READ THE Note:I usually write around 2,000 words per chapter, but now I release them in batches. So don't be surprised if a single release includes the content of 2 standard webnovel chapters. No complaints—you're just getting more at once.

chapter 13 Bonus : Galaxy Reaction

At the depths of Coruscant, within the grand halls of the Sith, two figures sat in the shadows, watching the emergency holofeed of Supreme Chancellor Valorum's trembling announcement. The flickering blue light reflected off their robes—one draped in red, the other in dark, muted black. Darth Plagueis the Wise narrowed his eyes as he observed the sheer panic spreading throughout the Republic-controlled systems.

"Sidious," Plagueis spoke, his voice calm yet laced with tension. "Why has our plan to expose the Republic's weakness turned into all-out terror? This has gone off the rails… far too much."

Darth Sidious, still wearing the mask of Senator Palpatine, clasped his hands together, deep in thought. "The original plan," he began, his voice slow and measured, "was to exploit Senator Ranulph Tarkin's arrogance—to use his ego to provoke an attack on Stark Combine's fleet. That battle alone would have exposed the Republic's vulnerabilities without implicating us directly." His gaze darkened. "But this… this is beyond my control."

Plagueis remained silent for a moment before speaking again, his voice lower this time. "And we both know that 'Joever Bideney ,' the fool eating ice cream, is nothing more than a fabricated identity."

Palpatine nodded, his expression unreadable. "Yes. And if this false identity is hiding the true threat… then we must consider the possibility that the same person behind this chaos is the one who managed to manipulate the Jedi into imprisoning me within the Jedi Temple for an entire day."

Plagueis exhaled slowly. "Because of that setback, I was forced to meditate for an extended period—exerting my full power just to mask your presence in the Force. The Jedi were far too close to sensing your true nature." His eyes narrowed. "But now… the very balance of power is shifting in a way I did not foresee. The darkness I have spent my life shaping is being drowned by something far worse… something not of the Dark Side itself."

Sidious furrowed his brow slightly. "Then, what is your bidding, my master? Do we remain on course? Or must we create a new plan?"

Plagueis leaned back in his seat, his mind racing. His vision in the Force was murky, but he could feel the tremors in the galaxy—unnatural, unrelenting.

"The Yinchorri revolution is still in motion," Plagueis finally said, his voice measured.

"That conflict can still be used to weaken the Jedi further. But we need more than simple war—we need an inferno that engulfs everything in its path." His gaze turned toward the holofeed, where the image of Troiken's destruction played on repeat.

"This… this chaos is spreading like a wildfire against the very fabric of the galaxy. And I can feel it… something darker than anything I have Never encountered before is coming."

Sidious allowed a rare moment of silence to pass before speaking again. His lips curled into a sinister smirk. "Then let us stoke the flames, my master."

At the Jedi Temple, within the grand halls of the High Council Chamber, only two Jedi Masters sat in silence—Master Yoda and Master Mace Windu. The room, usually filled with the wisdom of twelve, now held only them. The reason was simple: every other Jedi Master was leading extensive training across the Order. No longer were they just peacekeepers. The Jedi were now being reforged into something more—true guardians of the galaxy.

The large doors to the chamber opened, and the returning Jedi stepped forward—Master Tyvokka, Plo Koon, Qui-Gon Jinn, and his Padawan, Obi-Wan Kenobi. Their expressions were grim, their robes still stained with soot and battle.

Master Yoda's wise gaze studied them carefully. "Safe, you have returned. Grateful, we are," he said, tapping his cane against the floor. "However…"

Master Windu's deep voice followed, sharp and direct. "The terror in the galaxy remains. And the one responsible for all of it—Joever Bideney—is now the Republic's number one enemy." His eyes narrowed. "Master Tyvokka, explain. What did you experience?"

Tyvokka stepped forward, his tone firm despite the weight of his words. "First off, the Invincible flagship was completely overridden by an unknown force. Every screen displayed a single ominous message: 'You're all going to die down here.' That was the first sign of disaster."

Plo Koon nodded, stepping in. "Then, without warning, the ventilation systems were compromised. A plague swept through the ship, affecting nearly the entire crew. They turned into… creatures. The archives call them Rakghouls. However, the infection did not affect Jedi or any high-ranking officials."

Mace Windu's brow furrowed, his fingers steepling. "Strange. A bioweapon that spares Jedi? That is no coincidence."

Tyvokka exhaled. "It wasn't. The infection spread too deliberately. It was targeted. Whatever force was behind this—whoever orchestrated it—wanted only the common crew to fall."

