Above Velmora Prime, tethered by graviton chains that shone like molten rivers, floated the Skyhold:
A titanic fortress that served as the Dominion's orbital command, manufacturing devastation and broadcasting control across the entire hemisphere.
The Skyhold was not just a stronghold.
It was a symbol:
• That Velmora belonged to the Dominion.
• That no one could ever leave.
• That the sky itself was locked and owned.
So long as the Skyhold stood, Velmora's dream of freedom was a lie.
It had to fall.
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The Battle Plan
For weeks, Threx Soluun, Amari Vey, and the newly unified resistance worked tirelessly:
• Captured graviton sleds were refitted into assault transports.
• Saboteur squads were trained to disable the Skyhold's anti-orbital defenses.
• Strike teams were hand-picked for the final breach.
Zaraya Starheart stood among them, no longer the reckless meteor alone.
She was a keystone now—the rallying heart of Velmora's fury and hope.
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The Assault Begins
Under the cover of a meteor storm (engineered by hacked Dominion weather satellites), the Velmorian fleet rose from the surface like a swarm of fireflies.
Upward.
Past the shattered moons.
Toward the black fortress that had ruled their sky for lifetimes.
The Skyhold's defenses awakened instantly:
• Rail cannons rumbled.
• Particle beams lanced through the void.
• Swarms of Dominion interceptors screamed from hidden bays.
Explosions flowered against the stars.
Hundreds died in minutes.
Still, they climbed.
Still, they fought.
For the first time in living memory, Velmora dared to touch the sky.
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The Breach
Zaraya led the vanguard assault personally:
• Smashing through the Skyhold's hangar gates with a cosmic pulse blast so bright it left afterimages in orbit.
• Clearing corridors filled with Dominion death squads, her fists burning with starlight.
Amari's saboteur teams planted graviton disruptors on key struts.
Threx coordinated the fleet to keep the Skyhold isolated.
It was brutal.
It was bloody.
It was working.
Until he arrived.
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The First Clash: Zaraya vs Zar'Khul Prime
The gravity shifted.
The air seemed to freeze.
A heavy, resonant thrum echoed down the steel halls.
And from the central core chamber strode a nightmare:
Zar'Khul Prime.
• Blackened skin like cracked stone.
• Eyes of burning cold.
• A Void Pike in his hand, singing with energy drawn from dead stars.
Zaraya felt her cosmic pulse stutter at the mere sight of him.
He radiated not just strength—but inevitability.
"Starborn," he said, voice deep and calm. "You have come far to shatter your own chains. Allow me to show you the mercy you cannot show yourself."
And then he struck.
⸻
The Duel
Their clash was like two titans wrestling inside a sun:
• Zaraya's fists blazed with raw cosmic force.
• Zar'Khul's pike drank that energy, twisting it into crushing graviton waves.
Walls collapsed. Floors melted. Airlock seals ruptured.
Blow after blow after blow—
Zaraya fought harder than she ever had,
but Zar'Khul was not a mere soldier.
He was a predator of hope.
For every strike she landed, he countered two.
He didn't fight for victory.
He fought to make her kneel.
⸻
The Turning Point
At last, Zaraya faltered.
Wounded. Breathless.
Her cosmic pulse flickered—dampened by Zar'Khul's void-field.
He stood over her, Void Pike raised for the killing blow.
"You are not destiny," he said coldly.
"You are an accident."
⸻
But Zaraya, gasping, bleeding, laughed.
Through bloodied lips, through cracked ribs, she laughed in his face.
"Maybe," she rasped.
"But accidents… start revolutions."
And she unleashed a final, desperate pulse—
Not at him,
but at the graviton chains tethering the Skyhold to Velmora below.
The chains shattered.
The Skyhold's stabilizers failed.
The fortress lurched, ripping from its moorings, spinning into chaos.
Zar'Khul staggered back.
