Additrons: Defenders of the Heart

Chapter 1: Flagship Rose.

Secrets only remain secret when they’re bound tight and made quiet. But one, a princess vaulted by the dark oath keepers, caged in a gamma-encrypted prison, refused to cede. Then the walls exploded with a thunderous bang as a single truth shot out across interstellar, data-encoded dimensions: “SOLD.” It crushed lives and hearts that heard what it had to say; none more so than that of the prince without a throne. It’s no secret anymore. And now, they’re on a rumperstomper battle royale crusade… best get out of their way… or not.

Princess Starlit had been sold, handed over to the ruthless General-King, for the codes she was rumored to hold—the secrets of the fabled Galactic Rose, believed to be passed down through her bloodline. The General-King’s obsession with the fabled flagship was well-known, a fixation SinX with her corrupt council intended to exploit. They believed the Galactic Rose to be a mere hoax, a myth spun from stardust and old tales. Yet they played along, weaving a grand deception to secure their own ambitions.

Anyone daring to question the authenticity of the Galactic Rose was swiftly silenced. The decree was absolute: uphold the legend or face execution. Fear tightened its grip across the realms, as whispers of dissent were snuffed out like dying embers. On the balcony overlooking her planetary estate, Starlit gazed out at the stars, spread across the sky like a tapestry of light. The moons cast a soft, ethereal glow, but the breeze, carrying the decoded scent of data infused roses, no comfort to her tormented soul. Even the beauty of her surroundings felt like an illusion, as hollow as the promises made to her. As Starlit stood on the balcony, she searched for the monument that had once called out her name in a holographic glow, spelling it letter by letter oh so long ago. She remembered standing in this exact spot, just a child—maybe nine, perhaps ten—peering over her family estate. The stories she had heard in the schoolyards when she was seven, maybe eight, echoed in her mind—the whispers about the Galactic Rose, passed in secret from one child to another when the techperts weren’t listening. Her school days had ended not long after, but those tales remained. The ship was a legend, sometimes a story of heroism, other times a warning, depending on who told the tale. These stories had sparked something within her, a curiosity that drew her deeper into the myths, hungry for the truth hidden within them. And then, that night, it felt as though her fairytale had come to life—though, in hindsight, she would realize how wrong she had been. From afar, Starlit had watched as the obelisk flickered to life, spelling out Starlit, letter by letter. She had never seen anything like it before. The way it illuminated her name was unmistakable, a message meant only for her. Though she couldn’t explain it, deep inside, she knew—the monument had called to her. The pull was irresistible, as if the obelisk itself had reached out, demanding her presence.

Starlit slipped out, unnoticed, her heart pounding as she moved through the palace’s hidden corridors, leading her deeper into its opulent, yet decaying, interior. She was drawn toward the monument that had once shone her name in lights. But she was not alone.

Starlit slipped out, unnoticed.

Her bare feet ghosted over mosaic stone as she tippy-toed, quiet as a palace mouse, heart pounding in her throat.

The air changed the second she crossed into the forbidden zone. It thickened, watching her. The corridor ahead was wrong—dry as tomb breath, lined with stone that had cracked under time’s bootheel. This part of the palace didn’t belong to the present.

Cobwebs clung to her face, damp and silky, snaring in her lashes and sticking to the sweat on her neck. She brushed them away, fingers trembling. Moonlight leaked through the jagged seams in the stone wall, thin and pale, laying prison-bar shadows across the floor.

She crept forward, each step painfully slow.
Crunch.
She froze. Looked down.

Scattered fragments littered the floor—shards of old tile, desiccated twigs… or bones. Hollow. Splintered. Tiny enough to be rodent. Or not. She didn’t check.

Somewhere ahead, half-swallowed by darkness, the monument still stood. Once, it had blazed her name in golden light.
Now, it whispered.

She shouldn’t be here.

The instant she’d breached the outer sanctum, she’d felt it—a tightening of space, a shift in pressure, like walking into the lungs of a beast that had just woken up. The palace’s walls didn’t just hold secrets. They hungered.

SinX would know.
SinX always knew.

The journal thudded against her chest with every heartbeat—ancient, leather-bound, its brittle pages holding the truths her enemies had killed to bury. She tightened her grip on it. No turning back now.

