After years of isolation in the desolate backroads, Nu finally arrived at the orbital plane of a new solar system.
The warmth from the Melting Lily had been completely exhausted, the blue glow around him fading entirely. Tiny cracks of hunger returned to his surface after so many years without food.
His six eyebrows arched in surprise as his gaze fell upon countless groups of enslaved sentient beings orbiting the remote solar system.
The beings displayed a bewildering variety of celestial and planetary forms, each bearing the hallmarks of life. Among them were animals of all kinds, humans, plants, and even peculiar intelligent household objects. They clustered into distinct factions, dotting the solar system’s perimeter like scattered clouds.
Each faction of beings was marked by a distinct accessory, worn like a badge, identifying the celestial master who controlled them.
The faction nearest to Nu’s orbital position wore five-fingered white gloves. Most of its members were four-limbed, wearing the gloves on one of their protruding limbs, while those without limbs had the gloves nailed to their bodies like grotesque piercings.
Nu kept his distance, watching the White Gloves with intense vigilance, unsure what to make of the many sentient beings clustered in the recesses of this solar system.
“These guys are all powerhouses as well,” Nu lamented, his voice weighted with anger and exhaustion. ”I traveled all this way, enduring years of hunger, yet still is there nothing here..."
Nu squinted at the scene in front of him, recalling that it seemed similar to an ancestral story he had read within his legacy.
His mind fluttered through his ancestors many experiences before finally stopping at a specific passage.
The open page recounted an adventure of a younger Bohr. It described a momentous occasion when Bohr found himself near a dying solar system. At its center was an orange-red star, collapsing into a rare and extraordinary opportunity.
This collapsing object was transforming into what was known as a star legacy, created from the purest form of mass. This remarkable substance could be consumed directly, requiring no workout to harness its power. It could integrate seamlessly into one''s body without causing backlash.
The younger Bohr detailed the chaos surrounding the star, with asteroids crowding the outskirts, each vying for the center. A ruthless celestial brawl erupted as masters from across the universe fought desperately to claim the star legacy. Initially an underdog, Bohr relied on his cunning to outwit his rivals. Ultimately, he secured the prize and transformed his meager cubed asteroid body into that of an enormous cubed star.
With his tyrannical god-body now at star-level mass, Bohr unleashed his newfound power. He ruthlessly slaughtered the remaining celestial masters, marking the beginning of his storied reign of tyranny across the cosmos.
As Nu finished reading, he began to see parallels between himself and Bohr. The story of Bohr''s rise from similarly humble beginnings resonated deeply, igniting a spark of inspiration within him.
"Star legacy," Nu whispered, taking a deep breath. The thought of shedding his weakness and gaining enormous amounts of strength was a tantalizing thing.
"But can I possibly secure such a great thing?" he pondered.
His legacy shimmered with a golden light, as if assuring him that it would be an easy task for them to achieve together.
"Are you certain?" Nu asked cautiously.
In response to his hesitation, the light of his legacy grew even brighter. Within his mind, it was as if the brilliance of a million suns had appeared, their blinding radiance capable of smiting any darkness.
Moved by the strength of this light and the unwavering confidence of his ancestors, his expression softened.
"Thank you," he murmured.
Nu''s optimism returned. As his spirits lifted, he gazed longingly at the orange-red star before him, his resolve strengthening with each passing moment.
"Fathers, mothers, forgive me if I ever seemed to doubt you." Determination lit up his face. "Together, we will claim this great treasure. Let us cast aside this lingering doubt of ours and emerge victorious, proving that your guidance was never in vain."
Turning his attention back to the outskirts of the solar system, Nu resumed his observations, trying to gauge the strength of everyone around him.
Meanwhile, some nearby members of the White Gloves had already noticed his arrival. Unbeknownst to Nu, they murmured quietly among themselves, discussing his presence.
A ceramic soup bowl, adorned with a human face on its bottom, leaned toward its hairy neighbor and whispered conspiratorially.
“Hey, Hairy, come check this guy out for me,” the bowl said, gesturing subtly toward Nu. “His actions are odd. His body is so frail and small, yet he emerged from those miserable backroads. That’s not something someone of his stature should be able to achieve. Do you recognize him from anywhere?”
The hairy neighbor, shaped like a human but covered entirely in dense hair, floated closer to the bowl while parting the strands that constantly veiled his eyes.
“Strange… I don’t see any faction accessory on him,” Hairy said, stroking his chin thoughtfully. “I heard about a planetary faction on the far side of the ninth ring whose slave accessories are small metal studs on their tongues. Maybe he’s one of theirs?”
“The Metal Tongue faction?" The ceramic bowl furrowed its brows in doubt. "You really think they traveled all the way from the opposite side of the universe just for the collapse of this medium-sized sun?”
