Viktor leaned back in his throne, his gold teeth glinting as he smirked. "Pay up, boy. Before I change my mind and double the price."
Xavier’s fingers twitched slightly. "We had a deal. A man of your stature should honor his word."
Viktor’s laughter boomed through the chamber. "I honor money, not words. Now pay before I lose my patience."
Xavier spread his fingers wide, then clenched them into fists. "Fine. Bring the payment device."
Viktor snapped his fingers. Two guards approached with a sleek neural payment terminal. The man’s grin widened as he inputted the amount. "Six billion. One extra for wasting my time."
Xavier began the transfer process, his fingers moving over the holographic interface. Then he paused. His knuckles cracked loudly in the silent room.
Viktor’s brow furrowed. "What the fuck are you doing? Finish the payment."
Xavier’s entire demeanor shifted. The calm, respectful facade shattered like glass. His voice dropped into a venomous growl. "You remember that night at The Crimson Star bar? When you pushed that girl sitting with me?"
Viktor waved a dismissive hand. "What about it? Why bring up ancient history now? Complete the payment and get out of here."
Xavier’s eyes burned with cold fury. "That ’girl’ was one of my fucking wives. And I don’t appreciate motherfuckers putting their hands on what belongs to me."
Viktor’s expression darkened. "If you don’t want the rock, I’ll sell it to someone else."
Xavier threw his head back and laughed - a sound like breaking bones. "You think you’re in charge here, fat fuck?" He began peeling off his gloves, finger by finger. "You think your little cybernetic army scares me?"
The room tensed. Viktor’s cybernetic fingers twitched. "Don’t do anything stupid, boy. My men will turn you into paste."
Xavier’s voice was a blade. "Your men? These pathetic meat puppets?" He gestured at the surrounding soldiers. "I’ve killed better men than these with my bare hands. You want to test me? Go ahead. See what happens when you push me."
The air crackled with tension. Viktor’s face twisted in rage. "You dare speak to me like that in my own house?"
Xavier stood slowly, his body radiating lethal intent. "This isn’t your house. It’s my fucking playground. And you’re about to learn why no one touches what’s mine."
The guards shifted nervously, their weapons humming to life. Viktor’s cybernetic systems whirred as he rose from his throne. "You’ll regret this."
Xavier cracked his neck. "I regret nothing. Now give me the fucking rock before I paint this room with your blood."
Silence. Then Viktor barked an order. A guard hurried forward with the mahogany box.
Xavier took a deep, shuddering breath as he peeled off his right glove. "You want to know something funny, you fat fuck?" His voice dripped with venom. "I’ve got this weak-ass body with a fucking disorder. I pass out when I get too stressed. My wives get pissed when I do this shit."
Viktor’s eyes narrowed. "What the hell are you—"
Xavier’s fist connected with Viktor’s face before he could finish. Despite the man’s massive bulk, the punch sent him flying backward, his throne toppling over with a metallic crash. Gold teeth scattered across the concrete like broken promises, blood spraying from Viktor’s split lips.
The room erupted into chaos. Guards scrambled for their weapons as Viktor groaned, pushing himself up with cybernetic assistance. "You’re a dead man!" he roared, spittle and blood flying from his mouth.
Xavier laughed, the sound sharp and dangerous. "Look around, motherfucker. See where your precious army is pointing those guns?"
Viktor’s eyes widened as he realized the truth. Every single weapon in the room was trained on him. The guards stood motionless, their cybernetic eyes glowing with cold calculation.
"What the fuck is this?" Viktor screamed. "Kill him! Kill that bastard right now!"
Xavier picked up the mahogany box, cradling it carefully. "Money talks, you stupid cunt. And it just spoke volumes." He stood slowly, his gaze sweeping over the armed men. "You all just got paid. One billion each. Enjoy your early retirement."
Every guard’s neural interface chimed simultaneously with the deposit notification. Their weapons remained steady, their loyalty bought and paid for.
Viktor’s face twisted in horror. "You can’t—"
"I just did." Xavier’s voice was ice. "You shouldn’t have touched my wife, you worthless piece of shit."
He turned toward the exit, the box secure in his grip. As he stepped through the doorway, the first shots rang out. Five hundred weapons firing in unison, the sound deafening in the enclosed space.
When Xavier glanced back, there was nothing left of Viktor but a red mist settling over the concrete. The guards stood motionless, their job complete.
Xavier walked away without looking back, the night air cool against his face. Somewhere in the distance, sirens began to wail. But he didn’t hurry. He had time.
The fragment in the box pulsed softly against his chest, its power resonating through him. He had what he came for. And he’d made his point.
No one touched what was his.
Suddenly, Xavier’s consciousness returned in a rush of blinding pain. His vision swam, colors bleeding together as his eyes struggled to focus. The sterile white of the hospital room slowly resolved around him, the beeping of machines and the hum of medical equipment filling his ears.
His body was a landscape of agony - every breath sent fresh waves of hurt through his battered frame. Bandages wrapped his torso, wires snaked from his arms to various monitors, and the scent of antiseptic burned his nostrils.
’What the hell happened?’ His thoughts were sluggish, his mind foggy. He remembered... something. A dream? A vision? It had felt so real, but now the details slipped through his fingers like smoke. There had been blood. Violence. A fragment of something divine. But the harder he tried to grasp the memory, the more it dissolved. He couldn’t remember anything.
The pain became too much. His vision darkened at the edges, the machines’ beeping growing distant as he slipped back into unconsciousness.
Meanwhile, in the village temple, Xavier’s father knelt before the rock of the goddess, his eyes closed in prayer. The chamber was silent except for the faint sound of dripping water from the sacred spring. Then, suddenly, his eyes snapped open.
His gaze fixed on the direction of Astraeus City, though it lay far beyond the horizon. His voice was a whisper, yet it carried the weight of prophecy:
"He has died. And now, he awakens."
The air in the chamber seemed to still. The goddess’s rock appeared to shimmer in the dim light.
"His first prophecy has come," Xavier’s father continued, his voice growing stronger. "The journey begins. My son... no longer just a man."
Outside the temple, the wind howled through the village streets, carrying with it the scent of rain and something more - the faintest hint of divine power stirring in the world.