*Sigh…* "How long is this going to last… At this rate, we might even lose..." A deep, almost otherworldly voice came mumbling from the pitch-black darkness of the room, clear weariness in his tone.

In the middle of the wide, expansive throne room was a flight of stairs about 5 steps high, tinted in a mixture of black and gold. Atop these steps laid a large, magnificent throne carved out of black and red crystals, decorated with various glowing, futuristic metals resembling that of bones of different species giving it a feint yet ominous air of death.

Sat atop such a throne was the figure of death himself, his clean, handsome, snow-white, pale face shrouded in darkness only allowing one to see his fiendish, glowing blood-red eyes, the 10 glowing red lines going down from his eyes, 5 on each to show off his might and power, 2 white horns on his head glowing a similar colour with a pattern engraving flame completely unique, his grand black and red metal armour matching the patterns of his horns, a great sword leant to the side of his magnificent throne.

he lifted his head and looked around the pitch-black room that was illuminated only by the natural night vision possessed by his race in order to try and get his mind off what was bothering him.

It was one of his favourite and most common pass times since he had taken quite a liking to art. The room was indeed an exquisite piece of work, no doubt made by the best architects his empire had to offer.

It was a wide, expansive, high room that was more than big enough for several hundred people. The high ceiling above him was predominantly black, with golden decorations as highlights. Hanging from the ceiling were numerous chandeliers made of precious stones of all colours of the rainbow that emitted a fantastic, dreamlike radiance that did not give off actual light, its beauty only able to be appreciated by those races that possessed dark vision.

Seven flags emblazoned with ancient shalker symbols were hung on the glass walls that allowed anyone to peer outside at the magnificence of moving space, stars glistening in their direction. Truly, there were many things for his eyes to get lost by in the room, but for some reason, after drifting in his own thoughts for long enough, his gaze always landed back towards his shalker subordinates, all 20 of them kneeling down on one knee right before the steps up to the throne, ready to receive any order.

*Slam*

Suddenly, the two large metal doors of the throne room were thrust wide open with an astounding slam, startling everyone in the room, including the almighty presence on the throne, the figure of a short, panting boy at the entrance of the two doors, trying to catch his breath.

"Huh? What is the meaning of this? How dare you intrude on the sanctity of the throne room unannounced an—" A proud shalker guard yelled, pure anger in his voice before he was interrupted by the boy's somehow even more overpowering scream.

>

>

The lord roared an almighty roar, slamming his hands on the armrest of his seat with such force that his throne almost shattered in two and the entire, beyond massive ship, began to shake.

>

>

>

His voice resounded and echoed around the entire room, all of his guards nervously standing and listening with heavy sweat running down their faces.

>

>

>

Olvad bowed deeply in understanding, before lifting his head and looking at the frustrated face of his overlord with a feeling of fear unlike he had ever experienced before as he spoke.

>

The Shalker lord's deep, blood-red eyes grew wide hearing his name, putting his hands on his mouth as he began to deeply ponder.

>

The shalker lord mumbled to himself before he was interrupted by a sudden voice.

>

He took a deep breath and responded to his subordinate.

>

Olvad seemed quite confused why his lord would demand such a thing of him, but he was in no position to ask questions or reject his offer so he answered the only way he could.

>

>

With a grand wave of his hands, still sitting down on his throne he ordered, making Olvad bow with grace, leaving the room with 10 shalker guards, the faint sound of the doors closing in his departure.

The Shalker lord took a deep breath, pulling out a glass of wine from thin air as he began to sip, deep into his thoughts as his brain began to hurt immensely.

>

He took another sip of blood-red wine before continuing his thoughts and faint mumbles as the entire situation made all of his problems and anxieties take centre stage in his mind...

>

… … *Sip*

>

He spoke, playing with the wine glass in his right hand, his gaze fixated on his kneeling subordinates before shifting it towards the emptiness of space out of his glass panel walls, getting lost in the grandness of the galaxy that he knew rightfully belong to him and him alone...