Then: a whisper.
Close.
Sharp.

Too sharp to be imagined.

She spun. Nothing behind her. Just columns. Just velvet shadow.

But the silence was wrong.
Not empty—expectant.

Her hand drifted to the ornate dagger strapped at her thigh, the grip worn smooth by generations of desperate hands. She unsheathed it, every nerve in her body suddenly awake, alight.

Behind her—
A floorboard creaked.

Not loud.
Intimate.
Like teeth grinding inches from her ear.

She ran.

Not far. Just enough for a flicker of motion ahead to freeze her in place.

A shadow peeled off the wall. Then another. Then a third.

Three figures. Cloaked. Silent. Watching. Measuring.

The lead took one step forward.
Starlit raised the dagger. It shook in her grip.
Too small. Too late.

Something brushed her shoulder.

Not air. Not wind.
A presence. Behind her.

Then—
CRACK.
Wet. Sharp. Close.

The lead assassin’s arm snapped backward at the wrong angle, blade clattering to the marble as he fell, mouth agape in a scream that never came.

The others moved instantly.
Garrote flashing—
Poison dart flying—

But they were too slow.
The air tore open.

The hulking one twisted to fight—and vanished. Not fallen.
Erased.
Sucked into the dark, like the shadows had teeth.

The last assassin shrieked—not in pain, but in panic.
She spun. Threw her dart—straight at Starlit’s throat.

Starlit froze.
The dart flew—
And stopped.

Caught.

Mid-air.

By a hand.

No form. Just the hand.
Pale. Too long. Too fast.
Maybe human. Maybe not anymore.
It held the dart delicately—like it might whisper to it.
Then crushed it between two fingers.

The assassin turned to flee.
She made it two steps.

A blur.
A hiss.
A gurgle.

Then silence.

Starlit stood paralyzed, dagger still raised.
Her breath didn’t move.
The shadows around her breathed instead.

There was no body.
No blood.
Only a single fallen blade, the hilt still steaming, as if touched by something not of this world.

She staggered past the place where the assassin had died—if death even described it.
Her protector had never stepped into the light.
Had made no sound.
Only violence.
Efficient. Impossibly fast. Inhuman.

Her legs trembled.

She swallowed hard.

Somewhere behind her, the palace gave a long groan—the sound of old stone shifting. Or maybe remembering.

She wasn’t alone.
And that meant she wasn’t safe.
Not from SinX.
Not from her ghosts.
Not even from her guardian.

That night, history was rewritten with explosives.

The obelisk fell. Its silent call snuffed out.

SinX made sure nothing remained. Not the monument. Not the two elders who kept its final secrets.

Starlit didn’t know why they had to take it all away.

But she knew one thing:
It wasn’t an accident.

The monument, the stories, the Galactic Rose—everything was connected in ways those in power wanted forgotten. She didn’t know her place in it yet, only that the monument had known her name. Not many did—everyone else called her princess, never Starlit. Strange, now that she thought about it. She traced her fingers along the cold surface of the obelisk in her memory, recalling how it responded to her touch with the roll call flickering across it—names not rewritten by those who feared the truth, but by the fallen themselves. Even in memory, the obelisk called to her, urging her to seek out the secrets buried deep within. And now, she realized, it was up to her to keep that truth alive. Staring up Starlit lost herself in the moment.

“Quite the sight, isn’t it?” a gravelly voice broke the silence.

Starlit turned, startled, to see an old couple emerging from the monument’s shadows. Their worn, frayed clothes and untamed hair made them seem out of place, relics themselves in this pristine archive.

“Oh, don’t mind us little girl,” the old woman croaked, her voice like dried leaves crumbling in the wind. “Just came to pay our respects to the old Galactic Rose.”

“Or what’s left of her,” the old man added, his laugh dry and wheezing. “Not much left these days, is there?”

Starlit eyed them warily, stepping back a bit. She had heard stories of people like this—eccentric old folk who lived on the fringes, clinging to the galaxy’s forgotten stories.

“It’s only a legend,” Starlit mumbled.

“Yes, and so are these scars. See, look—this one and that one… that President-King, just wait until I get my hands on his ears. I’ll twist them so hard my teeth might pop out.” He laughed, a rough, wheezing cough. “Isn’t that right, Mother?” His tone softened as his eyes flickered to the old woman. “Ah, my love… our scars may heal one day. Maybe next century.” He sighed, the weight of years pressing down on his shoulders.

