Sector One - The Tyrant Galaxy
Inside a vast hall that resembled a fragment torn from outer space itself, where endless darkness was illuminated by drifting stars and distant galaxies suspended in silent motion, a solitary throne rested high above countless planets and entire galactic systems as though the universe itself had willingly arranged every celestial body beneath its owner. Seated upon that magnificent throne was a man quietly holding a glowing recording disc in one hand, watching it with calm, unwavering attention.
His hair was pure white, contrasting sharply against his healthy wheat-colored complexion, while a peculiar tattoo - a perfect fusion between a star and an × - rested upon his forehead. Every individual piece of clothing adorning his body was so immeasurably valuable that it could purchase entire solar systems without exhausting its worth.
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