The Throne

The destruction of the Class Seven creature spread across the world within hours.

Although the government confiscated recordings and shut down countless broadcasts, millions had already witnessed the battle.

No weapon.

No effort.

No struggle.

A single gesture had erased a creature that normally required an entire Awakened division.

The world had only one question.

Who was the young man with golden hair?

...

Asmo drifted through the upper atmosphere.

His hands remained inside the pockets of his coat.

His feet never touched anything.

Not the clouds.

Not the air.

He simply floated forward as though the universe itself carried him.

He looked down at the blue planet beneath him.

Cities glittered across the continents.

Thousands of battles were taking place at that very moment.

Humanity continued fighting.

Even after witnessing his power.

"They don't stop."

A calm voice echoed inside his mind.

They cannot.

War has become the foundation of their civilization.

"As expected."

Then the voice fell silent.

Asmo looked toward the moon.

For some reason...

Something beyond it was calling him.

Without hesitation, he disappeared.

...

Beyond Earth's orbit...

Hidden within empty space...

A crack of golden light appeared.

Asmo emerged from it.

The moment he crossed through, the stars vanished.

Darkness surrounded him.

An endless darkness.

Then...

Light appeared beneath his feet.

Not ground.

A floor made from countless stars.

Every step he would have taken was unnecessary.

He continued floating effortlessly through the endless space.

Massive golden pillars stretched infinitely upward.

They had no ceiling.

No walls.

Only endless darkness and endless light.

Far ahead stood a single throne.

It towered above mountains.

Forged from black metal veined with flowing gold.

The back of the throne resembled enormous wings unfolding across the void.

Golden energy flowed through countless ancient symbols carved into its surface.

Without anyone inviting him...

The throne slowly descended until it rested before him.

Asmo quietly observed it.

"So this is mine."

The Crown answered.

The Throne recognizes only its ruler.

No being may claim it.

No being may destroy it.

No being may enter without your permission.

Asmo slowly floated toward it.

He did not climb.

He simply drifted backward until he was seated.

The instant he rested upon the throne...

The entire dimension trembled.

Across countless galaxies...

Ancient civilizations detected an impossible signal.

Authority confirmed.

The Throne has accepted its ruler.

...

Far beyond the Milky Way.

Inside an alien empire that had ruled for over fifty thousand years.

Emergency alarms echoed throughout a colossal palace.

A woman wearing silver armor suddenly stood from her throne.

Her crimson eyes widened.

"The signal..."

An elderly advisor lowered himself onto one knee.

"It has appeared."

She clenched her fists.

"Impossible."

"The Crown disappeared before our ancestors reached the stars."

The advisor kept his head lowered.

"Our sensors have confirmed it."

"The Throne has awakened."

Silence filled the palace.

After several moments, the empress quietly spoke.

"Prepare my flagship."

The advisor looked up.

"Your Majesty?"

"I wish to see..."

"The one who now sits upon the Throne."

...

Earth.

World Union Headquarters.

General Marcus Hale hadn't slept for nearly thirty hours.

The reports continued arriving.

Unknown energy waves.

Strange alien communications.

Several hostile fleets had suddenly changed course toward the Solar System.

No attacks.

No explanations.

Only movement.

An officer hurried into the command room.

"General."

"We intercepted alien transmissions."

Marcus immediately looked up.

"Translate them."

The officer nodded.

"They all contain the same sentence."

The room became silent.

"What sentence?"

The officer swallowed.

"They're asking for permission."

"Permission?"

"Yes."

"Permission to enter the Solar System."

Professor Wells frowned.

"They're asking..."

"Who?"

Before anyone answered...

Every communication screen in the room turned black.

The lights flickered.

Then golden letters appeared across every monitor.

WELCOME TO MY DOMAIN

The officers immediately stood.

"Someone hacked us."

"Impossible."

"Our systems are isolated."

Marcus narrowed his eyes.

"Find the source."

"No source exists."

Professor Wells stared at the message.

"No..."

"This isn't a transmission."

The golden letters slowly disappeared.

Only one sentence remained.

YOU MAY CONTINUE YOUR WAR

I WILL WATCH

Then every screen returned to normal.

No trace remained.

No virus.

No intrusion.

Nothing.

Marcus slowly sat down.

"He knows we're watching."

Professor Wells shook his head.

"I don't think..."

"We're the ones being watched."

...

Inside the Throne.

Asmo rested quietly.

One leg crossed over the other.

His chin supported by one hand.

Silence filled the endless dimension.

He had already explored thousands of memories left behind by the Crown.

Ancient races.

Forgotten wars.

Collapsed galaxies.

Civilizations that had once believed themselves eternal.

All of them had disappeared.

Only the Throne remained.

"So everyone dies eventually."

Yes.

"Even the strongest."

Yes.

Asmo closed his eyes.

"How disappointing."

A golden window suddenly appeared before him.

Not made by technology.

Not magic.

Simply information.

Earth.

Current battles.

Northern Continent.

Seven Awakened squads engaged.

Eastern Ocean.

Alien fleet approaching.

Mars Colony.

Human forces retreating.

He watched them one after another.

Victory.

Defeat.

Sacrifice.

Survival.

Each battle looked different.

Yet all of them ended the same way.

Someone always died.

Asmo quietly watched for several minutes.

Then he lost interest.

"So this is the game."

He waved one hand.

Every battlefield disappeared.

The Throne returned to silence.

Far below, countless races continued fighting without knowing that somewhere beyond reality itself...

Someone was watching every move they made.

Not as a king.

Not as a god.

But as the only being who no longer belonged to either side.

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