The old woman’s eyes gleamed as she chuckled. “Legend? That’s what they want you to believe. But the Rose? She was as real as the ground beneath your feet.”

The old man nodded eagerly. “Oh yes, oh yes. They only let you talk about it when they want. Gotta say it’s real when they tell you, and then you forget about it the rest of the time. That’s how they keep the truth hidden.”

Starlit crossed her arms. “What truth?”

The old woman’s eyes gleamed with excitement, and she suddenly grabbed Starlit’s wrist, her grip surprisingly strong. She peered at Starlit, her winkled frown blended into her face. “That voice… it can’t be…”

Starlit frowned, confused. “Who are you—”

The old woman gasped, her eyes going wide. “Is that you, Commander Star? I know that voice anywhere. It is you, isn’t it?” She tilted her head, her face filled with wonder. “Oh, it has been so long… what, 2 or 3 millennia? You haven’t aged a day!”

Starlit pulled her hand back, her heart skipping a beat. “Commander Star? No, I’m not—”

“Oh, don’t be modest,” the old man interjected, grinning ear to ear. “It’s her! Of course it is! Star herself, come back after all this time.”

“Come back to see what’s become of it all, eh?” the old woman cackled. “The galaxy’s a right mess, but the Rose… oh, she was glorious. She flew through the stars, cutting through the dark like a blade of light.”

Starlit tried to step back, her mind spinning. Were they mad? Commander Star was her great-great-grand godmother, long gone, part of a legend that had been twisted and buried. And yet, something about their words tugged at her curiosity.

“What are you talking about?” she asked, her voice unsteady.

The old woman grinned wider. “The Galactic Rose. She was real, child. And your grand—Commander Star—was at the helm. The hippest ship in the galaxy.” The galaxy was teetering on the brink of annihilation. Umadayos-1’s President-King and his Ka-Chinglianaire allies had declared their dominance, spreading their control across the stars, and waging endless wars in their hunger for power. They thought the galaxy belonged to them. But the Morphstream, a force that could tear through dimensions, wanted vengeance for the destruction the President-King rained down on one of its planets, blasting it to nothing. The only one who could stop them was one of Umadayos-1’s own.

At the helm of the Galactic Rose, Commander Star stood defiant, her eyes locked on the President-King’s fleet. His armada was massive, relentless. They moved to crush and enslave everything in their path. And when resistance arose and his foes didn’t have the upper hand, he toyed with them, then blew them to smithereens. “He’s a nasty piece of work… I don’t think the devil made him,” the old lady muttered. “What’s that, kitty cat?” she asked, talking to her hat. “Never mind, kitty, that President-King he’s lost somewhere in hell,” she said, stroking her hat as if it were alive.

“Yes, she led us,” the old man said, his voice sharper now, as if he were recalling the events firsthand. “She knew what had to be done. The Morphstream wasn’t going to stop—its rage was real, but I don’t think it wanted a war, just those who caused it. And his minions? Oh, they were ready to obliterate another world.”

Commander Star ordered the Galactic Rose into the peripheries; her crew pushed back, knowing what was coming. Then, off she went, straight into the heart of the battle her crew staring as Star and her shuttle Excalibur vanished. There they were weaving through the President-King’s ships with precision. Umadayos-1’s forces unleashed a barrage of missiles, but the Rose shot back, deflecting their impact on Excalibur—that’s what she called him. Never “it” or “that thing,” and we all did the same old Ex, he wasn’t shy of a good fight or two, may he rest well.

“The Morphstream was ready to tear Umadayos-1 apart,” the old woman continued, her voice steady now. “But Commander Star begged them not to. She promised she would settle the debt, and took it on herself.”

“She flew that shuttle right into the command center of the President-King’s battle cruiser,” the old man whispered, his eyes gleaming. “Dodging missiles, weaving through fire. And then…”

He mimicked an explosion with his hands. “Boom. She rammed ole-Excalibur right into their heart. The blast crippled the President-King’s fleet, stopped them cold. “But our Captain… she was gone. Sacrificed herself to save the galaxy. The Morphstream linked to your lineage from that moment on.” The old woman’s eyes sparkled with recognition as she leaned in closer. “It’s so good to see you, Captain.”

