliced like velvet across ice.
"Stand, human."
Rio straightened, sweat pooling at the small of his back.
"Do you know why you are here?"
"I… I don't. I swear I didn't break any laws. I barely even knew this place existed."
(Her scent… calming, ancient. Like the incense in the Tomb of Furine back on MARU…)
Nyxara's eyes flicked toward her guards.
"All warriors, remain here."
Then, to her left: "Unberwyn Duo—escort this human to the Golden Plateau."
Two figures stepped forward.
Twins—one male, one female. Identical faces of perfect symmetry, wrapped in silver armor streaked with dark runes. Their movements mirrored each other precisely.
( I must be mad… because I'm not even scared anymore. Either I'm enjoying this, or something's seriously wrong with me.)
Rio cleared his throat. "Hey… can someone tell me where we're going?"
The male twin hissed. "A mortal dares question the Lady? If not for the rite, I'd gut you here and now."
The female twin chuckled. "You answered him? Hah. You're growing soft, brother."
Annoyed, the male turned and struck.
A brutal kick landed in Rio's ribs—pain lanced through his body, but the GODWAR suit dampened the worst of it.
(Damn it… can't catch a break. I haven't even found the dream girl yet, and I'm already bleeding out in someone else's war.)
Then Nyxara rose from her throne.
The room hushed.
She descended the stairs with inhuman grace—each step a declaration of presence, each movement silent thunder. When she stopped in front of Rio, she was close enough for him to feel the energy spiraling from her body—warm and cold at once.
"I never intended to sacrifice you, Rio Ryunn," she said softly.
Her voice rippled through him.
"I wanted you as a slave... until death would part us. But now…"
Her crimson gaze narrowed.
"Your blood may hold the key to what my people have failed to accomplish in three millennia. That's over eighteen thousand years for your kind."
She lifted her hand—brushing a strand of silver from her cheek—and for a heartbeat, she looked… lonely.
"I, too, have telepathy," she whispered. "And I know exactly who you are."
The twin warriors knelt behind Rio.
"We are ready, my lady."
Nyxara turned, walking toward the far arch of the chamber.
"The path to the Golden Plateau awaits, mortal. If you survive it… you may learn why the universe still watches you."
And with that, the gates opened once more—toward a trial that would twist destiny.