Yoda hummed in thought, his ears twitching. "An experiment, this may have been. A test, perhaps, of something far worse to come."

Obi-Wan, hesitant at first, finally spoke. "It wasn't just the Rakghoul plague, Masters. There was another horror aboard the ship." He looked at Qui-Gon, who nodded in agreement. "The droid army of the Trade Federation turned on them. Every battle droid. Every security droid. They weren't responding to their Neimoidian commanders anymore."

Qui-Gon's voice was grave. "Something—someone—hacked into their systems and turned them into executioners."

Mace Windu leaned back, his expression dark. "So, in one move, this… Bideney dismantled a Republic fleet, decimated the Trade Federation, and sabotaged their entire battle droid network." His jaw clenched. "We're dealing with something far beyond conventional war. This is pure chaos."

Yoda closed his eyes for a moment before speaking again. "The Dark Side, I feel in this. But deeper still… something beyond it, there is." His eyes slowly opened. "Tell me. This 'Joever Bideney'… what else did he do?"

Tyvokka inhaled deeply. "The worst of it… was the end." His voice became grim. "We barely escaped in a stolen droid transport ship. But as we fled, we saw it."

Plo Koon nodded solemnly. "Troiken."

Mace Windu's eyes locked onto them. "Explain."

Tyvokka's gaze was distant, as if recalling a nightmare. "We saw it happen in real time. The destruction of an entire planet."

Obi-Wan, his voice quiet but shaken, spoke next. "A single faint beam of energy, traveling faster than anything I've ever seen. It struck the planet's core. And in an instant…"

He swallowed. "Troiken was gone."

Silence filled the chamber. Even the ever-stoic Mace Windu's fingers curled into fists. Yoda's ears flattened.

Qui-Gon clenched his jaw. "The Republic thinks it was Bideney's doing. His message played over every holoscreen. He called it Bideney Blast."

Mace Windu's fingers tapped against the armrest of his chair. "A weapon powerful enough to destroy a planet in an instant… yet unlike anything the Republic has ever built." His eyes darkened. "We are not prepared for this war."

Master Yoda's wise gaze slowly turned to Plo Koon. "Plo Koon, as Tyvokka's Padawan, sense I do that something more you wish to say. Speak, you may."

Plo Koon nodded, his voice steady. "Yes, Master. First, I must clarify—Master Tyvokka was shot by Trade Federation droids. Gunray, in his panic, used his remaining forces to target all of us. He was reckless and desperate."

Obi-Wan frowned slightly. "But for some reason, only a few battle droids remained truly loyal to Gunray. The rest had already turned against him."

Master Windu's expression hardened. "Then we categorize them alongside the Rakghouls. The enemy is testing its weapons—both biological and mechanical."

He steepled his fingers. "But I sense there is more you wish to speak of, Plo Koon."

Tyvokka exhaled, nodding. "There is." He took a deep breath before continuing. "Someone saved me. He was the reason I am still alive. He regenerated my organs, sealed my wounds—an ability never I've seen before. We call him… the Armored Man."

Master Yoda's ears perked. "Armored, you say?"

Plo Koon continued, "His self-proclaimed occupation was a 'beast hunter.' But that hardly describes what he truly was. He wore the most advanced armor I have ever encountered. It could phase through solid structures like a ghost. And, more importantly, it blocked my lightsaber."

Master Windu's brow furrowed. "Beskar? Like Mandalorian iron?"

Plo Koon shook his head. "No. Beskar is rare and difficult to shape. This was Not Beskar. And he was not Mandalorian—he never wore their signature helmet, nor did he follow their customs. He carried a weapon—something that functioned like a lightsaber, yet fired a continuous beam of destruction. Not a plasma sword, but as ' a blaster ."

Mace Windu's expression darkened further. "Let me guess—he's missing."

Master Tyvokka's gaze lowered slightly. "He sacrificed his life for us. He stayed behind on the Invincible, ensuring that the Rakghouls did not escape into space. Without him, we wouldn't have made it out alive."

Silence filled the chamber. Even the normally composed Masters felt the weight of the revelation.

Yoda closed his eyes, deep in thought. "A mystery, this Armored Man remains. If alive, seek him out, we must. If fallen, learn from his sacrifice, we will."

Master Windu leaned forward. "Regardless of who or what he was, we have two major concerns. One—Bideney Blast has changed galactic warfare forever. Two—this Armored Man might hold secrets that could tip the scales in either direction."

