Retribution

"You’re going to answer for what you’ve done"

Ezra returns right back to Quartez, the desert winds picking up as if stirred by his fury.

With a single motion, he tosses Khasavar forward like a ragdoll, his body slamming into the sandy soil with a heavy thud that sends a tremor rippling through the ground.

Khasavar groans, coughing up blood as he tries to push himself upright.

The grains of sand clung to his sweat-drenched face, a stark contrast to the arrogance he had displayed mere moments ago.

Ezra stood tall, his presence like a mountain casting a shadow over the young master’s battered frame.

"You will receive full retribution for the destruction you caused," Ezra declares, his voice ringing loud and clear.

The barren land of Quartez seemed to amplify the weight of his words.

Khasavar wiped at his split lip, his trembling hands betraying the fear bubbling beneath his surface.

But despite his condition, he forces a sneer onto his face.

"You think you can hold me?" he spat, his words laced with defiance.

Ezra’s expression didn’t waver.

He steps closer, his boots crunching against the sand with deliberate precision.

Ezra stepped closer, his gaze piercing.

"I don’t think—I know," he intones, his tone as unyielding as the rock beneath Quartez’s desolate landscape.

Khasavar’s sneer falters.

The weight of Ezra’s killing intent pressed down on him, a suffocating force that felt as though it might crush his very soul.

His bravado cracks, revealing the fear that had been gnawing at him since the moment he had laid eyes on his captor.

As Khasavar’s defiance gave way to fear, Ezra knew this was only the beginning.

Khasavar’s gaze darts around, looking for any sign of escape, but there was none.

He was trapped, both by the barren expanse of Quartez and by Ezra’s unrelenting presence.

"You don’t understand what you’ve done," Khasavar hissed, his voice laced with desperation.

Ezra’s lips curved into a cold smile. "Oh, I understand perfectly."

Khasavar’s brow furrowed as a memory clawed its way to the forefront of his mind.

The day he caught wind of the galaxy’s existence, he felt like the luckiest person ever.

And he had chosen a planet, Orion-not that he knows it’s name-to serve as a gateway.

A gateway to conquering the galaxy, a galaxy untouched by other—pristine territory ripe for domination undoubtedly filled with many treasures.

As such, he spared no effort in gathering the necessary personnel and materials to take the most advantage of this opportunity.

Not because of a fear of failure, but because of apprehension that someone else would discover its existence and report to higher ups.

In his mind, the only thing between him and taking over the galaxy was time.

No matter what plan he laid out, Khasavar did not for once think there would be any obstacles to his success.

Yet like a lie, it all came apart with the dungeons destroyed and the hired mercenaries all dead.

In the end, he got nothing but losses in return for his efforts.

Moreover, when he and the ancestor had ventured to confirm its existence, the galaxy was nowhere to be seen, it was gone, vanished without a trace as though it had only been a mirage.

That incomprehensible event had gnawed at him ever since, but with no way to really deduce what had happened, Khasavar had put the matter at the back of his mind.

"The galaxy..." Khasavar muttered, his voice trembling. "It wasn’t there. I saw it...there was nothing"

Ezra’s expression remained inscrutable.

He offered no answers, no comfort and instead let Khasavar stew in his bewilderment, his disbelief.

Hopefully, the questions drive him to the brink of madness.

"Arrgh!" Khasavar lets of a howl filled with madness, causing a reverberation in the air. "I-I didn’t mean-arrgh!"

Ezra kicked him, cutting his words short.

But Khasavar continues, trying to force his words out.

"I didn’t know it would-

"Would what?" Ezra interrupts, his tone icy. "lead to the deaths of thousands?"

Khasavar’s mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping for air, but no words came out.

The weight of his actions—actions he had dismissed as inconsequential—was now crushing him.

"You treated lives as though they were nothing more than pawns in your little game," Ezra continued, standing tall once more. "And now you’ll face the consequences."

As the winds howled across the desolate plains, the Transcendents who had gathered remained silent, their faces grim.

Vanessa, the only one brave enough to step forward, placed a hand on Ezra’s shoulder.

"Ezra," she began, her voice steady, "what’s the plan?"

Ezra didn’t turn to face her.

His gaze remained fixed on Khasavar, who now knelt in the dirt, his shoulders slumped in defeat.

"He will answer for what he’s done," Ezra responds, then turning to face her and the rest of the Transcendents.

