Daybit gave a calm shrug. "Understood ."
"Good," Jin-Woo said. "Because in this galaxy, carelessness gets you killed fast."
Jin-woo then held out a small object—a thin, black plate etched with an ancient angular crest glowing faint blue.
"Here," Jin-Woo said. "Offensive Bias's symbol. Put it on your shoulder."
Daybit took it without hesitation and attached it to his coat. The moment it locked into place, a pulse of Forerunner energy shimmered around him.
"Designated: Daybit Sem Void," Offensive Bias declared, voice echoing like a machine god. "Now registered as auxiliary personnel under Supreme Executor jurisdiction."
Daybit raised an eyebrow. "You run logistics for Jin-Woo, Bias?"
"Affirmative," came the cold reply.
Jin-Woo handed him a small silver case. "Inside: a standard-issue blaster, and holy water of life. It'll de-age you if needed. You're going to be out there for at least five years—maybe more. Take whichever you think is more useful. Or leave it to your Mayan god servant to play babysitter."
Tezcatlipoca snorted, cracking his knuckles. "I still want to fight both Yoda and that Sidious guy. Make it happen."
Jin-Woo turned back to Daybit, tone flattening. "One last thing. If you make things worse—force my hand—there's no benefit. You fail, same as if you gave up. Understood?"
Daybit nodded. "Understood. And… since we're looking at nine or ten years, what about my group? You can dilate their time frame, right?"
Jin-Woo smirked faintly. "Just like Interstellar. I'll drop a small black hole core near your planet. For them, ten days will pass. For you? Ten years. You'll be back before they even realize how long you were gone."
Daybit exhaled. "They'll know I'm gone—all of the Crypters will—but they'll think it's only a few days. In truth, it'll be a decade."
He glanced up. "Jin-Woo. If, somehow, I manage to pilot a starship… got any pep talk?"
Jin-Woo raised a brow. "Yeah. Stay the hell away from the Maw, and avoid Force-sensitive planets—especially Dagobah. If you stumble onto that swamp, turn around and never look back."
He snapped his fingers. "Offensive Bias."
"Affirmative," the AI replied. A shimmering slipspace field unfolded under Daybit and Tezcatlipoca's feet—and in a flash, both vanished.
When they reappeared, they stood amidst a rust-colored district bathed in dim artificial lights. Grime coated the walkways. Thick cables hung like vines. Trash littered every crevice. The buildings stretched upward endlessly like jagged cliffs, casting deep shadows over alleyways swarming with silence.
Offensive Bias's voice echoed. "Welcome to a new galaxy, Daybit. Coruscant Level 2685."
Daybit looked around slowly. "I suppose this district belongs to the poor…"
Offensive Bias responded. "Correct. The lower the level, the more horrifying the conditions become. Level 2685 is categorized as Class-F infrastructure. Medical, security, and civic support systems are nonfunctional. Threat index: orange. Do not linger without shadow backup."
Tezcatlipoca rolled his neck. "Reminds me of a battlefield already."
Meanwhile, atop the quiet silence of Zeta Halo's command spire, Jin-Woo stood with Morgan, the sky above shimmering with soft artificial auroras generated by the installation's core.
Morgan leaned closer to him, her voice low and devoted. "You should've sent me instead, my husband. I could've opened as many gateways as you wanted… anywhere."
Jin-Woo gave her a small smile, brushing his thumb against her cheek. He leaned forward and kissed her forehead softly.
"You've already done more than enough for me."
Before she could respond, Offensive Bias's voice cut in, clinical and steady.
"Update. The Mayan deity—designated as Daybit's servant—has opened fire in Coruscant Level 2685. He has neutralized a minor gang and forcibly reclaimed an abandoned establishment designated 'Club Kasakar.'"