Tyvokka crossed his arms. "Then we find out if he still lives. Because if he does… we need to know what he really is."

Jin-Woo stood at the bridge of the Invincible flagship once more, his arms crossed as he watched the chaotic aftermath of the battle. The sheer scale of devastation was beyond anything the Republic had ever seen. Entire fleets lay in ruins, planets scarred beyond recognition, and his name—Joever Bideney—had been etched into history as the greatest threat the galaxy had ever known.

Then, the familiar ping of a system notification appeared before his eyes.

...

[Notification: Quest Completed]

Quest: Stark Hyperspace War [Complete]
• Description: Gain a bounty of 10,000,000 credits from the war that is about to begin.
• Reward:

1 ]Shard of Kaiburr Crystal

2 ]Companion Voucher x1

3 ]Mantle's Approach Teleportation Location Voucher x1

_Penalty for Failure: Half of Force abilities will be removed. [Averted/Nullified]

[Hidden Reward Unlocked: Due to Reaching a 1,000,000,000 Credit Bounty (100x the Initial Objective)]

1] Full Kaiburr Crystal (Grants unparalleled connection to the Force, amplifying all abilities.)

2] Blackstone Fortress Teleportation Voucher (Allows Jin-Woo to claim and teleport to the legendary, indomitable Blackstone Fortress.)

3] Supreme Galactic Infamy (New Passive Title: "Endbringer of the Republic")

4] A Sith Holocron of a Dark Lord Long Forgotten (Darth Vitiate's Personal Holocron)

5] The Right to Claim Korriban as Throneworld (The planet is currently sealed until Jin-Woo arrives.)

...

Jin-Woo tilted his head back and laughed. A deep, amused chuckle that echoed through the lifeless halls of the Invincible. "Hah… Endbringer of the Republic, huh? That's a new one."

His eyes scanned through the rewards, but it was the final item that caught his attention the most—Darth Vitiate's holocron. His grin widened. "Ritual of Immortality holocron is already in my possession… but it requires Nathema's energy to unlock its secrets . And now, with this?" His fingers curled into a fist. "Double the power. Or maybe… succeed where those Sith Lords failed."

Chapter 14 Stark Hyperspace War 11 : The Flood

Jin-Woo's eyes flicked to the control panel, where a holoscreen displayed Ranulph Tarkin desperately fending off a pack of Rakghouls in the ship's kitchen. The senator was cornered, a knife in one hand, his other arm covered in scratches and minor wounds. He was sweating, his back pressed against a metallic counter as he gritted his teeth.

"Come on! Do your worst!" Tarkin shouted, his voice laced with defiance despite the desperation in his eyes.

Jin-Woo smirked. The 'Armored Man' playing the hero, huh? He exhaled sharply. Sounds like a job for me.

His exoframe helmet slid back with a sleek mechanical hiss. Without hesitation, Jin-Woo activated his Phase Shift ability, letting his body dissolve into transparent as he dropped straight through the ship's reinforced flooring. The cold metal phased through him like water, gravity pulling him downward in an instant.

The moment his feet hit the ground, he was already moving.

The kitchen was a mess— overturned tables, shattered food trays, spilled rations everywhere. The stench of decay mixed with burning plasma as malfunctioning heating units sparked violently.

And in the center of it all— Tarkin, with nothing but a kitchen knife, surrounded by snarling Rakghouls.

A split-second decision. Jin-Woo's Sentinel Beam snapped up— FWOOOM!

A single, precise shot of golden energy disintegrated the nearest Rakghoul. Before the others could react, he surged forward, fists clenched. CRACK!

Jin-Woo drove his armored boot into the next Rakghoul's skull, sending its body crashing into the metal counter. It twitched once before going still.

The last two lunged— but Jin-Woo was faster. He twisted, grabbing the first one by the throat and slamming it into the ground with enough force to dent the floor. The second managed to reach for him—only for Jin-Woo to pull out his Cindershot, firing a compressed energy round straight through its chest.

The room fell silent.

Tarkin, panting, stared at Jin-Woo with wide eyes.

Jin-Woo turned to him, exoframe armor gleaming under the flickering lights. "Come with me if you want to live."

Tarkin, still catching his breath, eyed Jin-Woo with suspicion. "Are you… Joever Bideney?"

Jin-Woo's expression deadpanned. "The fuck do you think? Do I look like an old man to you?"

Tarkin hesitated, then quickly shook his head. "Never mind. I have a personal starship docked nearby. Get me there safely, and I'll ensure you are rewarded. No—I'll make you my personal admiral."

