The records went on to describe a war, one in which extragalactic powers clashed with the civilization that had once thrived there. No clear reason was given for why the war began—though the text hinted at something beyond the matter of the Ancient Holy Region itself. But it was only a hint.

When the battle broke out between the invaders and the unknown inhabitants of the Holy Region, many assumed it would be swift. Perhaps even the three extragalactic powers believed so. Yet they were met with a furious assault from the natives, suffering devastating losses in the very first strike. Their strength shocked all who witnessed it.

Still, in the end, numbers won out.

The inhabitants of the Ancient Holy Region were ultimately defeated by the sheer advantage of the three powers. But in the final clash—when the rulers of the three faced the last defenders of the Holy Region—a grave mistake occurred. A demonic artifact, carried by one of the three, was struck and fell. It activated the moment it left its wielder's grasp. And as a result, the entire Holy Realm was sealed away by that cursed power.

And from that moment, the once-ancient Holy Region fell and was transformed into a Forbidden Zone. What made matters worse—and why so little is known about the Northern Galactic Rim Forbidden Zone—was the silence enforced by the three extragalactic powers themselves. They could not allow the truth to be revealed: that they had wielded, and even relied upon, a demonic artifact, something strictly forbidden by many of the great universal powers.

To protect themselves, they forced entire civilizations—and even the great powers of the galaxies—to forget. Only a few elites ever learned fragments of the truth.

Only a few elites ever uncovered fragments of the truth—fragments woven with falsehoods, laced with just a sliver of reality. The histories of those who once dwelled in the Ancient Holy Region were erased from every record, their very existence deliberately buried.

With the passage of time, the silence only deepened, until no memory remained of what once was—until even the Holy Region itself was lost to the endless, unyielding river of time...

And the only reason they—and others like them—still possessed texts written by their ancestors, instead of having them destroyed, was because of a single event: the downfall of those very extragalactic powers themselves.

Once the truths they had worked so hard to suppress were finally exposed, word spread. The great universal powers soon caught wind of it. According to the texts, those universal powers conducted their own investigations—or so their ancestors had heard, after purchasing fragments of information from credible sources.

The records went on to reveal what those investigations had uncovered: the three extragalactic powers had been in league with the demonic faction. That was the only reason the universal powers needed. With that, there was no trial, no chance for mercy—those outsiders were obliterated on the spot.

The news of their fall was so immense that it echoed far beyond this galaxy, reaching even their distant home worlds. And it was because of this event that the survivors of that age chose to record their history in secret. They resolved that if anything strange should ever again stir in relation to the Ancient Holy Region, future generations would not be caught unprepared.

And indeed, these written texts proved invaluable to many of the older powers—most of them Tier-1 grade, standing near the very top of the galaxy's hierarchy.

In the central regions of the Milky Way lay a particular star sector. A sector normally contained dozens of star regions, but this one was unlike the rest. Its space, which should have been dark like any other, instead shimmered with multicolored lights born of rich elemental mana.

Within that sector, one star system held a massive planet, encircled by layers of defensive technology that formed a fortress-like shield. This was the ancient homeworld of the Helios Federation—one of the seven superstates of the Milky Way, and among the oldest.

On that planet, within its innermost sanctum, a man of superior human physique sat at a long table, studying an ancient text. The pages detailed past events in greater depth than most records preserved.

It even mentioned what many of the other old powers only guessed at: the reason the battle between the three extragalactic powers and one ancient power of the Milky Way had occurred—an apocalyptic clash that had ended in the mutual destruction of all four, albeit for very different reasons.

The cause of the battle was not the Ancient Holy Region itself, but an artifact—though not one forged in antiquity. It was a natural formation, born in that land millions of years ago, and far more coveted than crafted relics. Unlike artifacts made by hand, it carried the raw, untamed power of creation itself.

Though incomplete, its strength was undeniable. In the right hands, it promised an advantage so great that, within only a few thousand years, its wielder could stand on par with the universal powers.

It was for this reason, and this reason alone, that the apocalyptic war had erupted.

"Oh…" the man murmured, rubbing his chin as his eyes scanned the text. Surprise flickered across his face as the details unfolded, his anticipation building toward what this meant for that particular star system.

"It would be disappointing if that artifact had fallen into the hands of those three powers," he muttered. "After all, their greed and their dealings with forces they should never have touched were what doomed them in the first place. To think they might have gained it after all…"

With that, he turned the page, eager to learn more. His eyes searched the ancient script, seeking the answer to the question gnawing at him: was the artifact still within the Ancient Holy Region—or had it been taken by those extragalactic powers long ago?

That possibility, he thought grimly, would be the greatest disappointment of all.

And as the man continued reading the ancient records left by his ancestors, he finally found what he sought. What he discovered was at once disappointing, yet also a relief—but only for a moment.

The texts confirmed that the ancient people of the Northern Holy Region had never allowed the artifact to fall into the hands of the three extragalactic powers. Despite unbearable pressure and devastating losses, they had resisted. But when they realized the war was lost, they entrusted the artifact to their most loyal subordinates, who carried it away and hid it.

Where it was hidden was not directly written in the texts. Yet there were hints—fragments left by those ancestors—that suggested the artifact was no longer in this galaxy at all. It had been taken elsewhere, far out of reach of both them and their enemies.

Still, the records spoke of one last possibility: that within the Ancient Holy Region itself there might remain a clue—perhaps even a map—pointing to where the artifact had been taken.

But the man reading the records was far from pleased. What he found left him frowning. The texts offered no clear path to access that star system, nor any certainty that the map his ancestors had spoken of could even be found there. Worse, while they hinted at where it might be, they never revealed its exact location within the Holy Region.

That troubled him deeply. On one hand, he could take action—perhaps even claim the entire region under the banner of his Federation. Yet doing so would demand staggering resources. And he knew there was no reason to assume his rivals were ignorant. Even if they did not know as much as he now did, they surely suspected something. If he moved first, he risked confirming their doubts, drawing them down upon him.

The possibilities and risks tangled together, pressing on him. There was no guarantee that even if he uncovered a map, it would lead anywhere he could exploit. Another galaxy would be foreign ground—territory where he could not act as freely as he could here.

"What should I do?" he muttered, mind racing. The temptation was immense—an artifact that could raise his Federation to a height approaching the universal powers. Yet that was a distant dream, and he doubted any artifact could truly make such a leap possible. He was far less concerned with legends of supremacy across the cosmos and more with whether it could help him lead the Helios Federation beyond the rule of a single galaxy—the one he called home. That, at least, seemed believable, attainable.

But he would not stake everything on one uncertain hope. He didn't even know if the artifact existed, much less where it might be hidden. And if it did exist, who could say it hadn't already fallen into another's hands? The writings of his ancestors spoke only in riddles, nothing certain, nothing proven. A hypothesis—yes, a cursed one. Yet that uncertainty only steeled him further. If there was even the faintest chance, he would go through all the trouble it demanded.