Starlit stared at them, her heart racing. “Are you saying that Commander Star was… my great-great-grand godmother? But I thought… I thought the Galactic Rose was just a story.”

The old woman’s smile faded into something sadder, more knowing. “Oh, that’s what they want you to think. The President-King and his Ka-Chinglianaire minions couldn’t let Commander Star become a hero. They twisted the truth, made your family into cowards in their stories.”

“They rewrote everything,” the old man added bitterly. “Made it all into fables, so no one would ever know what really happened. But we remember, child. We remember.”

Starlit’s mind was spinning, the weight of the revelation too much to bear. Everything she had ever been told, the stories of her family’s disgrace, the fables about the Galactic Rose—it had all been a lie.

But before she could fully process it, the hum of the monument grew louder, the air in the archive thickening with tension. The door slammed open, and a towering figure entered, his presence immediately suffocating.

Starlit’s breath caught in her throat as the old couple’s demeanor shifted. The madness in their eyes disappeared, replaced by sharp, calculating wisdom. They stood straighter, suddenly composed, their wildness vanishing in an instant.

The General-King’s cold gaze swept across the room before landing on Starlit. His smile was slow, cruel. “It’s you,” he said, his voice low and filled with dark amusement. “All these years… all this time… I’ve been searching for you.”

Starlit’s heart pounded, her mind racing. She didn’t understand—why was he looking at her like that? The old couple said nothing, but the knowing look in their eyes spoke volumes. They knew something she didn’t.

The General-King laughed darkly, his voice echoing through the hall. “Go back to your palace, little girl. Go on, run along. Or else.”

Before he vanished, the old man muttered, “President-King, you little nasty boy… what are you doing here?” The old woman stood up slowly, raised her cane but ran out of breath, then sat down. “Go back to hell,” she muttered.

Laughing loudly, the facsimile vanished, leaving behind a silence more oppressive than the hum of the monument.

The old woman turned to Starlit, her voice now clear, wise. “Your family’s connection to the Morphstream is real. And it’s up to you now, child. You must prove yourself worthy. Isn’t that right, Kitty?” she said. “Starlit, is it strange that a cat thinks it is a hat, or that a hat thinks it’s a cat? You may be pushed to think you are no longer the Matriarch, leading her millennia of ways passed down through time. But the Mother Elephant, no matter how much they torture her… she will always find her charges and lead them to safety.

Hold strong, Helmsman. The Galactic Rose awaits. She will guide you… let her. Isn’t that right, Kitty?”

Starlit’s mind swirled with disbelief and confusion as she stared at them, the weight of her family’s legacy pressing down on her like never before. Everything she thought she knew was unraveling before her eyes. With this Starlit stood on the balcony, staring into the endless night sky, trying to find solace in the stars, but they offered none. Instead, they only reminded her of the chains she had been placed in—chains that stretched back to the day her world had shattered. It had been a decade or so, since that night—since the old couple who had revealed the truth about her family’s legacy were brutally silenced. SinX had taken everything from her, stripping away her freedom, her history, her hope. The couple’s blood had stained her childhood, marking the beginning of her imprisonment. They had shown her the truth, and for that, they had paid with their lives. Now, it seemed, her captors sought to bury her spirit the same way they buried her family’s honor. Nine long years of confinement, with only Prince Asterix’s brief visits to hold onto, a fragile tether to her sanity. SinX had planned it all, crafting a slow, methodical scheme to erode her strength, to make her feel powerless. Starlit could see it now—how they intended to break her, to make her believe that her family’s legacy was nothing but a lie. They wanted her to doubt, to crumble under the weight of guilt, believing she was responsible for the deaths of the couple and the downfall of her lineage.

