Every 5 years, a game unites 10 realms offering the ultimate champion, immortality. Those who are not as successful, will live in wealth and infamy. There is really no loss, isn't it? For sure, there is nothing nefarious about this, right?
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CHAPTER 6 UPPER CITY, OLNIGRAD, THE UNION CAPITAL THE VHARG UNION OF REPUBLICS
The coronation broadcasts reverberated throughout the entire luxury apartment, their melodic tones intermingling with the ceaseless hum of traffic outside. Despite the bustling city sounds, the apartment exuded an air of luxury that surpassed industrial standards. Its spaciousness boasted high ceilings, and large floor-to-ceiling circular glass windows, but the drawn curtains obscured the Eter sunlight, casting a melancholic and muted atmosphere over the otherwise pristine and glossy setting. Amidst the cacophony of traffic and holographic screens, a gentle murmur arose—a distant symphony heralding the opening of a shower.
Beneath the cascading veil of the shower, hushed expletives slipped past lips as the Vharganaut male, adorned with skin akin to delicate peonies, grappled with his elongated, serpentine-like ears that gracefully extended nearly half a meter in length. His gaze fell downwards, allowing the relentless water to ravage his obsidian tresses, while his clenched fists pounded the tiled wall in a raw display of frustration. "It should have been me," he murmured through gritted teeth, punctuating his words with fervent curses. "The crown should have been mine, not to that wretched, cheating Parn."
As the rushing water abruptly ceased, the male unleashed a piercing scream of pure frustration, his guttural cry resonating throughout the opulent confines of the apartment, overpowering even the ambient sounds. However, before his anguished outburst could fully reverberate, an intrusive ringing shattered the air. The phone's insistent chime invaded the tranquil shower room, where every aspect of the male's living space was interconnected in a seamless network. Ceasing his tumultuous howl, he turned his attention towards the source of the disruption.
The ringing persisted, filling the room with its relentless clamor, until the pink-skinned male, with a flick of his hand, controlled his network and promptly answered the call. "Hello?" he uttered, his voice laced with remnants of frustration. "Nikolai, are you there?"
"Yes, I am here," Nikolai replied, his deep voice resonating through the room. He reached for a towel and gracefully wrapped it around his sculpted form. At just 20 years old, his body was a testament to dedication and perfection. It wasn't merely his muscular build and peak physical condition that made him stand out, but rather the meticulous craftsmanship that had gone into his very flesh. Upon closer inspection, subtle lines could be seen crisscrossing his otherwise smooth, pinkish skin, marking the points where his flesh seamlessly melded with a unique metallic alloy. Intricate wiring intertwined with his blood vessels, creating a seamless blend of man and machine.
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The Vharganauts, a race known for their extraordinary technological advancements, had embraced their potential after the gates all over Eter opened hundreds of years ago. The exchange of knowledge, culture, and technology across the realms of Eter had provided them with a glimpse of their own capabilities. From once being a race struggling to understand the intricacies of their regil affinity of electromagnetism, they had evolved into masters of technopathy, harnessing the power of machines with unparalleled finesse. The planet of Vharg had risen to become one of Eter's foremost superpowers, propelled by their insatiable hunger for progress.
