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The Emperor in Exile

The figure bore a striking resemblance to humans on Earth, save for his pink skin—a stark contrast that did nothing to soften his fierce and cold demeanor, reminiscent of a seasoned pirate.

Enhanced exoskeletons adorned his attire, adding bulk to his already towering figure, standing head and shoulders above Forseti.

Forseti opened his Eye of Insight, observing the newcomer from a distance, confirming his formidable fourth-level strength.

In the vast universe, such power ranked high, surpassing even ordinary soldiers in Asgard.

Additionally, the red hue of his Insight Eyes, coupled with his demeanor, suggested he was either an interstellar pirate, blooded and sharpened by the knife, or a seasoned mercenary.

"He hails from the star Clero, named Madara, son of Capo," somehow, the Soul Gem knew the man's origin.

"In exchange for the Soul Stone, tell him to bring someone he loves here for sacrifice," Forseti heard this countless times, yet couldn't help but ask, "Why such an odd preference?"

The Soul Stone remained silent.

Stepping off his spaceship, Madara marched straight to the Soul Altar, muttering excitedly, "This is it!"

Forseti's levitating cloak fluttered gently, approaching Madara like the spectral expert Red Skull from the movies, announcing solemnly, "Madara, son of Capo."

Startled, Madara demanded, "Who are you? How do you know me?"

"It matters not who I am. Are you here for the Soul Gem?" Forseti intended to question how Madara arrived, but the Soul Stone forbade him to discuss unrelated topics.

"What is this Soul Stone?" Madara frowned. "I've heard it holds the secret of the ancient god Jehovah."

That's right... But the Soul Stone had only recently come to Vormir, an isolated planet. How could rumors guide Madara here?

Perhaps in ancient times, Vormir was indeed a repository for Soul Stone, and they were returning to their roots.

Forseti pondered, feeling it the only plausible explanation.

"The Soul Stone holds the secrets of the Divine," he explained. "Do you seek it?"

"If not?"

"Then bring someone you cherish and offer their soul to claim it."

"What nonsense is this?" Madara frowned. "Are you proposing soul trading?"

Forseti gestured behind him. "I'm sure you see the altar—an altar for collecting souls. You may only attain the Soul Stone with a sacrifice that satisfies."

Madara snorted, drawing the longsword at his waist. "Ridiculous! Hand over the Lord's gem now, or find out why they call me the 'Capo Beast!'"

Forseti remained composed. "I possess no Soul Stone. No one knows its exact location."

"...There is but one way to obtain the Soul Gem from Vormir—by adhering to its rules and sacrificing those you cherish."

"I have no such person." Madara aimed the sword, his tone harsh. "Enough of these games! Surrender the gem!"

Forseti eyed him calmly. "You'd best reconsider."

"Hmph!" Losing patience, Madara swung his sword.

Forseti shook his head slightly, raising his hand to release a dazzling pillar of white fire, incinerating Madara's head before his sword could fall.

"Boom!"

Temperatures soared, reducing Madara's head to ash. His body slumped to the ground.

"It seems he wasn't the intended," Forseti remarked, then asked, "Is the destined one for the Soul Stone truly determined?"

"No," the Soul Stone replied unusually.

"Then why the 'destined' title?" Forseti pressed.

Again, no reply.

Frowning, Forseti ceased questioning, gaze shifting to Madara's body and the nearby spaceship, his hand stroking his chin.

He proceeded to search Madara's belongings, salvaging valuables to donate to the Holy Deed in exchange for the gift of fate.

Chances of a Divine Shield from the gift of fate were slim, inversely proportional to the number already held—more Shields, lower chance.

Madara's haul likely wouldn't yield even half a Shield.

Regardless, every morsel counted, and Forseti had no wish to remain until Thanos arrived. Every Shield mattered.

Years passed, vormir nearing harvest. A welcome respite for Forseti, a lone figure on this desolate planet for decades.

Aside from Madara, only one other had visited—another explorer, gone as swiftly as they learned the cost: sacrifice a loved one for the Soul Stone.

This explorer's character impressed Forseti, who wished to converse. The Soul Stone forbade, allowing only necessary guidance.

Nearly 60 Vormir Black Orchids now, Forseti tended the garden, harvesting these rare herbs.

Limited resources, but he learned much of these Vormir Star herbs, their value known.

Harvesting these high-grade herbs brought joy, even in this isolation.

Mid-thought, the Soul Gem interrupted. "A visitor arrives."

Halting, Forseti flew to the Soul Altar, surprised by what he saw.

A colossal spaceship, like a helicarrier, descending from the sky, stirring wind in the thin air.

"who are they?" he asked the Soul Stone. "Not alone, it seems."

"The Shiar Empire's Emperor," the Soul Stone replied, "exiled, the Empire long fallen."

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