Sovereign Ascendant

The warship Ignis Imperium was a fortress among the stars.

Its hull stretched for kilometers, a monolithic construct of reinforced adamantine and high-grade Qi-infused alloys.The Imperial insignia—a burning sword wreathed in the Eternal Flame—was emblazoned across its side, marking it as one of the Imperium's elite warships.

There were no sleek, elegant designs to be found here. The Ignis Imperium was built for war, a colossus of iron and will. Its purpose was singular—to carry the might of the Legions across the void and return them victorious.

Inside, the structure was just as relentless. The corridors were narrow, constructed with functionality in mind rather than comfort. The walls were lined with reinforced plating, the lighting harsh and clinical, casting sharp shadows against the metallic surfaces.

The ship ran on precision, discipline, and unwavering regulation.

Everything had a place.

Everyone had a purpose.

—

Traveling across twelve light-years required discipline.

The jump engines could cut through the vast distances of space, bending the laws of time and physics, but it was not instantaneous.

It would take three months to reach Prime Terra.

Most of that time would be spent in cryogenic stasis.

The Imperium did not rely on artificial intelligence. The Senate had deemed it a weakness, a crutch. Instead, the ship functioned on self-automated drones and the iron discipline of its crew.

The Legionnaires aboard followed strict routines, regulated down to the smallest detail.

0600 hours: Wake.0630 hours: Physical training.0800 hours: Qi refinement and technique practice.1200 hours: Rations and hydration.1300 hours: Tactical drills and war theory.1800 hours: Free period.2100 hours: Final checks before cryo-entry.

There was no deviation, no exceptions. Even in transit, the Imperium demanded excellence.

—

Two days before cryo-entry, the fight happened.

Cassius and Varian.

It had been brewing for weeks.

Gaius had seen it in the tightness of Cassius' shoulders, in the way his jaw clenched every time Varian spoke. He had seen it in the way Varian avoided them, choosing the company of the other nobles, pretending as if the past years of battle had never existed.

But no one spoke of it.

Until now.

—

The training hall aboard the Ignis Imperium was a cavernous space, built for combat drills and simulated engagements. The floor was marked with old scars from decades of sparring, the scent of metal and sweat lingering in the air.

Cassius stood at the center, his massive frame coiled with tension. His golden-amber eyes burned as Varian approached.

"You should've come," Cassius growled.

Varian sighed, adjusting the cuffs of his polished officer's uniform. "It wouldn't have changed anything."

"You think I give a damn about that?" Cassius stepped forward, the air between them thick with unspoken resentment."You disappeared. For months. You didn't visit Gaius. You didn't even ask if he lived."

Varian's jaw tightened. "I knew he would."

Cassius laughed, but there was no humor in it. "That's not the point."

Varian's hands curled into fists. "You think I had a choice?"

"You always have a choice," Cassius snapped. "But you made yours. You chose to act like we don't exist."

Silence stretched.

Then, finally, Varian spoke, his voice low.

"My father found out."

Cassius stilled.

Varian exhaled. "He found out about our friendship. About the time I spent with you. With Gaius." His ice-blue eyes were colder than ever. "He made it clear what would happen if I continued."

Gaius watched from the sidelines, saying nothing.

Varian continued. "My father is an Imperial Senator. He controls my funding, my future. If I defy him, I lose my chance at the Regulus Royal Academy."

Cassius' lips curled. "So that's it? You abandon us for a title?"

Varian's expression remained unreadable. "I abandon you so I can survive."

The words hit heavier than a blade.

Cassius' fists clenched. "And here I thought nobles had all the power."

Varian's smile was bitter. "Power? My father is a Dominius. Do you know what that means?"

Gaius finally spoke. "It means he's shaping his own bloodline."

Varian nodded. "He doesn't just want a son. He wants an heir worthy of his bloodline, someone who will inherit his cultivation, his techniques, his power. If I disappoint him, he replaces me." His eyes darkened. "He has ten other sons."

Silence.

Cassius exhaled, shaking his head. "I don't care about your family politics. I care about the fact that you left."

Varian held his gaze.

Then, finally, he spoke.

"Would you have done the same, if your father demanded it?"

Cassius' jaw clenched. "My father was a mercenary. He didn't care who I befriended."

"Then you don't understand."

And just like that, the fight was over.

Varian turned, walking away without another word.

Cassius stood there, his breath unsteady, fists trembling.

Gaius exhaled.

There was nothing more to say.

—

The night before cryo-entry, Gaius stood before his chamber.

The cryogenic pods were lined in perfect rows, sleek metal coffins fitted with nutrient circulation systems and deep-sleep inhibitors. They were built not for comfort, but for survival.

Gaius stepped inside, feeling the chill settle into his skin.

The chamber hissed as it sealed.

A voice echoed through the speakers.

"Cryostasis initiation in ten seconds."

He closed his eyes.

Prime Terra awaited.