''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''
A shimmering holoscreen appeared beside them, displaying grainy surveillance footage. Tezcatlipoca stood on a dusty platform, one foot atop a downed thug, smoke rising from the barrel of his strange hybrid weapon. Inside the decrepit club, lights flickered erratically as terrified patrons either fled or bowed in submission.
Tezcatlipoca grinned at the terrified crowd and barked out, "Listen up! I'm the owner now. This place belongs to me—Tezcatlipoca, the War God!"
Across the room, Daybit calmly sat at the bar, sipping something fluorescent and bubbling. He didn't look up as he said , "Once we go topside, Tezcatlipoca, you'll switch to spiritual form. I don't need chaos drawing attention at the surface."
,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,
Back at Zeta Halo, Jin-Woo gave a quiet chuckle as he watched the scene unfold.
He turned to Morgan and murmured, "Daybit's methods are unpredictable… and that's exactly what I need. To outlast the Force system of this galaxy... I need agents it can't predict."
Morgan glanced up at him, expression soft. "Still… I want to try to be more help."
Jin-Woo tilted his head toward the sky and spoke calmly, "Offensive Bias. Once I return to my World of Eternal Slumber, can you create some kind of 3D surveillance space—something Morgan can use to spy across Coruscant? Or at least track Daybit's movements. Since a part of yourself is implanted in him… you should be able to."
Offensive Bias responded instantly. "Already completed. Most sentinels stationed within the England section of the Supreme Executor's realm have built the necessary devices. Visual, auditory, and kinetic feed protocols have been stabilized. Security systems are active. They are attuned to Queen Morgan's biological imprint."
Morgan raised an eyebrow, smirking slightly. "So the queen gets more security than the ruler of the realm himself?"
Jin-Woo let out a dry laugh. "It'd be funnier if I somehow got taken down in my own realm. But… that's impossible anyway."
With a simple gesture, Jin-Woo summoned his shadow—dark tendrils wrapping around him and Morgan before instantly shifting them through dimensions.
They emerged inside Camelot's throne room within the England sector of the World of Eternal Slumber.
The air shimmered around a newly-constructed device at the center of the room. It resembled a sphere wrapped in a crystalline structure, but the seat built into it mirrored Morgan's own throne in elegance and command.
A small hovering sentinel glided beside Jin-Woo, blinking with blue light.
"Queen Morgan," Offensive Bias said, "You are now free to begin your test drive."
Without hesitation, Morgan stepped forward, settling into the crystalline throne. The interface lit up immediately, forming a web of glowing lines in the air, outlining the entire surface and subsurface layers of Coruscant. With a single wave of her hand, she magnified one of the sectors—her eyes narrowing with intrigue.
Jin-Woo glanced at the sentinel beside him. "Offensive Bias. Right now, you can't communicate directly through my shoulder implant, correct?"
"Affirmative," the AI replied. "Within the World of Eternal Slumber, my primary signal is routed through this sentinel construct. It supports my mobility inside your realm, which predates even the Precursors. My operational range is limited to the England section unless Queen Morgan herself moves beyond it."
Jin-Woo nodded. "All right then."
Morgan, still observing the display, suddenly scoffed. "Jin-Woo, this machine is amazing. It lets me watch everything. But your scout? Daybit? He's insane."
Offensive Bias chimed in immediately. "Current position of Designated Agent Daybit: he is located five hundred meters from the Jedi Temple. Opposite building. Line-of-sight observation in progress. Visual feeds indicate no confrontation yet."
Jin-Woo stared at the projection, then muttered, "Let him do what he wants. His method works in chaos."
His gaze sharpened slightly. "But if things get too heated you know what to do, Offensive Bias."
"Affirmative," the AI said without hesitation. "If provocation exceeds containment, Daybit and his Mayan Servant will be issued a one-way trip back to the South America Lostbelt. No exceptions."
A deep rumble echoed as Jin-Woo opened another dark portal—this one connecting to the heart of the World of Eternal Slumber. Beyond the swirling void was his personal domain: the core fortress of the Monarch, a castle of obsidian-black spires and shimmering purple veins of mana, rising into a skyless void.
