The Multiverse Hunter

Ali exhaled deeply and collapsed onto the couch, stretching his arms and legs as though trying to shake off the weight of the day. Across from him, Drogath sat silently, his sharp gaze fixed on the Sith Warrior.

"You're a Sith Warrior now," Drogath finally said, his deep voice carrying a mixture of awe and respect.

"Yes, I am," Ali replied with a slight smile. "Believe it or not, that was one of my goals." His tone was casual, but his eyes flickered briefly toward the interface projecting in front of him. A notification flashed, confirming that he had completed his second personal mission.

'Now, all that's left is the war. According to the data, the attack will happen in a week. Until then, I'll assist the commander with preparations and focus on training my Force lightning. That technique is consuming far too much Spirit… 'Ali's thoughts trailed off as he sat upright, his mind already strategising.

"Pilot," Ali called out, his voice firm. A moment later, the pilot peeked out from the cockpit, his expression alert and attentive.

"Yes, my lord?"

Ali's gaze shifted to Drogath, who was watching him curiously. 'I need to address his situation too. Drogath is loyal, a weapon I've invested in for this fight. I can't afford for him to lose control again…' Ali thought, his mind working as Drogath stared back at him with a mixture of curiosity and unease.

"How far are we from Vorrangar?" Ali asked, his tone casual, though the question carried immense weight.

Drogath's eyes widened in shock upon hearing the name of his home-planet. "Ali… what do you mean?" Drogath's voice wavered as he stood, towering over the Sith Warrior, his expression betraying his disbelief.

"Approximately eight hours, my lord," the pilot responded efficiently, oblivious to the growing tension behind him.

Ali turned his attention back to Drogath, who was still trying to process the question. "Then set course for Vorrangar," Ali commanded, his voice calm but unwavering.

"Yes, Lord," the pilot said before retreating into the cockpit, the faint hum of engines shifting as he prepared the spaceship for hyperspace travel.

Drogath's voice was shaky as he stammered, "Ali, how…? We're Sith… slaves… we can't just leave—"

"Hey," Ali interrupted, his voice softer now but still resolute. "You're going back home, Drogath. I spoke to Sivara, and I'm a Sith Warrior now. That means I can do what I want. And what I want is to take you back to Vorrangar."

Ali's words seemed to hit Drogath like a bolt of lightning. The giant's tough exterior cracked, and his eyes filled with an emotion rarely seen in a Sith—hope.

"Ali… I can't believe it. When I left Vorrangar, I thought I would never return. I thought I would die alone, on some strange planet, in the cold, unfeeling expanse of the galaxy." His voice trembled with gratitude as he dropped to one knee in front of Ali.

Ali stood silently, watching as Drogath cut his palm with his sharp horn. Blood trickled down his hand as he extended it upward, a gesture steeped in ritual. The pilot, observing from the cockpit, remained quiet, understanding the solemnity of the moment.

"You promised me that I would see my family again, and now you've fulfilled that promise. I, Drogath, son of Drogan, vow to fight by your side against all who would oppose you or seek to do you harm—until my last breath."

"I accept your oath, Drogath, son of Drogan."

Drogath stood, his enormous frame towering over Ali once more, but this time his face radiated a newfound vitality. Ali smirked, satisfied to see his ally's renewed spirit.

BANG BANG.

Both men turned sharply toward the ship's inner quarters at the sound of loud banging. Drogath instinctively reached for his axe, which rested by the side of the table, but Ali raised a hand to signal that it wasn't necessary.

"I forgot about that…" Ali muttered. "Go get some rest. I'll handle it."

Drogath hesitated but eventually nodded, placing his axe back down. He lumbered toward his quarters, leaving Ali to address the disturbance alone.

The Sith Warrior made his way to the largest and most luxurious room on the ship. It was directly across from Drogath's quarters, its double doors imposing and intricately adorned.

Ali pressed the button beside the doors, which slid open with a soft hiss. Stepping inside, he closed them behind him, his masked face scanning the opulent interior.

The centrepiece of the room was a king-sized bed, its black and gold prints exuding wealth and power.

Sitting on the bed was a woman, her back turned to him. She was bald, her figure barely concealed by a green skirt that clung to her curves. Green magic crackled faintly around her hands as she worked to free herself from the chain binding her wrist to the bed frame.

The sound of the door closing made her freeze. Slowly, she turned her head to look at Ali. Her wild, venomous expression was framed by smudged makeup that gave her eyes an almost feral green glow. She radiated defiance, and Ali couldn't help but admire her fiery spirit.

As he took a step closer, the witch raised her hand, her green magic flaring dangerously.

SHOCK.

A jolt of blue electricity coursed through her body from the chain, making her cry out as the magic dissipated from her hand. She shuddered, her hatred-filled eyes locking onto Ali as he took another deliberate step forward.

"Let me go…" she hissed, her voice low and trembling with fury.

The ship shuddered slightly as it entered hyperspace. Her eyes widened in realisation—she was aboard a spaceship. Her predicament had just gone from bad to worse.

"You can't teleport away," Ali said, his voice calm but cold. "And from what I know, your kind… out in the vacuum of space… your ancestors are weaker. Your magic falters."

Her lips curled into a snarl. "How about you take this chain off and find out just how weak my magic really is, SITH," she growled.

Ali's response was measured, as though he were explaining something obvious to a child. "You don't understand your situation, do you?" He stepped closer, his presence looming over her. "I am your master, and you… are my slave now."

"I'm nobody's slave, you crazy bastard!" she barked, her voice dripping with venom.

Ali chuckled, the sound muffled by his mask. Without a word, he reached up and removed it, revealing his sharp, handsome features. Turning away from her, he casually unfastened his cape, letting it drop to the floor.

The witch watched him warily, her defiance momentarily replaced by confusion as he began unbuttoning his uniform. His Sith jacket came off, revealing a tight black long-sleeved shirt that clung to his muscular frame like a second skin.

"What are you doing?" she asked, her voice tinged with unease.

"This is my room, and I'm tired. What do you think I'm doing?" Ali replied without looking at her. He removed his shirt, exposing his flawless skin and chiseled physique.

'Not even a scar…' she thought, her green eyes narrowing. 'What is he?'

Ali disappeared into the bathroom, and the sound of running water soon filled the room. The witch resumed her attempts to unlock the chain, though her efforts were futile.

The one time she came close to breaking it, a shock nearly killed her. She dared not try again and instead focused on picking the lock.

Her concentration broke as Ali re-emerged, a towel wrapped loosely around his waist. Water dripped from his body, each droplet gliding over his skin. He walked to the mirror and sat opposite it, seemingly inspecting himself.

The witch watched in silence, her confusion growing as she saw him pry his eyelids open. Behind his right eye, a deep, unnatural red gleamed ominously. Ali sighed, his frustration apparent.

"This is why I hate using it…" he muttered under his breath. His gaze swept the room, eventually landing on her skirt.

Ali approached her suddenly, making her flinch. Her green magic flared instinctively, but he raised a hand to stop her. "You're going to hurt yourself, so don't," he warned, his tone firm.

Reaching for the hem of her skirt, he ripped a small piece of the silk fabric. She stared at him in shock as he wrapped the material around his head, covering both eyes. 'This helps with the pain…' he thought.

To her surprise, he climbed into bed beside her, turning his back to her and pulling the black and gold covers over himself. "Try anything, and I'll kill you," he said, his voice matter-of-fact.

The witch lay motionless, her mind racing. 'The last thing I remember is him hitting me… and then waking up here…'

Confusion and fear mingled in her thoughts as she stared at the Sith Warrior who now lay so calmly beside her.

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