Chapter 133: The Seven Forbidden Worlds

Morning settled over the Frontier Command Center, illuminating the vast holographic displays suspended above the central strategy table.

Rhaevia stood at the head of the room, her arms folded tightly across her chest as Project Genesis reconstructed the ancient cosmic map.

Around her, researchers and military officers worked through layers of complex astronomical data, comparing the Origin Core’s records against every available Imperial database.

The results were becoming increasingly disturbing with every passing minute.

“Run the comparison again,” Rhaevia ordered, her voice cutting through the sound of processing equipment. “Cross-reference the coordinates with every known astronomical survey, including the restricted Imperial archives.”

A researcher adjusted the interface rapidly. “Already done, Commander. The coordinates don’t match any officially recognized planetary systems.”

“Not even the abandoned exploration zones?” Rhaevia asked, turning her head slightly.

“None,” the researcher confirmed.

Rhaevia turned her full attention back toward the central projection.

Seven distinct worlds appeared in slow succession, each surrounded by a faint, golden outline. Their planetary surfaces were partially obscured by encrypted layers of code, but the Origin Core had preserved enough raw information to establish their definite existence.

Seven planets. Seven locations absent from modern astronomical records.

“These worlds weren’t simply forgotten,” Raevor observed, stepping up beside her. “Someone deliberately removed them from the records.”

“Exactly,” Rhaevia agreed.

She reached out and expanded the first planetary projection. The hologram displayed a deep blue world covered almost entirely in vast oceans, its surface illuminated by strange, shifting bands of energy.

Unlike ordinary planetary scans, the image contained distinct traces of massive energy concentrations throbbing beneath the water.

The second world appeared next, entirely covered in jagged ice and surrounded by a thin atmospheric halo. The third showed a dense green surface, with what appeared to be a single, continuous forest extending across entire continents.

The remaining four projections revealed a planet divided by immense geological scars, a metallic world surrounded by artificial orbital structures, a barren sphere with almost no detectable atmosphere, and a final world whose surface could not be rendered at all.

Each planetary image carried a different system warning across the primary feed.

[WORLD ONE: OCEANIC BIOSPHERE – PARTIAL DATA AVAILABLE.]

[WORLD TWO: STRUCTURAL SIGNATURE – DETECTED.]

[WORLD THREE: PLANETARY-SCALE BIOLOGICAL NETWORK – SUSPECTED.]

[WORLD FOUR: HISTORICAL CONFLICT RECORDS – SEALED.]

[WORLD FIVE: ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE SIGNATURE – UNRESOLVED.]

[WORLD SIX: LIFE-SIGNS ANALYSIS – INCOMPLETE.]

[WORLD SEVEN: SPATIAL ANOMALY – CLASSIFICATION UNAVAILABLE.]

A silence fell across the command room.

Raevor studied the floating projections with the focused, calculating expression he usually reserved for battlefield assessments. “If these worlds contain surviving Sovereign-era technology, their strategic value could be considerable.”

“And their historical value may be even greater,” Rhaevia replied softly.

She enlarged the encrypted data streams surrounding the planets. Each world possessed an authorization marker, but the signatures differed significantly from those used by ordinary military installations.

These specific records had been created under the direct authority of the sovereign civilization itself.

Project Genesis suddenly generated a new notification window.

[ARCHIVE CROSS-REFERENCE COMPLETE.]

[SEVEN FORBIDDEN WORLDS IDENTIFIED.]

[CLASSIFICATION: SOVEREIGN-ERA RESTRICTED TERRITORIES.]

[ACCESS STATUS: SEALED BY AUTHORITY.]

Rhaevia’s eyes narrowed as she read the classification. “Forbidden worlds,” she murmured.

The designation felt strangely familiar, though no complete memory accompanied the feeling. A sudden fragment of golden architecture flashed briefly through her mind, followed by the indistinct silhouette of someone standing beside her before a vast star map.

Then the vision disappeared as quickly as it had come.

She instinctively steadied herself against the edge of the table.

Raevor noticed the subtle movement immediately. “Another memory?” he asked softly.

“Only a fragment,” she said, exhaling slowly. “But I think these worlds were important enough that someone wanted their existence erased from history entirely.”

“Could the Third Sovereign have been responsible?” Raevor asked.

“Possibly,” Rhaevia answered. “Her signature appears in one of the sealed regions, but we don’t yet know whether she concealed these worlds or merely occupied territory connected to them.”

She looked up at the seven floating projections once more. “If we want to understand what truly happened to our civilization, we need to investigate them.”

Raevor gave a decisive nod. “Then we’ll prepare an expedition immediately.”

“Start with the oceanic world,” Rhaevia instructed. “Its energy readings suggest that something beneath the surface may still be active. I want scientific reconnaissance completed before we deploy full military forces.”

He immediately transmitted the order to the operations division. Within moments, navigation officers began calculating a preliminary route through the spatial pathways recovered from the Origin Core.

Then the command center lights suddenly flickered.

A high-pitched tone interrupted the sound of the monitoring equipment.

One of the researchers turned abruptly toward the communications station. “Commander, we’re detecting an incoming signal.”

“From where?” Rhaevia demanded.

