Sovereign Ascendant

The streets of the Imperial Capital were alive with light and sound. Golden lanterns hung from intricately carved archways, casting warm glows upon the white stone streets, where merchants and nobles walked in effortless luxury. Above, the towering structures of the city gleamed under the twin moons, their surfaces polished smooth by centuries of perfection.

Gaius walked among them, his posture loose, his expression careless, the perfect image of a soldier indulging in the excess of civilization after too many years of war.

He had spent the last two months drinking, laughing, losing himself in the thrill of indulgence. To everyone—his comrades, his officers, himself—it had been a way to celebrate, to unwind.

But that had only been half-true.

Because Gaius knew better than anyone: war was never truly over.

And the Warrealm had already shown him his next trial was coming.

He had felt it since his return. A tension in his bones, an ache in his muscles that had nothing to do with fatigue. His body had changed, adapted, but it was not enough.

He needed more.

And what he needed was not something the Imperium would allow him to have.

Which was why he was here.

—

The Subterranean was not marked on any map.

It existed beneath the capital, hidden in plain sight, deep below the most unexpected of places.

Not in the slums or the lower districts, where one might expect crime to thrive. No, the Imperium had made sure that those areas were watched, regulated.

Instead, the entrance lay by the riverways.

Where the honey-rivers and wine-streams flowed through the capital, their shimmering waters concealing the entrances to the greatest black market in the galaxy.

Gaius stood by the edge of the flowing current, his eyes following the gentle ripples. To most, it was nothing more than a scenic wonder, a marvel of the Imperium's beauty.

But he knew better.

Stepping forward, he placed a single golden dail into the water.

The coin vanished beneath the surface—and the river answered.

The water split, revealing a descending path of stone, slick with condensation, leading deep beneath the city. The opening would not last long.

Without hesitation, Gaius stepped forward, vanishing into the underground.

—

The Subterranean was not a place of chaos.

It was a city beneath a city, an underground empire where laws were not dictated by rulers, but by power.

Carved into the bedrock of Prime Terra, the tunnels stretched for miles, woven together like the veins of a living body.The walls were lined with lanterns dimmed by special formations, keeping the entire space perpetually shrouded in half-light.

It was built not for comfort, but for secrecy.

The moment Gaius entered, he felt the formations press down on him.

A dulling effect. Not enough to obscure sight or sound completely, but enough that no one could fully perceive another. Faces blurred at the edges, details smudged like an unfinished painting.

And, of course, everyone wore masks.

A rule. A necessity.

Gaius' mask was plain—no markings, no unnecessary decoration. Just an expressionless slate of black steel.

He moved forward.

The market stretched before him, bustling with cloaked figures exchanging whispers, merchants displaying their wares in soft, low voices.

There was no shouting, no open haggling.

Deals were made in silence, with brief nods, subtle gestures, or the quiet exchange of coin.

Gaius' steps were deliberate. He had no time to waste.

He was looking for three things.

Physique enhancers. Healing agents. Talismans.

And for those, he needed the right merchant.

—

He found him in a small alcove, tucked between two larger stalls.

The merchant sat behind a low table of aged wood, his robes thick, his mask decorated with intricate gold patterns.

A supplier of forbidden goods.

Gaius approached, setting a single gold dail on the table. A sign of serious business.

The merchant studied him. Then, slowly, he reached beneath the table, pulling out a small lacquered box.

He opened it.

Inside, laid on velvet cloth, were small crystalline vials of deep red liquid.

Gaius' fingers tightened.

Physique enhancers.

And not just any—Bellum Empire-grade.

Illegal. Unregulated. Lethal.

The Imperium outlawed them for a reason. Their effects were monstrous. They shattered the body—bones, muscles, and skin torn apart and rebuilt again over hours of unimaginable agony.

But the results…

Unparalleled.

Most required pain inhibitors just to survive the process. But Gaius had already made his choice.

He gestured for four vials.

The merchant nodded, setting them aside. Then, without a word, he retrieved a second box.

Inside were pills of deep green jade.

Healing agents. Qi regeneration pills.

Stronger than what the Imperial Apothecaries provided.

Gaius took three.

Finally, the merchant laid out a set of talismans.

Each one was inscribed with ancient glyphs, carved into thin sheets of silver paper.

One for speed.

One for strength.

One for reaction time.

Gaius took all three.

The merchant held up a single hand. The price.

Six hundred gold dails.

Gaius did not flinch.

He reached into his belt, withdrawing a heavy pouch, and placed it on the table.

The merchant took it, weighing it in his palm. Then, without a word, he nodded, sliding the goods toward Gaius.

The transaction was complete.

Gaius took the items and turned.

Without another word, he left.

—

He had spent most of his wealth in a single night.

His father's inheritance had been two thousand gold dails.

His savings from the war effort—forty-five gold dails.

His salary as a Centurion—ten gold dails a month.

And now, after this purchase, his total stood at one thousand four hundred thirty-five.

A heavy price.

But worth it.