Jin-Woo simply nodded, already moving.

The journey through the corridors of the Invincible was a gauntlet of chaos. The ship was a graveyard—burning debris, ruptured pipelines spewing gas, flickering emergency lights illuminating claw marks on the walls.

Rakghouls lurked in the shadows, their distorted figures crawling across ceilings and bursting through broken panels. But every time they got close

Jin-Woo's Sentinel Beam cut them down before they even had a chance to scream.

Tarkin followed closely, panting, gripping his side. "You're insanely good at this."

Jin-Woo just kept walking.

Finally, after four grueling minutes, they reached the personal hangar. Tarkin's starship was waiting—a sleek, silver vessel with a streamlined design, built for high-speed evasion and stealth.

But there was one problem. Only one seat.

Jin-Woo glanced at it. Then back at Tarkin."You go first."

Tarkin stiffened, staring at him. "You… you're staying behind?"

Jin-Woo didn't answer immediately. He simply turned, lifting his Sentinel Beam, firing into the darkness as more Rakghouls began pouring into the hangar bay.

Tarkin clenched his fists. He could see it now—this man intended to sacrifice himself.

His voice lowered. "Tell me your name."

Jin-Woo didn't look back. "Armored Man."

Tarkin hesitated. Then nodded, stepping into his ship. "When you survive—" he paused, eyes narrowing, "—because I know you will—come to Coruscant. I will repay this. I will make sure no trouble will ever touch you."

Jin-Woo smirked, eyes hidden beneath his helmet. "We'll see."

He fired another shot, disintegrating a Rakghoul mid-leap. "Now, can you go?"

Tarkin tightened his jaw. Then, without another word, he sealed the cockpit and launched into hyperspace, leaving the armored figure behind.

Jin-Woo lowered his Sentinel Beam, exhaling.

"Offensive Bias," he muttered, his voice calm, "thanks for sparing him."

"Acknowledged," the AI responded in its cold, analytical tone. "The legend of the Armored Man must persist to combat the tyranny of Joever Bideney."

Jin-Woo chuckled, shaking his head. "Hey. Both of them are actually me."

Jin-Woo's helmet interface flickered as a new notification appeared before his eyes.

[Notification: Hidden Quest Successful]

...….

Hidden Quest Title: Be the Hero ( completed )
Description: Saving Senator Ranulph Tarkin and Master Tyvokka while enacting the legendary act of Kyle Reese from Terminator, ensuring survival through self-sacrifice.

Reward: Galaxy Hero (New Passive Title: I Am Armored Man)

(Note: This title only applies to the persona of the Armored Man or Jin-Woo should his name be revealed. Similar to Endbringer of the Republic, it only affects the name Joever Bideney.)

...

Jin-Woo let out a small chuckle as he read through the reward. "The sigma title actually does have its uses," he mused. "Aura farming works well when you play the hero… just like I did with Tarkin and the Jedi."

He exhaled, shaking his head. The galaxy now had two legends to whisper about—
One, the Armored Man, a figure of salvation and heroism.
The other, Joever Bideney, the butcher who reduced a planet to rubble with a single attack.

And he? He was both.

Jin-Woo emerged from the shadows, materializing on the Republic flagship Invincible's command bridge once more. He exhaled, adjusting his exoframe as he walked forward.

"Offensive Bias, show me the holofeed. I want to see the condition of your… 'crazy act' on the Raptor—Stark's flagship—and the rest of Stark's fleet."

Without hesitation, Offensive Bias activated the holofeed.

Before Jin-Woo, holographic displays flickered to life, showcasing the horrifying state of the Raptor and the five Kaloth-style battle cruisers, along with the five Vainglorious-class battle cruisers. The ships were in absolute chaos—twisted corridors filled with writhing masses of Flood spores, grotesque Flood Combat Forms crawling over walls, corpses twitching as infection forms consumed them.

The Raptor, Stark's personal flagship, was the worst of them all. The bridge was barely recognizable. What was once a proud warship of a criminal empire had become a nightmarish breeding ground for the parasite.

Jin-Woo's gaze remained fixed on the Raptor, ignoring the rest. His voice was firm. "You've ensured the ship stays offline, right? If just one Flood escapes to another planet, it'll create a new Gravemind."

"Acknowledged," Offensive Bias responded coldly. "Containment measures remain absolute. No vessel has left the quarantine zone. All attempts to escape have been terminated. Any organic presence within these ships has been classified as compromised and dealt with accordingly. Sentinel forces have ensured that no infection forms remain intact outside of containment."

