Intergalactic conquest with an AI

The Lady in White gave him a look of half smile, half reverence.

"You won, silly. That's what happened."

She stood up and gracefully walked toward him, her presence washing over the room like sunlight through stained glass.

"You fought like a titan. I'm so proud of you." Then she knelt beside him and whispered, "The Blood Clan is no more."

Rex stared at her.

"What?"

Her smile widened.

"I took the liberty of cleaning up while you napped," she said sweetly while brushing imaginary dust off his shoulder. "Your allies were collapsing. You were unconscious. So I did what any good mother would do."

She stood again, her dress fluttering slightly from the residual energy still radiating in the air.

"I claimed their world. Every underground city. Every lab. Every drop of their precious blood."

Rex ran a hand through his hair and looked at the sleeping Zynaria again. Then at 14th and 24th. Then back at the Lady.

"I didn't ask you to do that."

"No, but I decided you needed it done."

Rex sighed and leaned back against the wall while closing his eyes briefly.

"...You're insane."

The Lady in White giggled like a child.

"Thank you, dear. I love you too."

Even though the Lady in White had used her incredible powers to heal most of Rex's wounds from both inside and outside, his body was still far from fully recovered.

His mechanical implants had drained almost all of his energy, and his organic parts had lost too much blood. It was like patching up a broken machine with missing fuel; he could barely stand, let alone fight.

As Rex tried to move, wobbling on his feet, the Lady in White gently placed her hand on her cheek and let out a long sigh. "And where exactly do you think you're going, mister?" she asked, with her voice sounding both amused and concerned.

But Rex didn't stop. Every step he took was slow, painful, and shaky... like dragging his feet through thick mud, but still, he kept going forward, stubborn as ever. "Where do you think?" he grunted through clenched teeth. "I came all the way to this cursed planet to get my girl and my son back. I'm not leaving without them."

The Lady in White raised an eyebrow and smiled softly. "Oh, Rex... there's no need for you to push yourself like this. I've already sent someone to bring them safely to you. They should arrive in just a few minutes," she said, her tone sounding calm and reassuring, like a mother comforting her child after a nightmare.

But before Rex could respond, she waved her hand through the air in a graceful motion. Silver flowers suddenly bloomed around his feet, glowing softly like tiny stars.

Before he could even react, shimmering white chains shot out from the flowers, wrapping tightly around his body and lifting him off the ground.

"What the hell is this?! Let me go!" Rex shouted, his voice filled with rage and disbelief. He struggled with all his strength, but the chains didn't even budge.

In his current state, he couldn't break free; he probably couldn't even if he was at full power. These were no ordinary chains; they were forged from the stellar energy of the White Lady herself.

"Stop struggling and be quiet for once," the Lady in White said, her voice being more stern now. "You're not helping anyone by being stubborn. You need to rest to recover. Let your body heal instead of pushing it to the edge of death."

As she spoke, the chains gently pulled Rex closer, hovering him in midair like a child being carried by invisible arms. There, he floated beside her, unable to do anything except glare and fume.

[Meanwhile, on the planet Xylos—just a few kilometers from the fortress city, atop a tall plateau]

The wind howled softly across the rocky plateau, carrying with it the scent of blood, steel, and ash from the battlefield below. This high ground was now the meeting point for a historic event, an unusual moment of peace in the middle of a brutal war.

On one side of the plateau stood the leaders of the Alliance. In the center was Lilla, seated gracefully inside a beautifully adorned palanquin, its curtains woven from sacred silks that shimmered like moonlight.

She was surrounded by her loyal paladins, each one clad in shining armor, and several high-ranking priestesses who whispered prayers into the wind.

Just a short distance away stood Ys and Cleo, deep in a heated discussion. Their voices were low, but their energy sparked through the air like electricity, one sharp with logic, the other burning with passion.

On the opposite side of the plateau stood the last hope of the planet's defenders... the Old Governor. He wore his old and worn-out power armor, once a masterpiece of military engineering, now scratched and dented from countless battles.

