The announcement spread across the galaxy.

"The Grand Opening of the Origin Capital, in one week."

For most, it sounded impossible.

For a clan barely months old to declare its own capital star system was madness in itself. But what truly shattered precedent was the second line.

"All are welcome."

Until now, only the most powerful clans had capitals, and every one of them guarded their worlds like divine relics. Even top-ten galactic clans rarely opened their gates to outsiders.

Their capitals were symbols of legacy and dominion.

But the Origin Clan, in its audacity, threw open the doors to everyone.

...

From the edges of the galaxy, starships began their long journey.

The Origin Capital sat outside the galactic routes. It took days of warp travel and multiple Nexus transfers to reach it.

Yet still, thousands departed the very day of the announcement.

The first ships began to arrive even before the week had passed.

First came the minor clans. For them, the Origin Clan represented something more than wealth or politics.

It represented hope.

The Knowledge Spheres had changed everything, but only the great clans had access. At the imperial banquet, Adrian signed deals with top clans.

Even though the knowledge spheres were already sent to every empire, only the top clans and imperial clans got access to them.

The smaller clans had to claw for scraps, buying second-hand versions at absurd prices.

Now, for the first time, they had a chance to trade directly. A chance to stand in the same light as giants.

...

As the first fleets dropped out of warp, what they saw silenced even the most arrogant patriarchs.

Seventy worlds, perfectly aligned, orbiting in harmonic patterns around the luminous origin construct.

And above them, etched across the void like divine handwriting, hung a massive formation.

Its sheer scale dwarfed comprehension.

It wrapped around the entire system, runes the size of continents flickering faintly.

"What in the stars…"

A Stellar Patriarch murmured from the viewport of his flagship. His crew stood frozen behind him, faces pale.

He had seen fortress formations, even planetary shields on the frontlines, but this was beyond any known limit.

The formation didn't orbit a single world. It wrapped an entire star system.

Even from light-years away, one could see it.

"That… that's not possible…"

His chief inscriber stepped forward, hands trembling as she zoomed the display. Her voice cracked.

"Those runes… I don't recognize a single one."

None could decipher the symbols. Not even the most seasoned Stellar stage inscribers.

...

The ships slowly drifted toward Origin Gate One, the massive registration hub orbiting the system's outer boundary.

Inside the terminals, each visitor was required to present their Node.

Usually, no one could access one's Node without the owner's permission, so no one made a big deal out of it.

The process was fast. A single rune etched onto the surface, glowing faintly white.

Most assumed it was a simple registration charm, security protocol, nothing more.

Then came the first shock.

A Stellar Patriarch, one of the first arrivals, raised his Node to check transmission logs.

The blue light of Lexaria's network flickered and changed.

Golden-white radiance filled the void. A message scrolled across the holographic interface.

› Origin Net: Connection Established

› Registering mana signature…

› Registration Successful.

He blinked. "What… is this?"

Around him, others began shouting similar questions.

"I can't reach the Galactic Net!"

"My comms, my forums, everything's gone!"

A younger cultivator jabbed at his Node frantically. "What's Origin Net?"

Within minutes, hundreds of ships were registering, and every Node displayed the same message.

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An entire star system disconnected from Lexaria's control.

...

As the visitors' ships entered the system, the view unfolded before them.

Their first step inside Origin Capital.

The sight left them speechless.

Massive spacelanes glittered with formation lights. Cityscapes on each planet gleamed with towers.

Even if some were half finished, still in the works, the sight was grand.

The central world, the Origin Construct, rose from the heart of the system. Its central tower pierced the void and surrounded the center of the formation.

The core of the formation remained hidden from prying eyes.

Even the most stoic guests found themselves speechless.

A Stellar Patriarch whispered, "They built all this in two months…?"

Another muttered, "Did the Origin Clan earn this much from knowledge spheres?"

As the guests explored the system, curiosity turned to disbelief.

They noticed their Nodes behaved differently. Faster, smoother, more responsive.

There were no network delays, no Lexarian watermark, no surveillance pings.

Then someone discovered how to switch between networks.

By tapping into their Node's options, they could alternate between Galactic Net and Origin Net.

When the first cultivators did this, the Lexarian forums exploded.

Within hours, the word spread.

"The Origin Clan has created a new Net."

"Is this even possible?!"

Screens across the galaxy flashed with headlines.

"Origin Clan Challenges Lexaria's Another Monopoly!"

Screenshots of the golden interface spread. By the end of the day, every major news channel across the galaxy was running the same headline.

"The Origin Clan unveils the Origin Net, A Galactic Net independent from Lexaria's Galactic Net."

Even the Lexarian overseers monitoring the Galactic Net saw millions of users disconnecting and reappearing.

And this was before the official opening even began.

...

Three days before the opening, fleets belonging to top one hundred galactic clans began to arrive.

Among them were great merchant clans, battle clans, and legacy families whose names echoed across millennia.

Merchant clans arrived in droves, their leaders whispering to each other about trade opportunities, profits, and the impossible potential of the Origin Net.

Their ships gleamed with wealth, hulls etched with runes that shimmered gold and jade. Some carried entire cargo bays filled with rare materials, hoping to establish first contact, first contracts.

"Did you see the origin net?" one merchant patriarch hissed to another as their vessels docked.

"Imagine the possibilities," another murmured, eyes gleaming. "Private channels, untraceable communications, the smuggling routes alone—"

"Careful," a third warned. "The Origin Patriarch isn't Drakenholt. He won't tolerate that."