And now, SinX was ready to deliver the final blow—the marriage to the General-King. He believed in the myth of the Galactic Rose, but Starlit knew it was nothing more than a fable, a story used to manipulate and control. She was to be a pawn, traded like a commodity, sacrificed on the altar of SinX’s ambition and the General-King’s delusions. The very thought twisted in her stomach, but she could see how they were setting her up to take the fall. They wanted her broken, but not destroyed—just enough to make her compliant, to make her think she wasn’t worthy of the power tied to her family’s legacy. You are nothing but a pawn in a game you cannot begin to comprehend. SinX’s words echoed in her mind, along with the chilling laughter that had filled the chamber on that night years ago. They wanted her to believe she had no value beyond the lie they had constructed, that the marriage would be her only path to redemption. They had taken everything from her—her family, her freedom, her future—and now they sought to erase her very will. The masquerade continued behind her, the sounds of the celebration a twisted reminder of the deception she was trapped in. SinX had orchestrated every move, carefully pulling the strings to ensure Starlit would be isolated, broken, with no one left to turn to. Her heart pounded with anger, but also fear. They’ve planned this for years.

Starlit gripped the cold metal of the railing tighter, her body trembling with the weight of everything. She had long suspected SinX’s plan was to use her as leverage, but now the full depth of their schemes was clear. The General-King’s fixation on the Galactic Rose wasn’t only about gaining power; it was about breaking her spirit and convincing her she was unworthy of her lineage. If they could make her believe that, then they could control everything. Her thoughts turned to Asterix, the only person who had cared enough to visit her during those years of isolation. He didn’t know the full truth, but he had been her lifeline. Even if he wasn’t strong enough to fight SinX or the General-King on his own, maybe he could help her find a way out. But she couldn’t let him get too close, not yet. Not when her future was so precariously balanced.

“SinX stood tall, a sneer on her face as she gazed down at Starlit, her words sharp and mocking. “Stop looking for that loud-mouthed monument, can’t you see its glow at the bottom of the Mull of Dreams?” she laughed in the princess’s face. “That busybody lake—I’ll drain it one day,” she taunted out loud. The thought lingered, hanging heavy in the air, but there was no time to dwell on it.

“You depart for Umadayos-1 at dawn,” SinX continued, her voice chilling with dark satisfaction. “Embrace your destiny. And don’t try anything dumb… otherwise, the General-King will execute—oh, I mean implement—a plan so you can see his devotion towards your imminent arrival. There will be mothers, fathers, children, all lying around… got it, princess?”

Starlit’s heart raced, SinX’s threats tightening around her like a noose. But just as the weight of her words began to suffocate the room, the sound of rumbling thunder and blinding flashes of lightning filled the sky, louder and brighter than ever before, shaking the very fabric of the cosmos.

SinX’s taunts faltered, her cruel smile wavering as she turned her gaze toward the source of the disturbance. The roar in the distance was unmistakable.

It was the Hoodie-Tees.

Their old-school Harley twin-cam V12000 H2 Combustion Hoverbikes were legendary. The rumble of their engines was their calling card, unmistakable and feared by those who knew what was coming. Something big was about to go down. When, where, and what—no one knew. But if you had something to hide, you’d better hide yourself before it was too late.

And for SinX, she was about to find out the hard way.

It wasn’t a destiny Starlit had chosen, but one forced upon her. SinX and the General-King would stop at nothing to see her broken, but deep inside, Starlit knew she had to fight back. She couldn’t let them win. As the cool night air brushed against her skin, Starlit steeled herself. Her path was uncertain, but her will was not. She would fight, even if it meant risking everything—because she would fight for those who had been erased and rewritten, their moments stolen. Tomorrow, she would be sent to Umadayos-1, handed over to the General-King, the final step in their long-standing effort to shatter her will. But they had underestimated her resolve—she was not ready to give in. SinX may have orchestrated her fall, but Starlit still had something they didn’t count on—her resolve. With a final look at the night sky, Starlit stepped back from the railing. Tonight would be for preparation. Tomorrow, she would confront them. And when the time came, she would seize control of her destiny—no longer a pawn, but a force they wouldn’t be able to bend. revelation, Starlit knew she had to fight back or lose everything. And so her struggles began. Tossed into planetary depths, the cauldron lid now locked and shuttered. Digging her way out… yes, a contingency. Nurturing the seeds of rebellion—codes made pure, firewalls triple-layered—rising tall like a mighty data oak, strong and unyielding against the tempest of lies. If her soul she lays bare and her heart she makes agile to weather storms multilayered in complexities… Ah, whole once more, she will be ready to lead. Every trip, every fall—hers alone to overcome. And “not” is not an option… Ah, whole once more, she will be ready to lead.