Zaraya grabbed a sparking gravity sled and plunged herself into open space, spiraling away from the Skyhold's heart.
⸻
The Aftermath: Victory at a Price
The Skyhold cracked apart, spilling fire and debris into the thin upper atmosphere.
Dominion forces scrambled, fled, burned.
Velmora's sky was no longer shackled.
The people below saw it.
And in the ruins, across the world,
the cry rose like a tidal wave:
"LIBERASTRA! LIBERASTRA!"
⸻
But Zaraya knew it was not over.
She had survived Zar'Khul by seconds, by luck, by desperation.
Next time, he would be ready.
And next time…
She would have to be more than lucky.
She would have to be legendary.
Story Bridge: Before the Fall
⸻
The World That Watched
For the first time in remembered history, Velmora Prime was free to look up and see stars without chains.
The people wept when the Skyhold fell.
Songs, long forbidden, returned to the winds.
Children pointed to the sky and whispered "Liberastra" like a prayer.
But the wise ones knew:
Victory is not survival.
Survival is only the beginning.
The Zarketh Dominion would not let Velmora's rebellion go unanswered.
Even now, as the ruins of the Skyhold still burned across the stratosphere, something worse descended:
The Throne Shard.
⸻
The Throne Shard
A weapon of legend.
• A mobile command citadel, forged from the shattered core of a neutron star.
• Home to Zar'Khul Prime's elite forces: death squadrons, voidlords, engineered terror-beasts.
• Powered by a living singularity at its heart.
It was said the Throne Shard had never been defeated.
It had silenced nine worlds without setting foot on the ground.
Now, it came for Velmora.
And leading its advance, aboard its black decks—
was Zar'Khul Prime, still very much alive, still very much enraged.
⸻
Preparations for the Last Stand
In the broken valleys and crystal ruins, the resistance rallied:
• Engineers fashioned weapons from Skyhold debris.
• Menders healed warriors burned and broken.
• Mystics whispered to the old energies of Velmora, awakening long-dormant defenses.
• Children painted the banners of the free.
Every village, every tribe, every rebel cell pledged their final strength.
They knew:
If the Throne Shard landed, Velmora would burn.
This battle would decide it all.
⸻
Zaraya's Quiet Night
The night before the battle, Zaraya walked alone to the edge of a shattered ridge overlooking the Silver Wastes.
The stars pulsed gently above, unchained at last.
She sat, staring up, feeling the weight of a thousand hopes pressing against her soul.
• She thought of the orphan she once was, staring through mining grates at distant lights.
• She thought of the Cradles, the Stone Spine, the Gathering at the Broken Moons.
• She thought of Threx, who had taught her patience.
• She thought of Amari, who had taught her discipline.
• She thought of the little boy whose name she never learned, who had died smiling after she broke his shackles.
Tears slid down her cheeks — silent, furious, grateful.
She wasn't afraid to die.
But she was terrified of failing.
At her side, something flickered:
A tiny mote of cosmic light, hovering in the air—
—the primordial pulse she had first drunk from so long ago.
It pulsed once.
Steady.
Certain.
"You are not alone," it seemed to whisper.
Zaraya closed her eyes, drew a long, trembling breath, and rose to her feet.
No matter what came next—
She would not break.
⸻
Final Moments Before the Storm
At dawn, across the shattered fields of Velmora, the armies gathered.
• Resistance fighters stood in cobbled-together exo-armor.
• Crystalborn seers hummed ancient battle-chants.
• The banners of the Broken Moons flew from the ramparts.
Threx Soluun, weathered and proud, clasped Zaraya's shoulder.
"You carry more than your own life into battle," he said.
"Remember: even if you fall, the flame must rise."
Amari Vey simply punched her lightly on the arm and smiled.
"You're too stubborn to lose," she said.
⸻
In orbit, the Throne Shard darkened the sun.
Its engines howled.
Its armies fell like black rain.
The final battle had begun