Yet he wore it with pride. His sword and shield were symbols of his command and legacy; they were carried beside him by the Northern and Western generals, his most trusted officers.

The tension on the plateau was thick, like the calm before a storm. Both sides had gathered not for another clash but to witness something far rarer... a duel that would decide the fate of an entire world.

Above the plateau, the sky was crowded with dozens of hovering drones. They floated like quiet metal birds, their lenses glowing as they captured every second of this historic moment.

The feeds were being broadcast live across the galaxy from the command decks of battleships to civilian shelters deep underground.

The Young AI, currently serving as the announcer of the duel, spoke clearly through every screen and speaker.

"This is not just a battle; it is a moment that will decide the fate of an entire world. If the governor wins, the invasion ends. If Princess Cleo is victorious, the city and its people surrender unconditionally."

Back on the ground, emotions were boiling over. The Northern General suddenly stepped forward, his voice loud and desperate.

"Governor, please! I beg you to reconsider! Let me take your place in this duel!" he shouted while his hands trembled slightly as he gripped the governor's sword tightly. His eyes were filled with worry and pain.

But the Old Governor, ever calm, gave a small chuckle, the kind only someone who had seen too many wars could make.

"Hohoho... And why would I let a young brat like you fight in my place when you haven't even been able to beat me in a duel all these years?" he teased him while gently placing a heavy hand on the Northern General's shoulder.

He smiled warmly, his face worn with age but shining with pride. "It's alright, kiddo. I'm not planning on dying just yet. Not until you finally pay me for that wall you blew up! Hohoho."

He patted the young man's shoulder a few times before turning to the Western General.... his oldest comrade-in-arms still alive and His eyes softened.

"It's been a long, hard journey, hasn't it, my old friend?" the governor asked quietly, his voice thick with emotion.

The Western General snorted and gave a short laugh. "Hard? What nonsense. It's been a rose-paved road the entire time! Only someone as soft as you would say it was difficult!" His grin was sharp, filled with the energy of a man decades younger.

Still grinning, he stepped forward to help his old friend fasten the ancient, weather-worn shield to his arm. Once done, he stepped back and saluted with a nod.

"Now go on, you stubborn old horse. I'll watch every second of this duel. Not even a blink will steal the outcome from my eyes," he said, his voice being firm with pride.

The Old Governor looked up at the sky one last time... the same sky he had fought beneath for so many years.

Now, it was blanketed in thick, dark clouds. The scent of rain was in the air, heavy and humid. The tropical storms were coming soon, as they always did. A fitting backdrop for what could be his final battle.

With a slow breath, he began to walk forward... each step was steady, certain. Toward the center of the plateau. Toward the duel.

Across from him, Cleo was already approaching. Her footsteps made no sound, yet her presence was overwhelming. Her long, black hair flowed behind her, untouched by the wind. In her right hand, a sword began to materialize... shaped from pure light and energy, sharp and elegant.

Behind her, six short swords floated into view, orbiting her back like silent stars. Each blade shimmered with deadly precision, crafted by her will and linked directly to her mind.

As the two figures neared the center of the plateau, the winds picked up, and silence fell over the crowd. Allies, enemies, and millions of distant watchers held their breath.

The old governor gave Cleo a single respectful nod, and in response, Cleo simply stared back at him with her face being unreadable, calm like a still lake. Her golden eyes gleamed beneath the darkening sky, showing no emotion, no hesitation. Then, silently, both of their helmets activated.

With a soft hiss of machinery and glimmers of light, sleek armor plates slid into place, first over the governor's wrinkled face, then over Cleo's perfect features, hiding both expressions behind cold steel and glowing visors.

Above them, the clouds rolled and churned as the tropical storm finally arrived in full force. The sky turned nearly black, thunder crackled in the distance, and the wind carried the heavy scent of rain.

Lightning forked across the heavens like the claws of an ancient beast. And as if nature itself waited for the perfect cue, the moment the first thunderclap echoed through the air, the governor struck.

From the center of his shield, a massive beam of concentrated energy blasted forward with a thunderous roar. It screamed through the air, cutting a path of fire and smoke toward Cleo.