Global Islands: I'm The Sea God's Heir!-Chapter 120: Caelum’s Powers (2)
"We cannot fire first," Aegis decided. "Not yet. If we do, the Nebula Kings will intervene on the Kyros’ side to maintain ’order.’ We will meet them at the border. I will go personally. We will play the role of the humble Emperor one last time."
The "Diplomatic Meeting" was set to take place on a neutral station at the edge of the Helios system. Aegis prepared to depart, but a sudden complication arose. Bella was occupied with the stabilization of the world-core, and Caelum, sensing the shift in the palace’s energy, refused to leave his father’s side.
"Papa can you stay?" Caelum asked, his eyes wide and watery, his small hands clutching Aegis’s imperial cloak.
Aegis sighed, his heart melting. He looked at Felix. "Is the neutral station secure?"
"It’s a Tier 14 construct, My Lord. Shielded against everything but a direct Star-Cracker hit. And we’ll have the Law-Binders in sub-space shadows."
"Fine," Aegis said, picking up his son. "He comes with me. Perhaps seeing a child will reinforce the image of a ’peaceful, developing world’ I’m trying to project."
The Imperial Shuttle docked with the Kyros station an hour later. The station was a cold, clinical environment of white light and silver metal.
Arbiter Malphas stood at the end of a long, crystalline table. He was a being of towering height, his light-form encased in armor that shimmered with the souls of conquered stars.
"Emperor Aegis, You bring a hatchling to a parley of Hegemony? Your lack of decorum is noted."
Aegis sat, placing Caelum on the seat beside him. The boy looked tiny and insignificant against the backdrop of Tier 15 technology.
"He is the heir. He goes where I go. Now, speak of your ’Pacification.’ My world is stable. Your scouts were lost to your own navigational incompetence."
Malphas leaned forward, his helmet’s visor glowing with a predatory red light.
"Incompetence? Forty ships, Aegis? Our analysts suspect ’Causal Interference.’ If we find proof that you have been tampering with Hegemony property, the correction will be... total."
While the two titans clashed with words, Caelum sat quietly, swinging his legs. To any observer, he was bored. In reality, he was dismantling the station’s security.
His mind slipped into the station’s mainframe. He saw the "Diplomatic" fleet outside. He saw that Malphas had already authorized a "Pre-emptive Strike" if the meeting didn’t end in a full surrender of Eternia’s sovereignty.
"How rude," Caelum thought.
He reached out with a thread of Abyssal mana, so thin it was indistinguishable from the background radiation of the station. He found the Kyros fleet’s command-link, the "Causal Anchor" that kept their three thousand ships synchronized.
Then, he did something incredibly subtle. He didn’t break the anchor. He "nudged" it. He introduced a microscopic delay in their communication—a lag of 0.0001 seconds.
To a Tier 15 fleet, this was nothing. But in a high-speed combat engagement, it would cause their weapons to fire exactly three inches behind their targets.
Malphas slammed a hand on the table. "Enough! We will conduct a full planetary scan of Eternia. If you resist, my fleet will begin the cleansing."
Caelum looked up at the Arbiter. He didn’t show fear. Instead, he reached out and grabbed a silver stylus from the table, which was a device used for signing interstellar treaties.
"Shiny!" Caelum chirped.
"Put that down, whelp," Malphas growled, reaching out to snatch the stylus back.
As Malphas’s hand moved toward him, Caelum "accidentally" tripped. He fell forward, his small hand brushing against the Arbiter’s gauntlet.
In that split second, Caelum released a concentrated burst of his "Third Law"—the Silence.
Malphas froze. Not just his arm, but his entire causal existence. For the length of one heartbeat, the High Arbiter of the Kyros Hegemony was removed from the flow of time. He didn’t realize it had happened; to him, there was merely a strange, momentary chill.
Caelum scrambled back into his seat, clutching the stylus.
"Mine!" he giggled.
Malphas shook his head, a sense of deep unease washing over him. He looked at his hand. The armor was fine, but the spirit-stone embedded in his gauntlet, a gem that had survived ten thousand years, had a hairline fracture.
"What... what did you do?" Malphas whispered, looking at the child.
Aegis stood, his hand on Caelum’s shoulder. "He’s a child, Malphas. He wants a toy. If you’re so threatened by a toddler, perhaps your Hegemony isn’t as strong as the chatbox claims."
Aegis turned and walked out, carrying Caelum. Malphas didn’t stop them. He was too busy trying to understand why his internal sensors were suddenly screaming that his causal-integrity had been compromised.
Back on the shuttle, Aegis looked at his son. Caelum was happily chewing on the silver stylus, looking for all the world like a content baby.
"Caelum," Aegis said, his voice serious. "What did you do back there?"
Caelum looked up, his eyes wide and innocent.
"I fell, Papa. Booboo." He pointed to his knee, which had a small, fake scrape he had manifested.
Aegis sighed, leaning back. He wanted to believe it. He wanted to believe his son was just a child. But he had felt the "Stillness." He had felt a power that shouldn’t exist in a Stage 15 entity.
"We have to get ready," Aegis said to the empty air of the shuttle. "Malphas won’t wait. The ’Ghost War’ is over. The ’Star War’ starts tonight."
Caelum leaned his head against his father’s chest, hiding a small, knowing smile. He had sabotaged their command-link. He had cracked the Arbiter’s soul-stone. He had bought his father the opening he needed.
The toddler closed his eyes, his mind already returning to the "Chrono-Nursery." He had five more centuries of training to condense into the next few hours. If the Kyros wanted to cleanse his home, they would have to get past a three-year-old who had already mastered the art of stopping time.
The familial interactions remained warm, but the air of Eternia was now electric with the coming storm. The Hegemony was moving. The Heir was ready.
And the Emperor was about to find out that his greatest weapon wasn’t a Planet-Cracker, but the child he was trying so hard to protect.