"While I would like to have you take a beating at him yourselves, your attacks won’t do much to him right now. You all need to grow stronger"

And before they she say anything further, Ezra disappears, taking Khasavar with him.

The barren planet they arrived on was a stark contrast to Ketta, being of a Gray soil rather red.

But unlike the quiet nature of Ketta, this planet is filled with noise, its surface was littered with activity as we see natural forces bending in an unnatural manner.

Piles metal scraps and wires are floating around in a orderly but chaotic fashion throughout the place.

This is made possible because of the authority delegated to Zydrax within the sovereign universe, allowing him to utilize gravity as his limbs and subtly reshape landscapes, though only in little capacity.

"Zydrax," Ezra calls out, his voice echoing across the metallic wasteland.

[What took you so long?] Zydrax’s tone was cheeky, a faint amusement laced in his words as he takes note of Khasavar.

Ezra ignored the jab. "Are they ready?"

"Finished them a month ago," Zydrax replied, smug. "You’re the one who’s late"

Zydrax directed Ezra’s attention to a corner of the workshop.

There, two sets of armlocks lay on the floor, gleaming ominously under the planet’s dim light.

The armlocks were a forged from Ladium—the rare metal Ezra had acquired from the Desolate Madlands secret realm.

Their design is nothing elegant, only brutal, as it aimed for efficiency over anything else.

Not to mention Zydrax isn’t yet capable of doing such designs.

Sturdy chains connected cuff braces made to bind both the hands and legs of even the strongest foes.

"You barely managed to make these" Ezra noted, inspecting the armlocks.

Zydrax chuckled. "Ladium isn’t exactly forgiving. But they’ll do their job"

Satisfied, Ezra lifted the armlocks and turned to Khasavar, who had been watching the exchange with a mixture of confusion and dread.

Khasavar’s struggles were futile as Ezra approached.

With little stress, Ezra locks the cuffs onto Khasavar’s wrists and ankles, the chains rattling as they snapped into place.

"What is this?" Khasavar spat, his voice rising with panic. "You can’t—"

"I already have," Ezra interrupted, his tone as cold as the Ladium restraints.

The armlocks were more than just physical restraints; they were a symbol of Khasavar’s complete incapacitation.

No amount of strength or cunning could free him now.

With Khasavar now secured as a prisoner, Ezra turns to Zydrax. "How is it going? What’s the rate of progress?"

[It’s going badly] Zydrax let’s out flatly. [As for progress rate, I would say five percent]

Ezra raises a brow. "Is that a lot or a little?"

[Very annoyingly little]

"Hmm" Ezra nods. "I guess I’ll leave you to it then"

Capturing Khasavar had been Ezra’s mind for a long time.

As such, he had naturally wondered how to keep him bound at whenever time he was eventually caught, because Ezra was dead set on making sure he suffered.

Moreover, as a rank four, now rank five Transcendent, their is little within the sovereign universe that he wouldn’t be able to break out of.

This led to him telling Zydrax to make those armlocks many months ago in preparation.

Ezra teleports back to Quartez, the barren landscape giving way to familiar sands.

Khasavar, now bound and powerless, is forced to his knees.

The once-mighty conqueror looked up, his eyes filled with a mixture of rage and despair.

"This isn’t over" Khasavar growled.

Ezra’s gaze was unyielding. "No, it’s not. But for you, it will be"

As the sun dipped below the horizon, Ezra turned his attention to the far reaches of the Sovereign Universe.

This was only the beginning of Khasavar’s reckoning—and the challenges yet to come.

Because in the next instant, Ezra looks to the Transcendents, who are still unsure of what to do and points at Khasavar.

"He’s bound and can’t break free, so there’s no need to worry" he proclaims. "You may do as you wish to him"

To this, the expression of everyone perks up.

Confirming his statement, Ezra tosses him in front like a ragdoll yet again, but with more force this time, so he rolls and eats dust for a bit before coming to a halt.

The Sovereign Universe stretched out before Ezra, vast and unyielding.

He had achieved his immediate goal, but the cost of his actions was yet to be determined.

He knew the Exalom House would come looking for answers.

While universal concealment had definitely made sure he left no trace of himself back at their base, Ezra had grown familiar with the fact that fate loved to play games, so he wouldn’t be surprised if the incident became linked to him in some way.

But he didn’t intend to slow down either.

Ezra would be ready for them as well.