the Virtimite empire

the Virtimite war

Chapter: The March of the Virtimites
High above the crimson atmosphere of Planet Virtimin, the imperial citadel loomed like a monument to domination. It was not merely a palace—it was a fortress forged from conquest, its dark stone walls etched with the history of countless civilizations that had fallen beneath the might of the empire.
At the heart of this colossal structure lay the throne chamber.
The chamber was enormous, its vaulted ceiling stretching so high that the torchlight lining the walls seemed like distant stars flickering in a night sky of black steel. Banners of the empire hung between towering columns, each one depicting the symbol of absolute supremacy.
At the far end of the hall sat the throne.
And upon that throne sat the most powerful being in the empire.
Thragg.
The Grand Regent of the Viltrumites.
His posture was relaxed, yet the air around him carried a suffocating weight of authority. Even in stillness he radiated power—the kind of presence that made lesser warriors instinctively lower their heads.
One of his arms rested on the massive armrest of the throne.
And beneath that arm…
Rested a skull.
The hollow remains of Argall.
The skull had been polished over time, not out of reverence, but as a symbol. A reminder of the empire’s brutal history and Thragg’s rightful claim to leadership after the chaos that followed Argall’s death.
Thragg’s crimson eyes stared forward.
Unmoving.
Unblinking.
Waiting.
Silence filled the chamber like a suffocating fog.
Minutes passed.
Then more.
Thragg did not fidget. He did not sigh. He simply waited.
Because patience was a weapon.
And Thragg wielded it as effectively as any blade.
He was waiting for word from the stars.
Specifically…
From a distant world known as Urath.
A planet that had recently vanished from imperial tracking networks. The disappearance of such a world was not merely an inconvenience—it was an insult.
And insults were something Thragg never tolerated.
Footsteps echoed through the chamber.
Heavy.
Deliberate.
A warrior approached the throne.
The guards lining the chamber did not move. They did not speak. They simply watched as the figure knelt before their ruler.
It was Kregg.
One of Thragg’s most loyal generals.
Kregg bowed his head, though even that motion carried the proud stiffness of a hardened soldier.
“My Regent,” Kregg said.
Thragg’s eyes shifted down toward him.
A simple motion.
Yet it felt as though the entire chamber had grown heavier.
Kregg continued.
“Our scouts have located the missing planet.”
Thragg said nothing.
But the silence was permission to continue.
“Planet Urath has altered its trajectory through an artificial gravitational maneuver. It appears they attempted to hide from our surveillance grid.”
A faint pause.
Then Kregg added:
“They believed distance would protect them.”
For the first time since the report began…
Thragg smiled.
It was not a joyful smile.
It was the kind of smile a predator shows when prey walks directly into its trap.
“How… amusing,” Thragg said quietly.
His voice was calm.
Cold.
Controlled.
But beneath it lay something far more terrifying.
Anticipation.
Thragg slowly leaned forward on the throne.
“General Kregg.”
“Yes, my Regent.”
“Prepare the empire.”
Kregg lifted his head slightly.
Thragg’s eyes burned with ruthless certainty.
“We will remind Urath why hiding from us is impossible.”
The command was simple.
But its meaning was catastrophic.
Kregg rose immediately.
“It will be done.”
The alarms began moments later.
Across the military districts of Virtimin, massive sirens roared to life.
The sound echoed across cities carved from obsidian mountains and metallic spires.
War.
The empire was mobilizing.
Inside the central command hall, Kregg addressed the empire’s strongest commanders.
Standing before him were three of the most dangerous warriors in existence.
Lucan
Anissa
And towering above them with monstrous intensity…
Conquest.
Conquest stood with his massive arms folded, the single mechanical eye in his scarred face glowing faintly. His grin stretched across his face like the promise of violence.
“So,” Conquest rumbled, “we’re finally breaking something again?”
Kregg ignored the mockery.
“The Grand Regent has issued extermination orders.”
Lucan nodded once.
Efficient.
Cold.
“Target?”
“Urath.”
Anissa crossed her arms.
“A hiding planet,” she said, unimpressed. “Cowards.”
Conquest laughed.
A deep, thunderous sound.
“Good. I hate when they surrender too quickly.”
Behind the elite generals stood the rest of the assembled army.
Fifty pureblood Viltrumites.
Warriors bred through generations of brutal survival and genetic dominance.
Behind them floated ranks upon ranks of lesser soldiers.
Nearly a thousand.
Hybrid bloodlines.
Colonial offspring.
Still powerful by the standards of most civilizations—but weak compared to the terrifying might of true Viltrumite blood.
They stood in disciplined formation.
Awaiting their orders.
Kregg’s voice echoed through the hangar.
“Warriors of the empire!”
Hundreds of eyes focused on him instantly.
“Our target attempted to hide from the Grand Regent.”
Murmurs of contempt spread through the ranks.
“Today,” Kregg continued, “we remind the galaxy what happens to those who run.”
He pointed toward the enormous launch gates above them.
“The objective is simple.”
His voice hardened.
“Total domination.”
Then came the final order.
“Leave no survivors.”
The army erupted into motion.
Launch platforms opened.
Warships ignited.
And hundreds of Viltrumites lifted into the sky like a storm of living meteors.
Among the first to depart were the empire’s most powerful warriors.
Kregg.
Lucan.
Anissa.
Conquest.
They burst through the upper atmosphere of Virtimin and into the black ocean of space.
Behind them…
The entire imperial fleet followed.
Thousands of soldiers.
Dozens of warships.
All moving toward one destination.
Far across the galaxy…
The unsuspecting world of Urath rotated peacefully around its star.
Its oceans shimmered.
Its cities thrived.
Its people lived their lives unaware of the approaching nightmare.
Because right now…
The most powerful empire in the universe was on its way.
And at the center of that empire…
Sat a king who never forgave defiance.
Back on Virtimin, Thragg remained on his throne.
Argall’s skull still beneath his hand.
Watching the stars through the palace’s enormous viewing window.
He already knew how this would end.
Urath had made a fatal mistake.
They tried to hide.
And no one…
Ever escaped the reach…
Of Thragg.