At its peak, the highest tower loomed—the Throne of the Shadow Monarch.
Jin-Woo walked through the portal alone, his footsteps echoing across the blackened stone. The towering doors parted for him without a word. Within the chamber, his shadow army lined the perimeter in silent reverence, more than ten million strong. Bellion stood still, head bowed. Beru watched with folded claws. Igris silently knelt.
Jin-Woo sat atop the throne, letting the weight of existence settle across his shoulders. His Monarch Blade rested lengthwise across his thigh, its black metal humming faintly.
"I will sleep , and prepare for every contigencies ," he said calmly, "until the Galactic Republic's standard calendar hits 13,967. When the Yinchorri Uprising begins… awaken me."
A nearby sentinel blinked with violet light.
"Query," came the mechanical voice of Offensive Bias. "Status requested on the Flood specimen experiments initiated at Iaco Stark's abandoned asteroid base. Current progress on Gravemind gestation: 70%. Shall I proceed to full-scale development and force emergence?"
Jin-Woo closed his eyes slowly.
"Maintain it at seventy percent," he replied. "Gravemind emergence is too dangerous to unleash casually. Keep monitoring. I'll decide when the time comes."
"Affirmative," the AI responded, and the sentinel floated away into shadow.
Jin-Woo leaned back in the throne, letting the abyss close around him. Shadows curled like smoke across the floor, rising to cradle his form in stillness. The realm grew quiet—breathless.
Morgan stepped through the portal just as it began to seal. She gazed up at him—her husband, entombed in living shadow, the man who outpaced divine spirit .
She whispered, "Rest well… my husband."
Morgan stepped closer to the small hovering sentinel, her eyes narrowing. "Offensive Bias… Jin-Woo said the Flood is dangerous. You confirmed that too."
Her voice tightened slightly. "What does it look like?"
The sentinel's iris glowed deep crimson as it projected a shimmering, real-time screen in front of her. A cold chill ran down her spine.
On the display: the abandoned asteroid base once owned by Iaco Stark. But now… it was a nest. An infestation. The once-metallic interior was now wrapped in rotting tendrils of biomass—alien flesh pulsing with yellow sacs, twitching limbs, and tooth-lined maws that grew without symmetry or mercy. Several Lucrehulk-class Separatist ships—once mighty—were now warped, their hulls bent and crawling with corruption. Republic cruisers, long since lost, floated half-submerged in the creeping Flood, their insides hollowed and crawling with screeching parasites.
At the core of the base, the source loomed.
A massive, grotesque mass—tentacled, veined, and pulsating—the proto-Gravemind.
It had grown large. Nearly cathedral-sized. And its tendrils pulsed like a breathing heart, extending deeper into the corrupted ships around it. whispers, and fragments of language occasionally escaped from the maw of the creature, echoing through the void of space.
Bellion, who had quietly stepped up beside Morgan, studied the screen carefully.
"The proto-Gravemind, It's… growing faster. The biomass, the neural density—it's thicker than the last 2 years ."
Bellion turned slightly toward the sentinel. "Is this normal? Does the Flood always… absorb everything?"
Offensive Bias responded without pause.
"Affirmative. The Flood is a singular, parasitic intelligence. Its sole objective: acquire biomass, expand synaptic network, and assemble a unified command structure. Gravemind is the final form. Once achieved, it transcends coordination—it becomes strategy itself."
The sentinel's iris dimmed as the image zoomed in further.
"However, Supreme Executor designated a containment ceiling. Once 70% development is reached, sentinel forces initiate controlled decimation sweeps, reducing progress to 65% to avoid premature Gravemind formation. This loop has been maintained successfully for 66,15 cycle ( 17532 hours AKA 2 years ) ."