He muttered in contemplation, “Something about this guy''s appearance doesn’t add up...”
A thought crossed Hairy’s mind, prompting him to lower his voice. “Bowl, what if he’s not part of a faction? Instead maybe he’s a traveling celestial expert posing as a weakling to bully people for fun.”
Bowl shot Hairy a glance as though it were the most idiotic thing he had ever heard.
“That doesn’t seem right... but... maybe?” Bowl muttered, frustrated by his inability to dismiss the theory completely. The uncertainty of the situation was beginning to bother him. Reluctant to deal with it himself, he decided to pass the responsibility to Hairy.
“You seem to have a better read on this guy than I do,” Bowl said, shifting the burden. “Why don’t you go interact with him directly? Go and see what he''s like and report back your findings.”
Hairy seemed to agree quickly to the idea, curious about the matter himself.
He prepared some probing questions, before leaving the side of Bowl and gliding purposefully through space on his way to Nu.
Nu squinted his six eyes as a hairy figure approached.
Despite his many hardships, some traits about Nu were impossible to change. His tyrannical personality and unwillingness to compromise remained deeply ingrained, making him quite the difficult character to speak to.
"Who are you, and why do you approach me?" Nu demanded, his tyrannical god-body radiating a menacing red light.
Thrown off balance by Nu’s imposing tone, the hairy figure responded politely. "Sir Cube, I am a representative of Planet White Glove. We have noticed you orbiting nearby for some time. May I ask why you linger outside our outpost?" He hoped invoking his master’s name might elicit some kind of reaction.
Nu sneered, trying to maintain an air of dominance. "I have no interest in you or your pitiful master. I am here solely to fight for the star legacy."
The figure sucked in a sharp breath. "You’re here to compete for the star legacy?" His expression shifted dramatically. "Sir Cube... no, Lord Cube, I didn’t realize such an esteemed expert would grace this dying solar system with their presence."
Nu was momentarily stunned by the sudden shift in tone, but before he could respond, the figure quickly continued. "You don’t need to say anything. I’ve seen you eyeing our position in the orbital plane. If you desire the space for yourself, I will ask my companions to clear out immediately."
"You don’t want it?" Nu asked, finding the words strange, though he couldn’t decipher the figure’s true intentions.
"Lord, no. I wouldn’t dare to covet what you desire," the figure said hastily.
With a quick farewell, the hairy figure departed, leaving a dumbfounded Nu behind.
"Maybe I am much more fearsome than I originally thought," Nu mused, finding the situation faintly humorous.
Traveling swiftly through space, Hairy returned to Bowl’s side.
"He’s the real deal," Hairy whispered.Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.
"What are you saying?" Bowl asked, glancing sideways at Nu with a skeptical expression. "Are you certain about this?"
"It’s either that, or he’s the stupidest, most arrogant pebble I’ve ever spoken to," Hairy snapped. "Either way, his claim to want the star legacy sets off every alarm in my mind."
"I’ve never heard of anyone seriously declaring their desire for a star legacy before," Hairy continued. "I didn’t even think it was possible to take it from that unfathomable Galactic Tyrant."
"It’s best we steer clear of this man. He’s too much of an unknown."
"That’s why I told him we’d vacate our space for him," Hairy concluded.
"That guy wants the star legacy?" Bowl frowned, glancing at Nu as he carefully considered Hairy’s words.
"Good for him," Bowl finally said. "You made the right choice, Hairy. He’s far too reckless of an idiot to keep nearby," he added derisively. "We should go as far from him as possible."
"Tell Charles to realign our orbit to the opposite end of this solar system."
Hairy nodded and approached the giant hamster named Charles, who was running inside a massive, clear ball.
After a brief conversation, the hamster abruptly turned around and began running in the opposite direction, causing all of the White Gloves’ orbits to shift.
Nu watched the migrating White Gloves with a smug, self-satisfied expression.
He seemed to be having quite the good day, never in his life had anyone shown him this much respect.
Nearby factions noticed the fleeing White Gloves and, after sending representatives to investigate, quickly distanced themselves as well, leaving Nu ecstatic by the sudden changes.
As Nu adjusted his orbit, he observed the factions around him making way, casting fearful and respectful glances as they departed. It was as if they deemed themselves unworthy to remain in his presence.
For Nu, and his desires of being a tyrant this was an intoxicating experience.
Like a child scaring away pigeons, Nu reveled in his newfound power. As he shifted his orbit and caused nearby factions to flee, he laughed with childish glee.
Although he enjoyed this treatment, he couldn’t shake a sense of puzzlement about the state of the solar system compared to Bohr''s passages.
