CHAPTER 70: DRAYYORS SPACESHIP HANGAR

The room where the spaceships were kept looked beautiful and nice to the eyes.

It was always locked, and the inside was simply magnificent.

The walls were steel-looking, draped in intricate decorations, almost like someone had mistaken this for a throne hall.

A place where spaceships were kept clearly didn’t need all that, but it was nice though. It gave the place a sort of prestige.

The lights above weren’t the regular bulbs. They glowed with a blue hue, humming softly, giving the place a futuristic, almost holy feel.

There were long pipes running through the sides of the wall—some thick, some small. A few hissed quietly, releasing bursts of steam—soft and even pleasant to look at.

The floor was clean, way too clean. Smooth metal surface, polished to the point it reflected the legs of the ships resting on them.

And the smell? A bit smoky, like engine oil mixed with something synthetic.

The spaceships came in all shapes and sizes. Some tall, towering like standing beasts. Others were flat and wide, with wings that stretched like giant eagles.

The first ship closest to the entrance was crimson red, bulky at the sides, shaped almost like a scorpion’s body.

It had long legs folded beneath it and a pointed nose that looked like it could pierce a mountain.

That one was called the Horn Blaster.

Meant for combat. Could survive ten space strikes without flinching. The cockpit glass was tinted black and stretched out long, like the visor of a helmet.

That was what was known as battle ships, at least Drayyors’ version. They were similar to the ones Hellfott brought but with each planet, each different design.

Next to it was a much smaller ship.

Sleek. Smooth. White like polished bone.

This one had no visible weapons. It wasn’t for war.

It was a scout vessel, meant for speed. Could vanish from radar in seconds.

Julian remembered hearing that it could bend its own energy signature.

They called it The Whisper Jet.

It didn’t make a sound when it moved.

Then came the big one.

The one shaped like a damn bird.

Silver all through, shaped with curves that made it look like a predator from the sky.

Its wings spread wide, and they weren’t just for looks. They folded and expanded in different ways depending on what mode the ship was in.

They called this one Sky Tyrant.

It could carry up to fifty soldiers and still fly like a knife through space.

Engines at the back of it hummed quietly, even when idle.

Towards the far end of the room were a couple of weird-shaped ships.

One was shaped like a spinning disk with a bubble dome on top.

Another looked like a cube with rotating edges.

Clearly experimental.

Some ships were dusty—unused for years.

Others had guards near them, like someone had been assigned to stand watch.

And there, in the center, on a raised circular platform, sat a silver-black ship.

The Emperor’s pick, the one meant for Julian to leave the planet, it had been specially selected by the person in charge of the spaceship.

Simple design. Compact. Beautiful.

Ready to fly.

Julian walked into the place, in awe with the so many spaceships. But then, what gave him an inner joy was the fact that he was the commander of them all.

He was literally the owner, and then, he didn’t know the ones Hellfott had.

At some point, Julian felt proud. It was actually proudness but then, satisfaction. A sense of accomplishment. All the fights and ruthlessness wasn’t for nothing.

It was simply a testament to how he could just inherit an empire he didn’t build.

But then, that seemed to be the way. Perhaps you didn’t really have to start from scratch. It was what the Imperium of Archos were doing. They didn’t build their empire.

The millions of soldiers they had wasn’t theirs. At first, when they invaded Zyros and exploded, Julian had questioned why they did so.

It was their chance to inherit an empire of soldiers and a planet in general. But then, Commander Nethul had exploded it.

His reason would be simple, at least what Julian thought was his reason.

Zyros was just too small for him. It was a disgrace. A shame that someone of his rank had to invade that sort of planet.

’I expected some sort of resistance—’

Julian remembered the commander’s words.

It seemed the commander had been more of disappointed and so, with that anger, he decided to explode the planet and not take anything out of it.

When you think about it, there was actually nothing to take out. Zyros had nothing. They had literally little soldiers.

Little to the extent that Commander Nethul himself killed them all with that foggish stuff.

Julian sighed.

Anytime he thought of something, it just led to remembering the Imperium.

Anytime!

Any goddamn time!

Anytime he thought about something, it led to how Commander Nethul exploded his planet.

This was simply something he had to face.

Julian wasn’t some OP character. It may have seemed he killed a hundred soldiers like a god, but then, he was far from being a god.

In this universe Julian lives in, he is weak if you thought about it like that.

This universe contains so many brutal galaxies and planets which Julian would later explore and frankly, the power he has is nothing compared to the type of beings he would meet in the next arc (breaking the fourth wall).

Even against Commander Nethul, he wasn’t so sure to win.

But he had hope, at least if there was one thing he would do for Luiin, this was it. This was a way to make her not on his mind for the most of it.

The spaceship commander was a male, a young slender, young Drayyorsain.

Julian looked at him now and he looked back with those big enthusiastic eyes of his.

"The spaceship is all powered up."

"Thank you," Julian said and hit him on the shoulder.

Julian saw that the young man became very excited he whispered in excitement.

"The Emperor touched me by the arm."

Julian grinned, he was happy to see that he was making someone happy.

He looked around the place and wondered how this place survived from the war.

It seemed it wasn’t affected.