Morgan's face darkened, fingers curling at her side. "This… thing . It's patient. Clever. If it ever escapes…"
Offensive Bias finished the sentence coldly: "Extinction-level threat. Category Zero."
Morgan's voice turned dry, thick with sarcasm.
"Thank you, Offensive Bias, for reminding me that if something like that ever ended up in Proper Human History, the entire planet would be fucked."
The sentinel construct said nothing.
She exhaled slowly and turned away.
"I suppose I'll return to my Camelot throne room and learn more about this galaxy of Jin-Woo's through your machines."
Offensive Bias responded in his usual calm tone.
"As you wish, Queen Morgan. Data streams are synchronized. All systems remain at your command."
Bellion stood nearby, his armor gleaming black and purple beneath the faint light. He said nothing—only watched as Morgan departed through the dark portal that connected Jin-Woo's inner sanctum to her own throne room.
The shadows folded in as she stepped through.
And on the other side—within the majestic stonework of her reclaimed Camelot—Morgan didn't hesitate. She crossed the chamber, mounted the stairs to her raised platform, and approached the sphere of dark crystal and silver light that had been crafted for her.
With a graceful motion, she sat. The throne adjusted to her form.
And then she leaned forward—hands resting on the crystalline interface—and dived in.
Her vision shifted instantly, layers of data and holograms flooding into view. Schematics of Coruscant . Strategic Force signatures. Technological briefings from Offensive Bias's logs. Jedi and Sith battle archives. High-definition playback of Daybit's current position.
Morgan's eyes narrowed. She would learn. She would understand.
She was the Queen of a broken history—but now, she stood at the edge of a galaxy that had rewritten the very laws of fate. And she refused to be left behind.
-------------------------------------------------------------
Morgan's eyes didn't leave the streaming layers of data in front of her. She sat composed, one leg crossed, back straight, bathed in the luminous light of the sphere. Her fingers moved with precision, flipping through frames of the galaxy, observing Daybit's progress, and cross-referencing every record Offensive Bias had gathered so far.
Then, without warning, a soft hum echoed from beside her. The small sentinel hovered closer, projecting a quiet signal.
"Queen Morgan," came the cold, even voice of Offensive Bias, "the core black hole has been successfully embedded into the designated planetary pocket. Time dilation is active—ten days of perceived time will now stretch into 9 full years."
Morgan nodded without looking away. "Bellion is overseeing it?"
"Affirmative. The Grand Marshal is present."
But then—the sentinel's light shifted from blue to amber.
"However… there is a complication," Offensive Bias continued. "CHALDEA. The organization. The Sphere. All operational signatures have vanished from current spatial records."
Morgan paused, her gaze sharpening. "…Vanished?"
"Affirmative. No trace remains of their stronghold or its personnel. Including the one identified as Ritsuka Fujimaru."
That name—the one man tied to Jin-Woo's fate more than any other.
Permission requested: Wake Supreme Executor—"
"No," Morgan said sharply, cutting the AI off without hesitation. Her tone was absolute.
"Do not wake my husband."
Her eyes gleamed coldly, voice steady but edged with something darker.
"You and I both understand the truth, Offensive Bias. CHALDEA was the only group arrogant enough to believe they could stand above fate. However…" her gaze narrowed, "…Ritsuka Fujimaru was the only human foolish—and powerful—enough to truly threaten him."
"Jin-Woo never speaks of it lightly. I've seen how tense he becomes… even when he look at the direction of chaldea . He's admitted it himself. Ritsuka is his reincarnated brother. And the one soul this entire galaxy still cannot predict."
She leaned back against her throne, fingers steepled in thought. "But if he's vanished…"
Morgan exhaled slowly, and a small, satisfied smile curled across her lips, "then my husband is safer than he was yesterday."
The sentinel hovered in silence. It made no counterargument. Only backed away slightly, its sensors adjusting, recording her authority.
Morgan's voice softened. "Let him rest."
And with that, she returned to her work, eyes never leaving the data.