On the edge of infinity, where space itself crumbles like old concrete under acid rain, lies the world of Empty Beach. Not a beach, but a dumping ground for shattered realities. The debris of dead galaxies drifts here, and neon megacities cling to them like the last sparks in a dying lamp. Space islands float in the black ether like rotten ice floes, and darkness greedily licks their edges, sucking out the light drop by drop. In this universe, the gods either sleep eternally or have gone mad so long ago that even their cries have become static.
Survival here is the only currency that never loses its value.
Earth. Lower levels of the New Eden Megalopolis.
Sector 404. 03:14 local time.
Acid rain lashed the rusty siding of the abandoned factory, as if the sky itself wanted to dissolve this world. The drops hissed, mixing with fuel oil, blood, and chemical fumes. Astra pressed her back against the cold, wet concrete wall, breathing heavily through her teeth. The synthetic jacket on her shoulder was torn to shreds, revealing pale skin and an old crescent-shaped scar—a gift from the past she had never learned to forgive.
A few meters away, in the thick shadow of the containers, something was slurping and squelching. A Garbage Ripper. A creature that had escaped from the Corporation's underground labs. Three meters of intertwined flesh and hydraulics, a mouth like a meat grinder for titanium beams, eyes—dull red lenses that had already registered her scent.
Astra quickly checked the clip of the old shotgun. Three rounds. Three measly chances.
"They only promised me five hundred credits for this head," she croaked, wiping the acidic drops from her face with her palm. Her lips stretched into a bitter smile. "Five hundred. Enough food for a week and a couple of puffs of pure oxygen in a cheap pressure chamber. My life is worth more, bitch."
A laugh echoed inside her skull—low, velvety, icy. Not in her ears. Right in her bones.
[OH YES, ASTRA NOVA LUNA. YOUR LIFE IS WORTH THE ENTIRE UNIVERSE. AND I KNOW THAT BEST OF ALL.]
Astra froze. Her heart skipped a beat. It was him again. The same voice that appeared after she picked up the black obsidian shard on the outskirts of Empty Beach. Not a hallucination. Something much worse.
"You again," she mentally snapped, not taking her eyes off the creature. "If you've come to help, now's the time, handsome. But if you just want to watch me get eaten, shut up and let me die beautifully. In silence."
The voice laughed louder. There was something predatory and... almost gentle in that laughter.
[DEATH? MY DEAR, I AM DEATH. I AM WHAT'S LEFT AFTER ALL THE GODS HAVE TIRED OF PLAYING HUMANS. BUT YOU... OH, YOU ARE MY BEST VESSEL IN THOUSANDS OF YEARS. I WON'T LET THIS TRASH BROKEN MY BELOVED GRAIL. TOO DEAR.]
Everything around them suddenly stopped. Raindrops hung in the air like silver pearls. The distant sirens and the hum of the metropolis vanished, as if someone had pulled a cord from the universe. The Garbage Ripper froze mid-leap, a huge bulk suspended in the air, its steel teeth already reaching for its throat.
Astra felt an alien power flare within her skull. Cold. Ancient. Sweet.
[LISTEN HERE, MY REAPER. LET'S MAKE A DEAL—A REAL DEAL, NOT THE CHEAP ONE YOU'RE USED TO MAKING WITH CORPORATIONS. I WILL GIVE YOU POWER THAT PEOPLE CAN ONLY DREAM OF IN THEIR DARKEST DREAMS. YOU WILL BECOME MY MOONSTAR. MY REAPER. YOU WILL FEED ME THE SOULS OF THOSE WHO CONSIDER THEMSELVES UNTOUCHABLE—CORPORATES, GODS, HEROES. AND I WILL MAKE YOU THE ONLY TRUE SUPERNOVA IN THIS EMPTY, ROTTEN SPACE. NO ONE WILL DARE CALL YOUR LIFE "CHEAP" AGAIN.
At the center of her consciousness, an interface unlike any other in the world's cybernetic system opened. Black as obsidian, with pulsating lunar runes.
WARNING: CONNECTION WITH THE THANATOS-NOVA FACILITY HAS BEEN ESTABLISHED.
STATUS: AVATAR OF A SLEEPING GOD (RANK 0).
AVAILABLE CURRENCY: 0 SOULS.
FIRST GIFT OF GOD: "DEATH'S GLANCE" (ACTIVATED).
The world drew another breath. Rain poured down. The creature lunged forward.
But now Astra saw everything differently. Through thick hide, through metal and muscle, she saw a thin, pulsing red thread in the monster's chest—its single point of vulnerability. Its doom.
She didn't raise her shotgun.
Instead, she simply stepped toward death, smiling as if she were meeting an old lover.
In her right hand, a clot of absolute darkness began to form from the void—black as the abyss itself, and just as hungry.
"A deal is a deal, Thanatos," she said aloud, her voice low and hoarse with adrenaline. "But if you abandon me... I'll find a way to shove that obsidian of yours down your throat."
The voice inside laughed—now truly cheerfully, almost tenderly.
[Oh, GIRL... I ALREADY LIKE YOUR STYLE. COME ON, REAPER. LET'S BEGIN THE FEAST.]
Astra waved her hand. Darkness struck.
Thus began a story that would burn thousands of worlds to ashes.
Thus was born the Moon Star of the New Supernova—the first to dare make a deal with Death... and make her smile.