Jin-Woo exhaled slightly, satisfied with the answer. "Good," he muttered. "One Gravemind was already pushing the line. We don't need another."

His gaze remained on the holofeed a little longer, watching as Sentinels continued their systematic purging of the infested ships. Then, his eyes narrowed.

At the Raptor's hangar, something different was forming.

A grotesque, bulbous mass pulsed at the center of the ruined vessel, writhing with the constant growth of Flood biomass. Amidst the twisted flesh and sinew, a face could still be made out—partially human, yet unmistakably changed.

Jin-Woo smirked. "Iaco Stark... becoming the vessel of a Proto-Gravemind. How poetic." His voice carried an amused, almost mocking tone. "You tried to carve your name into the stars… but instead, you've become the worst nightmare this galaxy has ever faced. If you ever escape, anyway."

"Affirmative," Offensive Bias confirmed. "Iaco Stark was the most intellectually capable organic onboard the Raptor. This made him a prime candidate for assimilation. The Flood instinctively gathered around his body, repurposing his mind to form a Proto-Gravemind."

Jin-Woo took a slow breath. Then, with a simple motion, he released his exoframe.

The armor that had been suppressing his presence peeled away, revealing his true form.

His Shadow Monarch aura—which had been shackled within the armored shell—erupted outward. The dark energy coiled around him like living tendrils, warping the air itself. The pressure alone caused the nearest Sentinels to pause for a brief second, recalculating their sensory data.

Jin-Woo flexed his fingers. "Offensive Bias, slipspace me to the Raptor's hangar. I want to see Stark's last moments myself."

"Affirmative, Supreme Executor," the AI responded. "However, I must issue a warning—prolonged exposure to Flood biomass may result in attempted assimilation. Infection is an inevitable result for any organic within range."

Jin-Woo smirked, stepping forward. Looks like I need to educate you about physique later, Bias. You're worrying too much.

Before Offensive Bias could respond, reality bent.

A Slipspace rupture tore open before Jin-Woo— And in the next instant, he was gone.

The Raptor's hangar was a writhing nest of horror.

Flood biomass had overtaken the structure, pulsing and shifting as it consumed metal and flesh alike. The air reeked of decay, and the grotesque sound of bone snapping and flesh twisting echoed through the ruined ship. Some of the infected forms had already evolved—Stalkers clung to the walls, their elongated limbs twitching with unnatural speed, while Tank Forms lumbered forward, their bloated bodies reinforced with layers of hardened muscle and chitinous plating.

Among them, the remaining pirate hosts—twisted, barely recognizable—raised their blasters, their movements eerily synchronized as they detected an anomaly.

A Slipspace rupture opened. The Flood turned their attention toward it, their grotesque minds preparing to swarm whatever emerged.

But they never got the chance.

The first to step out of the distortion was Beru, the shadow Ant King.

Before the infected pirates could even fire, Beru was already among them. His claws flashed, black chitinous blades cleaving through their bodies in an instant. The mutated forms never even screamed—they were simply torn apart, their pieces scattering across the corrupted hangar floor.

Beru turned his gaze toward the growing hordes of pure Flood forms. His voice echoed like a commander delivering a decree.
"The Liege is coming. Show respect."

A second figure emerged from the slipspace breach.

It was Bellion—the former ruler of a once-proud race, now the highest-ranking knight under the Shadow Monarch's command. In his hands, he wielded his massive Chainsword, the jagged weapon roaring as it tore through the incoming Flood Pure Forms. Flesh and bone were shredded apart, the unholy creatures falling before his might.

As the corpses fell, the air itself seemed to shudder.

A ripple of dark energy spread through the hangar.

Shadows surged, forming into thousands of armored figures—each one kneeling in perfect unison. Shadow Knights, their blackened armor glinting under the dim, flickering lights, lined up in disciplined ranks. Behind them, massive Orcs stood shoulder to shoulder, their hulking frames exuding pure killing intent.

Then— The shadows shifted.

From the depths of the abyss, he emerged.

Jin-Woo stepped forward, his presence warping reality itself.

At that moment, the entire hangar seemed to stop.

The kneeling army of shadows raised their voices in unison, their chant reverberating through the halls with absolute devotion.

"MY LIEGE! YOUR LIFE SHALL ENDURE BEYOND THE UNIVERSE ITSELF!"

The very air trembled with the sound. The Flood—mindless, instinct-driven horrors—hesitated. Even they, creatures of pure destruction, could sense it.