“The first forbidden world,” the technician reported, eyes wide.

Rhaevia straightened her stance. “Trace the source.”

“We’re trying, ma’am,” the technician responded hurriedly. “The transmission isn’t using any recognized frequency. It’s passing through the network directly.”

The central projection distorted with interference. The blue oceanic planet expanded until it dominated the room, its luminous surface rotating slowly beneath layers of decrypted data.

[INCOMING DISTRESS SIGNAL DETECTED.]

[ORIGIN: WORLD ONE – OCEANIC BIOSPHERE.]

[AUTHENTICATION PROTOCOL: SOVEREIGN AUTHORITY.]

Rhaevia felt her golden resonance stir restlessly beneath her skin.

The signal bypassed every modern communications safeguard in the command center and reached directly into Project Genesis. A final transmission appeared across the main display, written in the language that only her sovereign authority could fully decipher.

She read the translated words aloud into the silent room. “Sovereign Guide Rhaevia.”

No one in the command center moved.

The incoming signal pulsed once more, and a line of text emerged beneath the first.

[DISTRESS REQUEST: RECEIVER IDENTITY CONFIRMED.]

Rhaevia stared at the rotating image of the oceanic world.

Someone on that distant planet knew her name. And somehow, despite the countless lifetimes separating them, they had been waiting for her to answer.

The holographic projection of the water world continued to turn, casting a pale turquoise light across the faces of the officers in the room. Raevor stepped up beside her, his Sentinel energy flaring in subtle defense as the ancient link deepened.

“The transmission is active,” the lead communications officer reported, his fingers flying across the console. “It is maintaining a stable quantum-entangled bridge with Project Genesis.”

“Can you establish a visual feed?” Raevor asked, keeping his focus on the screen.

“Negative, General,” the technician replied, shaking his head. “The data stream is carrying immense compression. It contains biological metrics, coordinates for a submerged research installation, and an active distress loop.”

Rhaevia extended her hand toward the central console. The golden resonance weaving through her fingers touched the control interface, establishing a direct link between her Sovereign authority and the incoming transmission stream.

The distorted interference in the air resolved into a faint, rhythmic audio pulse, sounding like a slow, metallic heartbeat echoing from the depths of an underwater trench.

“Identify yourself,” Rhaevia commanded, her voice amplified by her mental energy.

The audio frequency shifted, smoothing out as her Sovereign signature stabilized the connection. A strained, filtered voice resonated through the speakers, speaking in the archaic dialect of the Sovereign Era.

“Core… stability… failing,” the voice rasped through the interference. “The abyssal containment field has breached. Sovereign Guide Rhaevia… the Leviathan project has awakened.”

Raevor’s eyes narrowed instantly as he processed the message. “A Leviathan class biological construct?”

“Project Genesis,” Rhaevia spoke clearly into the system, “verify the origin of that voice in the archives.”

The automated system responded within seconds, bringing up a faded personnel file that had been locked behind imperial-level encryption for thousands of years.

[BIOMETRIC MATCH CONFIRMED.]

[SUBJECT: CHIEF RESEARCHER – SEA REGION.]

[STATUS: STASIS PRESERVATION – CRITICAL FAILURE DETECTED.]

Rhaevia felt a strange tightness in her chest as the historical file unfolded before her. The person calling to her was not an enemy or an intruder but a surviving scientist from her own forgotten past who had been locked inside a deep-sea stasis pod since the fall of their civilization.

“The researcher is still alive down there,” Rhaevia said, turning to look at Raevor. “They have been in cryogenic suspension beneath the oceanic biosphere, and the system is finally breaking down.”

“If the containment field fails, whatever biological threats are down there will consume the installation,” Raevor stated, already pulling up the flagship’s deployment protocols. “We need to launch a rescue operation immediately.”

“We go in person,” Rhaevia decided, setting her command link to prepare her personal vessel. “Standard Imperial sensors won’t be able to penetrate those deep-ocean resonance barriers, but my Guide authority can bypass the security grid.”

Raevor nodded without hesitation, adjusting his sidearm. “My Sentinel units will secure the landing site and establish a perimeter against the native marine life.”

She looked back at the main projection of World One, where the golden distress signal continued to pulse steadily against the dark blue oceanic background.

“Keep the flagship in high orbit,” Rhaevia ordered the remaining officers in the command center. “Maintain a constant lock on our resonance signatures, and prepare for immediate extraction if the planetary core goes critical.”

“Understood, Commander!” the crew responded in unison.

As Rhaevia and Raevor turned toward the exit bay, the central display flashed one final automated status update regarding the expedition’s destination.

[NAVIGATION ROUTE: LOCKED.]

[TARGET: FORBIDDEN WORLD ONE – THE OCEANIC BIOSPHERE.]

[EXPEDITION STATUS: DEPLOYING.]

Rhaevia glanced at Raevor as the heavy doors of the command center slid open, revealing the waiting launch pad outside. “Whatever is waiting for us down in those depths, it seems our past has finally caught up with us.”

“Let it come,” Raevor replied, his hand briefly brushing hers as they stepped onto the transport deck together. “Whatever we built in that era, we will face it together in this one.”

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