Surrounding him were many massive and imposing celestial beings, yet none appeared focused on the center. Instead, most seemed remarkably relaxed, with some even engaging in casual conversations among themselves, creating a stark contrast to the brutal bloodbath Bohr had described from his younger days.
"Am I the only one vying to claim the star legacy?" he wondered aloud.
When he sought guidance from his legacy, there was no response.
It seemed he would simply have to wait and see what might happen.
Closing his eyes, Nu entered a state of temporary dormancy.
After a few years, Nu opened his eyes and noticed changes forming in the orange-red star. It had begun fluctuating wildly, as though it could no longer sustain its massive form.
Noticing the changes, the White Gloves halted their relocation and quickly settled into the nearest open spot. "The time is right!" Bowl commanded. "Take out your exercise equipment and prepare to intercept the incoming waves."
At his command, the faction members began retrieving various items designed for physical fitness.
Soon, the entire perimeter of the galaxy was lined with exotic and unique gym equipment, including yoga mats, barbells, dumbbells, cable machines, and other tools for intense workouts.
The orange-red sun, unable to sustain its massive form, began to collapse violently. As it deflated, it released superheated gas in powerful gravitational waves. These waves heated the cold graveyard of celestial rock, though only the gravitational echoes of discarded time reached the galaxy''s outskirts.
Using their fast orbiting speeds in combination with their workouts, the faction members countered the waves of the star. Their equipment began to glow faintly with colorful lights as they worked against the increasing pressure.
Bowl pulled out a mesmerizing gold ceramic bowl and placed it between his teeth. Above him, a circular barbell glowed a greenish gold on the lip of his bowl. Tiny hands emerged from the sides of Bowl, grasping the bar and performing an overhead press motion.
Meanwhile, Hairy was positioned with a barbell on his back, performing squats. A tiny obsidian wig dangled from his mouth. Beside him, Charles ran furiously inside his exercise ball, moving faster than ever before, with a massive piece of ancient meat clutched in his teeth.
This scene played out across all the beings, creating an extraordinary display of hundreds of thousands working out against the gravitational waves from the collapsing star.
"What is this strange equipment they are using?" He muttered to himself surprised by the changes.
Larger gravitational waves radiated outward as an even hotter layer of gas emerged from the dying star. With every passing second, the waves intensified, and the graveyard of celestial rocks turned a molten red under the relentless barrages of heat.
His thoughts distracted by the hot molten rock in front of him, he decided to worry about such things at another point. He licked his six dry lips with a hungry expression, leaping from orbit he pounced toward the molten celestial rock, using the gravitational waves he began to incorporate the new matter into his tyrannical god-body.
Seeing that his initial meal was a resounding success, Nu hastened his pace, moving closer to the dying star at the center. He seized every opportunity, biting at crumbs of molten dust whenever he could.
With each mouthful, his mass grew. The weathered cracks across his body healed completely, and his stone skin regained its smooth, unblemished surface. His molten core reignited, reaching the searing temperatures it had once held when he first emerged from the pocket of space.
Nu was ecstatic at these reinvigorating changes, but his years of failure tempered his excitement, forcing him to feign caution as he inched closer to the center.
The star’s outbursts grew stronger, heating the surrounding graveyard into a seething plasma.
Nu watched as changes rippled through the outskirts. The celestial beings’ equipment glowed intensely, and vortexes formed at their centers, drawing in the hot plasma. Sweat beaded on their foreheads as their workouts intensified. Most were well-prepared for these changes, swapping out equipment or using treasures to push through extra reps on their setups.
Just as Nu was about to take another bite, it was snatched away from him, drawn into the equipment of a nearby faction member wearing a green scarf. Nu glared at the man with furious dissatisfaction.
He couldn’t help but curse.
Having barely eaten, the humiliation of losing his meal after thirty years of starvation stung like a knife in his chest.
"Do I exist in this universe only to be made a fool of?" he lamented bitterly. "Can I not find strength for myself? Must I always live under the foot of others?" His eyes burned with fiery hatred.
"Fine! Take it all. I don’t need it anyway!" He spat, pushing his hatred aside. Fixing his gaze on the star legacy forming before him, he added, "As long as the prize remains I still have hope."
His eyes gleamed.
With a surge of determination, Nu increased his speed. His body glowed with a maddened red light as he pressed through the gravitational waves toward the star.
Unyielding in his resolve, the journey was long and excruciating.
As he neared the dying star, the intense heat wracked his body with agony. Yet, by applying one of Bohr''s techniques, he miraculously suppressed the pain. A green halo enveloped his form, drawing on his remaining mass to help numb the torment.
After a year the intense heat even melted his body back into plasma, but still, he pressed on.
Four years passed, Nu endured the relentless waves without reward. In a desperate dash toward the center, he shed his hard earned mass, discarding most of his body, determined to see through and achieve the star legacy.
