The Arrogance of Capital and the Prehistoric Sniper Rifle

Starry Sky Consortium Headquarters.

Secret Meeting Room of the Supreme Vault.

Half of a real stellar core hung from the domed ceiling.

Blinding white light shone straight down.

The round table was forged from condensed Star Core Matter.

Thirteen figures sat around the round table.

The Star Spirit Patriarch.

The Commander of the Titan Remnants.

The Great Chieftain of the Myriad Beast Star Alliance.

And the leaders of the various major neutral forces.

Thirteen people.

They represented thirteen lofty High Gods.

This was the highest surviving center of power in the Myriad Worlds.

The Holographic Projection in the center of the meeting room cut off.

That sentence, accompanied by electronic static—"Fellow countrymen, open up. We're here to send you some warmth"—still reverberated between the Alloy Walls of the vault.

The Starry Sky Consortium's executive director, Turing, turned the Purple Gold Ring on his left thumb.

The ring rubbed against his knuckle, producing a faint rustling sound.

The sound continued for sixty beats.

"You all heard that."

Turing stopped moving his hand.

"He intends to forcefully unify the Myriad Worlds."

The Great Chieftain raised his right hand.

He slammed a fist onto the Star Core table.

The one-meter-thick tabletop was dented by a three-inch-deep fist mark.

Cracks spread two meters outward.

His lion's head, covered in spikes, thrust forward.

"A human brat who isn't even twenty years old."

"He just happened to seize the Abyss."

"And he dares claim he'll unify the Myriad Worlds?"

"Does he think we old relics from the past Eras are all dead?"

The Star Spirit Patriarch crossed his hands in front of him.

His body was formed from pure Starlight Energy.

At that moment, the flickering frequency of the starlight was twice as fast as usual.

"He has the capital to be arrogant."

"He killed Michael."