But the veterans, the true Stellar Patriarchs, looked not at the Origin Net, but above the star system.

The formation still loomed, glowing faintly above the entire system.

They felt its hum. Its rhythm. Its impossible scale.

Unlike the small clans, these were veterans of the galaxy. They had seen fortress worlds, siege formations that could withstand demon hordes, and planetary shields powered by essence crystals the size of mountains.

But this was something else entirely.

"This isn't a planetary shield…"

The words came from Patriarch Vorn of Clan Ironspire, a grizzled Stellar who spent most of his time on the frontlines.

"It's… one formation covering the whole star system!"

His chief inscriber stepped forward, face pale. She had spent two centuries studying runic theory under Lexarian masters.

"Who could have even inscribed something like this?!" Her voice cracked. "The precision required, the mana channeling, the sheer scale—"

"Even Lexaria's archives have nothing like this recorded!" another Stellar interrupted, his Node flickering as he searched frantically through galactic databases.

One Stellar laughed in disbelief, "Even if you could design it, how did they even power it?"

Because this, what Adrian had done, broke more than one law of the galaxy. It broke limits.

Formations required power sources. Planetary shields drew from essence veins deep within worlds, or massive crystals.

But a system-wide formation? The energy requirements would drain entire star clusters.

"Look at the planets," Vorn commanded, pointing at the viewport.

His crew zoomed in on the nearest world. Its surface gleamed with cities, forests, oceans, thriving, untouched.

"No essence drain. No crystal farms. No visible power arrays."

The chief inscriber's hands trembled. "Then where is the mana coming from?"

No one answered.

...

By the fifth day, Imperial envoys arrived, their ships cloaked in Aethelian gold, Duranthian crimson, Volkrith obsidian, Emberion azure, Scaelith silver, and Lexarian white.

Each fleet carried the weight of empires, their hulls inscribed with formation arrays that could level star systems.

The Aethelian vessels came first, their golden armor blazing like miniature suns. At their head flew the Emperor's personal envoy, a Dual-Essence Stellar known as Castian.

His reputation preceded him, assassin, diplomat, executioner. The Emperor's blade in human form.

Duranthia followed, their crimson warships moving in perfect geometric formations.

Their envoy was Lady Seris, a cold-eyed strategist who had conquered twelve star systems without losing a single soldier.

Volkrith's obsidian dreadnoughts slipped through the void like ghosts, their presence felt more than seen.

Each empire sent its best. Each came to witness the impossible.

Then came the representatives of Lexaria itself. Their arrival silenced even the boldest merchants.

The Lexarian fleet was small, only three vessels, but their presence suffocated the void.

Pure white hulls covered in flowing script, runes that shifted and changed with every passing moment.

At their head stood Archscribe Morvain, a being whose age was measured in millennia.

He had inscribed the first Galactic Net node. Had written the formations that powered half the galaxy's infrastructure.

And now, for the first time in thousands of years, someone had created something beyond his understanding.

His eyes fixed on the formation above, and his expression revealed nothing.

But his hands, hidden within his robes, clenched tight.

And finally, the Top clans that attended the imperial banquet arrived.

A silver-armored fleet entered through the void, Clan Duskbane.

At its forefront, Kaelith herself stood within her command vessel, watching the light of the formation ripple across her ship's hull.

Behind her, her honor guard stood at attention, each a Stellar in their own right.

"So," she murmured, "this is the Origin Capital…"

Her eyes rose toward the formation spanning the system, each rune hidden within layers of folded space. She could feel its depth.

Unlike the others, she didn't marvel at its scale. She searched for its purpose.

Her expression hardened. "That's not a shield."

Her second-in-command, a scarred warrior named Theron, stepped forward. "Then what is it, my lady?"

Kaelith's gaze sharpened, "We need to see."

She gestured, and her fleet accelerated toward the Origin Construct.

Around them, thousands of ships filled the void, merchants, warriors, diplomats, spies. All drawn to the same impossible beacon.

All wondering the same thing.

What had the Origin Clan truly created?

...

Back on the Origin Construct, the clan prepared for the grand opening.

Adrian stood in the central command tower, overlooking the system.

Selena worked beside him, as she adjusted formation parameters. "The outer ring is stable. Inner defensive layers respond within milliseconds."

"Energy distribution?" Adrian asked.

"Balanced across all nodes. No fluctuations." She paused, glancing at him. "You know they're all terrified, right?"

Adrian's expression remained calm. "Good."

Varik entered, "Final count, forty-seven top one hundred clans confirmed. All six empires sent envoys. Lexaria sent Archscribe Morvain himself."

Selena whistled low. "Morvain. That's not a compliment."

"He wants to understand the formation," Adrian said simply. "Let him try."

Below, in the embassy halls, envoys from every empire were already stationed, each waiting for a glimpse of the man who had broken Lexaria's monopoly, not once, but twice.

Across the system, citizens, merchants, and guests marveled at the order, at the aura of safety inside here.

The streets of the Origin Construct bustled with life. Vendors sold knowledge spheres in open markets, their prices fair, their quality verified by Origin seals.

And above it all, the formation pulsed gently, a heartbeat felt by every soul within the system.

None yet knew the truth, that the vast formation above wasn't merely for show.

And its heart, pulsing quietly, was the Origin Net itself.