The journey was not for the faint of heart. From the quiet corridors of the palace to the darkened voids of space, her resilience was tested. Yet with every obstacle, she fortified herself, readying her mind and spirit for the battles ahead. The echoes of rebellion simmered within her, each coded layer of protection she built in silence preparing her for the inevitable confrontation.

The opulence of the hall was dazzling. Ornate chandeliers crafted from luminescent diamonds hovered gracefully, shimmering in competition with the stars above. The living ceiling, a three-dimensional marvel of AI tech, projected a fantastical showdown—Picasso and Banksy engaged in a surreal paint-off, each stroke a burst of color and chaos. Meanwhile, Rembrandt and Caterina van Hemessen moved zestfully within their brushes, breathing life into the classical backdrops they had crafted. Priceless Renaissance figures danced and whispered, their expressions fluid and ever-changing as they observed the elegantly dressed guests below. The ceiling’s every detail was a masterpiece—clouds rippled like waves, and leaves fluttered with the breeze of an imagined wind, so real it felt as though the sky itself had opened above them. Amidst this grandeur, Cupid appeared, his arrow sheathed, a sigh escaping his lips. For love, in this moment, had been stolen and sold. But with a sly smile, he raised his bow once more and shot a spell-breaker into the sky. By the way he squinted his eye, he wasn’t quite sure where it would go. Luckily, the arrow did—whether in the past or the future, doubt would be banished. The guests below looked up in awe as the grand display continued its fluid dance between past and future, art and technology, heartache and hope. The Frescoes partied through the night, leaving an indelible impression on the guests as they woke up looking like a Picasso. The night’s laughter and animated conversations had created a façade of normalcy. Yet beneath the surface, tension crackled like static electricity. Starlit felt the weight of countless eyes upon her, the expectation to comply with a union that would solidify SinX’s power and perpetuate the grand deception of the Galactic Rose. Her mind raced as she surveyed the room, thoughts a whirlwind of fear and defiance. She was acutely aware that her value lay not in mythical secrets but in her symbolic importance. Starlit stared out into the vastness of space, the weight of SinX’s words sinking deep into her chest. The stars, once symbols of freedom and possibility, now felt like distant, unreachable dreams. Her fate had been decided—sold like a piece of property to the General-King, a ruler whose thirst for power was as relentless as his obsession with the Galactic Rose. She gripped the cold metal railing of the balcony, her knuckles turning white as memories of her past rushed back to her—the whispers of the old couple, the lies that had been woven around her family’s legacy, and the looming shadow of her forced engagement. It had been nine years since she had first uncovered the truth, but it felt as though her world was still closing in around her, more suffocating with every step.

SinX’s voice echoed in her mind: “You depart for Umadayos-1 at dawn. Embrace your destiny.” Starlit’s heart pounded with the finality of those words. The wedding would take place on Umadayos-1, a planet now under the General-King’s rule. Once she was bound to him, there would be no escaping the life they had planned for her—a life built on deception and manipulation.

The distant sounds of the masquerade behind her, the laughter and music, only amplified the emptiness within her. They were celebrating her downfall, a grand spectacle to mask the truth. She was being prepared like a lamb for slaughter, a pawn in a game she could no longer avoid. But even as the weight of despair pressed down on her, a flicker of defiance remained. They want to silence me. They want to bury the truth. Starlit knew the risks, but she would not go quietly. She would not let SinX or the General-King have the last word. Somewhere, buried beneath the lies, was the truth about her family, the Galactic Rose, and her true destiny.

Her mind flashed to Prince Asterix. He had been her only ally through the years, the one constant thread of hope in her isolated world. He had never fully understood what was at stake, but he had been there for her. Maybe he still would be. Starlit exhaled a slow, steady breath, the cold air filling her lungs. Tomorrow, she would be forced to travel to Umadayos-1, to a future she didn’t want, a marriage that would bind her to a tyrant. But tonight, standing on the balcony under the twin moons, she made a silent vow: I will find a way to reclaim my family’s legacy. I will not be used as a pawn in their game. With one last glance at the stars, Starlit turned and walked back into the palace, ready to face what lay ahead. If this was to be her destiny, she would fight it—every step of the way.

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