Floating Island - Triple S Talent

The man beside her, with an arrogant smile on his handsome face, chuckled softly, his shoulders slightly shaking. "Maybe they've surrendered," he said, his voice laced with mockery, the small laugh echoing in the air.

The woman ignored his light laughter. "Aurelius is not the type to surrender so easily," she said, her voice low but filled with conviction. Her gaze sharpened, as though the void of space before her was nothing more than a thin veil she could pull aside at any moment. Her eyes seemed to traverse the distance, searching for Aurelius, who stood on the command bridge of his ship on the other side.

As if some unspoken connection existed, Aurelius—who had been idly sipping from a glass of wine—paused for a moment. Slowly, he turned, gazing straight at the woman, despite the millions of kilometers of empty space separating them. Their eyes met. An eerie silence surrounded the two of them, even though thousands of ships and war-ready weapons were gathered around them. No one moved, no one spoke.

Only an exchange of glances filled with unspoken meaning.

The woman smiled faintly, a smile tinged with curiosity. "Interesting... I wonder what he'll do next," she murmured, as though speaking to herself. Her slender fingers touched her lips, her thoughts racing like a storm, trying to unravel the strategy behind his actions.

The man beside her raised an eyebrow, seemingly puzzled by the excessive attention given to Aurelius. "What's the matter? Why are you so interested in Aurelius? He's just a young man without a wife... hahaha!" His laughter was louder this time, spreading arrogantly throughout the room, but the woman paid no heed.

Still in the void,

a fleet of advanced ships floated gracefully. Each ship was coated in metallic black, shimmering as integrated black and white neon lights flickered along their hulls. Towering laser turrets, like giant spears over a hundred meters long, stood ready to strike the enemy at any moment.

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On the command ship, an old man with a wrinkled face sat leisurely on a large sofa that seemed mismatched to his age. His gaze focused on a white crystal ball on the table before him, where the scenes of battle shifted continuously. In his calm eyes, a glint of cold satisfaction flickered.

If Earth's humans were present, they would recognize the scene as a depiction of the celestial heavens—locked in a massive war.

"How is it, sir?" A deep voice asked from a middle-aged man standing nearby.

The man was impeccably dressed, with slicked-back hair and a flawless face. His black clothing with gold accents exuded a sense of great authority. He gazed at the old man before him with keen interest, patiently awaiting a response.

"Very good... your contribution this time has been significant." The old man smiled broadly, briefly glancing at the man before returning his gaze to the crystal ball displaying the battlefield visualization.

"Our forces are almost defeated, as are the other races," he said calmly, as though unaffected by the ill fate befalling his army.

Yet, there was no sadness in his voice, only a cold acceptance of reality without emotion.

"That's to be expected, given the level of this realm. A three-star realm rarely appears, even in the last hundred thousand years," the old man continued with a tone of longing. Flickers of memories from hundreds of years ago flashed through his mind, recalling the first time he witnessed the appearance of a similar three-star realm.

"Indeed, sir," the middle-aged man before him agreed with a small smile.

"By the way, check how much longer the seal's effect will last?" the old man asked, this time with a firmer tone, reflecting his impatience.

"I'll check it right away, sir," the man replied, and without warning, his figure vanished from the sofa where he had been sitting.

In the blink of an eye, the middle-aged man, known as Aric, appeared in a completely different room. The sound of machinery and hurried footsteps echoed around him. The room was heavily guarded, with guards clad in black uniforms and modern weapons mounted on their arms. All eyes were on Aric as he walked straight toward the main room at the center of the area.

"Salute to Lord Aric," the two guards at the large door greeted with raised hands in salute.

"Salute to Lord Aric."

With a slight nod, Aric acknowledged their greetings and stopped before the tightly sealed door. A series of scanning beams swept across his body, checking for any potential threats or disturbances. Once the scan was complete, the door opened with a faint, almost inaudible sound.

Aric stepped into a cube-shaped room, filled with a sterile white color. The walls of the room appeared to be lined with special damping materials, preventing any form of energy or vision from high-level beings from penetrating inside. The room resembled a prison, but far more terrifying and silent.

In the center of the room, a large eyeball-shaped object floated without any support. It was twice the size of a basketball and closely resembled a human eye, with a jet-black pupil that occasionally blinked. Thick black chains coiled around the eye, holding it in place, unmoving.

With slow but steady steps, Aric approached the eyeball. The giant eye's gaze followed Aric's every movement, warily watching like a living surveillance camera. However, Aric was undisturbed by the sharp stare. He continued forward, his gaze fixed on the large object until he finally stopped behind the eye.

Aric kept checking the item's description, his eyes focused on the inscription, "4 hours and 12 minutes remaining."

"Still enough time," Aric murmured softly. Thinking for a moment about something, he then turned and left the cube room. It didn't take long before he returned to the place he had been earlier, back on the command ship with the wrinkled old man.

"The time is 4 hours and 12 minutes, sir. It should be enough time to await Lord Lorin's arrival," Aric said calmly.