Jin-Woo stood before the grotesque mass that was once Iaco Stark, his gaze cold and unwavering. His eyes now glowed a deep, ominous purple—the sign that his second anchor was solidifying. Two out of four. He could feel his power returning, but it wasn't enough. Not yet.

He would perfect the rest.

The proto-Gravemind twitched, its grotesque form pulsating as it attempted to speak. Stark's half-formed face, still barely recognizable amid the writhing mass of Flood tissue, twisted into a sneer.

"Bideney… my ass…" Stark gurgled, his voice distorted and wet. "Everyone played by you… and hehh… even you are evil."

From Jin-Woo's shadow, Igris emerged—his form a swirling storm of deep purple and black, a manifestation of pure, undying loyalty. Without hesitation, Igris raised his blade, ready to behead the wretched husk of Iaco Stark.

Jin-Woo raised a hand, stopping him with a simple gesture.

Stark let out something resembling a laugh, though it was garbled by the Flood tissue consuming him. "Hehh… what is it? Don't tell me you actually want to negotiate after leaving me like this."

The remnants of his old cunning, of the man who had once tried to rule the galaxy through credits and manipulation, flickered in his dying mind.

Jin-Woo exhaled, raising a hand as shadows coiled beneath him, forming a throne of pure darkness. He sat down leisurely, one leg resting over the other, his gaze locked onto the pulsating, mutating mass of what was once Iaco Stark. The flood-ridden pirate still had a sliver of consciousness, but it was fading fast. Soon, there would be nothing left of Stark—only the collective will of the parasite that had infested him.

Jin-Woo began, his tone almost conversational, "Flood life cycles are interesting. You're still in the proto-Gravemind stage. Right now, you're just a pile of flesh with a few scattered thoughts. But in a few years—maybe even sooner—you'll be something more. The whispers in your head will merge into one. You'll begin to remember everything from every infected mind. You'll gain knowledge beyond anything you could've imagined as a mere pirate."

Stark twitched, his half-melded face barely capable of forming an expression. His corrupted eye rolled toward Jin-Woo, his voice slurred and wet. "Huhhh… are you just gone senile, Bideney?"

Jin-Woo smirked but didn't respond to Stark. Instead, his eyes burned with a deeper glow as he leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand.

"I'm not talking to you, Stark," he said smoothly. "I'm talking to it."

The tendrils of the Flood surrounding Stark pulsed, shifting slightly, as if reacting to his words.

"You're a long way from home, aren't you?" Jin-Woo continued, his voice quiet but filled with authority. "You were meant to infest the Forerunners' galaxy. You were their great nightmare, their ultimate downfall. But here? This is my domain. And the moment you arrived here, you met me—the Shadow Monarch."

The Flood husk trembled. The air seemed to grow heavier as Jin-Woo's power oozed out, suffocating, absolute.

"You'll remember everything I say. All of you will." He leaned back into his throne, his smirk growing wider. "You are not the apex predator anymore. Not in this galaxy. You are nothing but prey now."

The Flood didn't respond—not with words. But the room itself seemed to shudder as if the entity itself understood the weight of his declaration.

Jin-Woo reached forward, his fingers curling into the remaining strands of Iaco Stark's matted, half-infected hair. The pirate's distorted, grotesque face twitched as he was yanked forward, forced to stare directly into the abyss of Jin-Woo's glowing purple eyes.

For a moment, the two locked gazes—one man, one monster. And yet, there was no mistaking who truly held power here.

Jin-Woo smirked. Then, with a sudden, brutal motion, he snapped Stark's jaw to the side with an audible CRACK.

A gargled, wet sound spilled from the proto-Gravemind's throat as its lower jaw now hung uselessly, its body twitching violently. Whatever Stark had left to say—whatever final attempt at defiance he had—was gone.

Jin-Woo's grip loosened, letting the infected pirate slump back into the mass of writhing Flood biomass.

"When you finally form," he said slowly, "when you become a true Gravemind, you will say it. I am a monument to all your sins. But no… that's not quite right."

He leaned in just a little closer, his presence suffocating

"When we meet eye to eye… face to face… even you will die permanently."

The Flood spasmed. Something within it understood. Something deeper than mere instincts—a realization of true, inescapable predation.

"You will serve as another anchor of mine," Jin-Woo continued, his voice unwavering. "In this cruel galaxy—or anywhere else—the only rule is kill or be killed." He let go of Stark's ruined head, watching as it lolled to the side, the proto-Gravemind struggling just to comprehend the inevitability before it.