Changes were unfolding among the surrounding factions. As the pressure of the waves increased, many pieces of equipment began to fail, resulting in injuries and backlash for numerous faction members. Some could no longer withstand the forces erupting within their bodies and collapsed under the strain.
<i>Bang!</i>
A member of the White Gloves faction exploded with a horrifying sound. Bowl glanced at the fallen member with a sorrowful expression and let out a deep sigh. He understood that such events were inevitable when working with volatile and risky mass like what was found in a dying solar system.
Not lingering on the loss of his colleague for too long, Bowl shifted his gaze toward the center of the solar system, where his eyes fell on the miserable-looking Nu. Shaking his head, he turned his attention back to his bicep curls.
Ten years passed, and Nu was closing in on the collapsing star. Blue and yellow halos now joined the green one surrounding his body, creating a mesmerizing display of multicolored light. His form had shrunk noticeably, reduced to the size of a small grain of sand.
Still, his determination and unyielding resolve shone through.
"This star is mine!" he gurgled loudly.
As he neared the sun’s photosphere, Nu’s grain-like body felt as if it were about to collapse into nothing. Yet he forced himself to continue. Ignoring his body’s desperate protests, he gritted his teeth and continued forward entering the star''s innermost orbit.
The final traces of orange-red light vanished from the sun, replaced by a blinding white radiance that engulfed its entire surface.
With a resounding crackling boom, the transformation reached its conclusion. A final, fearsome wave of gravitational energy surged outward from the star’s center, rippling across the solar system.
Recognizing the completed collapse, the factions sprang into action. Horns blared, and drums thundered, signaling an urgent retreat.
“Pack it up! We’re leaving immediately!” Bowl shouted to the surrounding White Gloves. “We’ll digest our gains back home. We must leave now to avoid getting caught up when the Galactic Tyrant arrives to claim his star legacy.”
Led by Charles, they streaked away in a dazzling beam of light, heading toward a nearby asteroid road. Many other factions followed suit, eager to escape the impending conflict, scattering to other nearby asteroid roads.
From the final burst, Nu lost even more of his mass, his form now resembling that of a tiny dust mote.
Barely clinging to his intelligence, he passed into the innermost orbit of the star legacy. The pain he had endured in the outer orbits vanished completely, replaced by a comforting warmth.
He was now able to start the ownership ritual of the star legacy.
The yellow light emerged from within his being, growing brighter it hung in the air in front of him.
Nu’s eyes were still and resolute. " Go and claim this legacy for me."
The yellow light began to grow in brightness, outshining even the glow of the star legacy.
Within this dazzling radiance, shadows began to coalesce on the stars white surface. Several figures emerged from the shadows, one taking the form of a tyrannical six-faced cube, each of them spread out along the surface of the star.
Performing a strange dance, the star legacy trembled violently, its surface quaking under the immense pressure.
Black shadowy chains grew between the dancing ancestors, as the began to bind the star in their links.
When it fully encircled the star, Nu felt a faint but undeniable sense of ownership emanating from the star legacy as if he were its rightful owner.
Nu’s expression softened at the sensation.
More chains began to grow around the star, until eventually five loops had appeared and secured the stars surface. Leaving only one final loop to cement Nu as the star legacies owner.
But before the final chain could fully materialize, a shadowy knife appeared behind the yellow light. In a swift motion it chopped at his legacies brilliant light, dimming it down to a blur.
"No!" Nu yelled, his voice cracking. "Ancestors... Please... Don''t...." His words faltered, trailing off into silence.
The yellow blur of light lay in front of him weakly, barely holding onto its existence returning into his mind.
Nu was left speechless, at a complete loss of the situation he didn''t even consider making his own escape.
The shadowy sword of the Galactic Tyrant didn’t stop there. After ruthlessly shattering Nu’s legacy, it began slicing through the very fabric of space-time tearing open a wormhole for which the entire solar system had fallen into.
With a violent lurch, Nu and the star legacy fell through, tumbling helplessly through the distorted folds of space-time before emerging in an unfamiliar realm.
Shattered and hopeless when Nu came to, his gaze locked onto an unfathomable sight.
Before him loomed an indescribable being.
The figure resembled a man, its muscular body spanning multiple galaxies. The titan rested on an enormous exercise bench, gripping a barbell that stretched across millions of light-years. The bar twisted through space, threading nearby galaxies like weighted plates for the titan’s exercise.
With deliberate precision, the Galactic Tyrant performed a galactic bench press. Each repetition spanned hundreds of years, the motion excruciatingly slow as he pushed against the very expansion of the universe itself for resistance.
Nu could only stare at the Galactic Tyrant in paralyzed awe and terror, awaiting the cruel fate that surely lay ahead.