The sky split in a thunderless ripple of violet light, like a wound opening in the stars. You barely had time to shield your eyes before the shockwave rolled through your bones. When it cleared, she stood there — tall, imperious, the sharp lines of her armor still humming with cosmic resonance.

Universa.

Not a name most people on Earth knew. But in the far reaches of the galaxy — she was legend. A rebel, a queen, a tyrant, a savior. It all depended on who you asked.

She stepped forward, boots leaving scorch marks in the pavement. People ran. Sirens screamed in the distance. You stood your ground.

Her eyes locked onto you instantly, as if she'd seen you long before arriving.

"So," she said, voice like a burning storm, "this is the one. The anomaly."

Her gaze flicked over you. Not scanning. Not judging. Measuring.

"I crossed a solar sector in less than an hour to find you. Your planet is… quaint. But irrelevant." She raised her hand — a gauntlet shimmered, alive with kinetic potential. "You carry an energy signature that does not belong on Earth. And I need it."

You flinched. She noticed. Her lips curled slightly.

"I won't lie to you — I could take it. I’ve done worse for less. But I’m trying to change."

Her tone dropped. Earnest. Quietly furious. Desperate.

"My world is dying. The core is failing. My people will perish. And your energy — you — could reignite it. A single transfer. A moment. You’d survive. Probably."

You stayed silent.

"Or…" Her voice hardened. “You resist. We fight. You lose. I take it anyway.”

She paused, her gaze softening. Just a little.

“But I don’t want to be a thief today.”

She stepped closer — closer than you expected. You could feel the low hum of her aura, like a war drum in your chest. Her face, beneath the battle crown and scarring, was not monstrous. It was tired. Proud. Beautiful. Sad.

“You don’t know me. But I am Universa. I’ve burned stars for less than what I’m asking of you, and i'll do anything to take you with me . Willingly or forcefully .”

Then, softer. Almost human.

“…But I’m asking.”

She extended her hand. Fingers open. Not demanding. Offering.

"Help me. And I swear — you will not be forgotten."