The ship cruised smoothly through the vast expanse of space, its patched-together systems humming softly. Az sat in the cockpit, the small, broken golden object resting on the console in front of them. Rat paced nervously behind, his tail flicking back and forth like a metronome of anxiety. 

"So," Rat said, breaking the silence, "we risked our lives, got chased by shadowy death-monsters, and nearly got blown up. All for *this*." He pointed at the artifact, his nose wrinkling. "What even *is* it?" 

Az picked it up, turning it over in their hands. "I don't know yet," they admitted, their voice calm. "But I can feel something. Like it's... buzzing. It's definitely more than just a chunk of gold." 

Rat leaned closer, squinting at the intricate patterns etched into the object. "Buzzing? That's not comforting, Az. I don't like things that buzz. Buzzing things explode or come to life. Usually both." 

Az chuckled softly. "Relax, Rat. It's just a feeling. Whatever it is, it's important. You don't bury something like this in an ancient temple with guards unless it's worth something." 

Rat flopped into a seat and crossed his arms, glaring at the artifact like it had personally offended him. "Important or not, it's dangerous. I say we chuck it into the nearest black hole and call it a day." 

Az smirked, tucking the object into their bag. "And here I thought you liked shiny things." 

"Not when they're cursed!" Rat snapped. 

Az rose from the cockpit chair, their calm demeanor unwavering. "Look, I'll keep it safe. Whatever it is, it's better off with me than anyone else." 

Rat frowned but didn't argue. "Fine, but if it starts glowing or whispering creepy things, I'm out. No treasure's worth losing my tail over." 

Az glanced back at him with a grin. "Noted." 

The ship's autopilot chimed softly, indicating they were approaching Rat's home—a small, unremarkable asteroid colony nestled in the North Galaxy. 

Rat stood, stretching and grabbing his small pack of belongings. "Home sweet home," he muttered, though his tone lacked enthusiasm. 

Az glanced at him. "You sure you don't want to stick around for a while? There's plenty more treasure to find." 

Rat shook his head quickly. "Nope. I've had enough adventure for a lifetime. And by 'lifetime,' I mean the next week or so. Besides, someone needs to fix that disaster of a ship you call home." 

Az laughed, guiding the ship toward the colony's docking station. "Fair enough. Try not to get into too much trouble while I'm gone." 

Rat shot them a look. "Trouble? Me? Never." 

The ship docked with a gentle thud, and Rat hopped out, waving lazily over his shoulder. "Stay alive out there, Az. And remember—if that thing starts buzzing louder, *run*." 

Az smirked, leaning against the doorframe. "Take care, Rat. I'll call you if I find anything good." 

As the ship pulled away from the colony, Az leaned back in the pilot's seat, their fingers brushing against the bag containing the golden artifact. A faint hum vibrated through the fabric, sending a shiver down their spine. 

"Just what are you?" Az muttered, their eyes narrowing. 

They set a course for open space, their mind racing with questions. Whatever this artifact was, Az had a feeling it was only the beginning of something much, much bigger..

Meanwhile

The sky above was a dull, swirling red, casting an eerie light over a world completely covered in glistening black obsidian and flowing rivers of molten lava. The heat was oppressive, the air thick with the scent of sulfur. Yet none of it seemed to bother the lone figure making his way across the cracked terrain. 

Weeb, his hood pulled low and his mask obscuring his face, strode forward with purpose. Each step was deliberate, his boots crunching against the jagged obsidian ground. Weapons of all shapes and sizes hung from his belt and back, clinking softly as he walked. 

Ahead of him loomed a massive castle, its towering spires and jagged walls made entirely of polished black obsidian, reflecting the fiery rivers below. The castle seemed to radiate an aura of menace, but Weeb didn't falter. He kept moving, his gaze fixed on the enormous iron gates ahead. 

Two guards clad in blackened armor stood at the entrance, their obsidian-tipped spears crossed to block his path. As Weeb approached, they tensed, their glowing red eyes narrowing. 

"Halt!" one of the guards barked, his voice echoing in the oppressive air. "No one enters the Obsidian Castle without permission from the king himself." 

Weeb stopped, standing just a few feet from the guards. His hood shifted slightly as he tilted his head, his masked face unreadable. "Move aside," he said, his voice low and steady, carrying an edge of authority. 

The guards exchanged glances, then tightened their grips on their spears. "We don't care who you are. Turn around, or—" 

"Weeb," he interrupted, his voice cutting through the guard's threat like a blade. 

The moment the name left his lips, the guards froze. Their eyes widened, and their spears trembled in their hands. 

"Weeb?" one guard stammered, taking an involuntary step back. "The bounty hunter from the South Galaxy?" 

The other guard swallowed hard. "They say you're a ghost. That you only show up when someone's already dead." 

Weeb said nothing, his silence more intimidating than any response. 

The guards quickly lowered their spears and stepped aside, bowing slightly. "Our apologies, sir. Please, go right in." 

Weeb didn't acknowledge them. He simply walked past, his steps echoing against the obsidian walls as he entered the castle. 

Inside, the air was cooler but no less foreboding. The obsidian halls gleamed with a sinister beauty, lit by torches that burned with an unnatural blue flame. Weeb's footsteps echoed as he made his way to the throne room. 

Massive double doors, carved with intricate patterns of fire and shadow, opened before him. Sitting atop a throne of jagged obsidian was King Steven, a tall, imposing figure clad in black and gold armor. His crimson cape flowed behind him, and a crown of twisted metal sat atop his head. 

The king's piercing gaze met Weeb's as he entered. "So, the infamous bounty hunter finally graces my court," Steven said, his deep voice filled with both amusement and curiosity. 

Weeb stopped a few paces from the throne, his stance rigid. "You sent for me," he said simply. 

King Steven leaned forward, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "Indeed, I did. There's a job—one that only someone of your... reputation can handle." 

Weeb didn't move, his voice unwavering. "I'm listening." 

"You see Weeb, I have a goal. And it's to rule over non magic users. So there are a few people I want you to get rid of. The first being man named Avalon. I'll give you more details about him if you accept." Steven responded.

" how much will I be paid?" Weeb asked.

"Well...since you came all this way from the south galaxy to the east..how does over 900,000 credit sound to you?" Steven asked with a wide grin on his face.

Weeb gave a simple nod as Steven's smile widened.

Steven's smile widened, satisfaction radiating from his every word. "Good. I trust you won't disappoint me, Weeb."

Weeb turned on his heel, his cloak sweeping behind him as he strode toward the exit. He paused briefly at the door, glancing back over his shoulder.

"I never do," he said, his voice low and steady, before disappearing into the obsidian halls.

As the doors closed behind him, Steven leaned back in his throne, his fingers steepled. "Avalon won't know what hit him," he murmured, his grin growing even wider.

Meanwhile, AZ was back home laying on their bed looking  at the treasure they owned. Until they heard a small creek. The faint creak broke the silence. Az's eyes snapped toward the window. A sudden chill ran down their spine, and instinct kicked in. They leapt off the bed just as the window shattered with a violent crash, glass flying in all directions.

A man in dark tactical gear rolled through the window, landing on his feet with the grace of a predator. In an instant, he drew a blaster, its barrel glowing with a deadly red energy. Without a second's hesitation, he aimed it directly at Az.

"Stay down," the man growled, his voice muffled by a face mask.

Az barely had time to register his movement before they had already taken action. They twisted to the side, their body morphing as they stretched their left arm out, the limb transforming into a long, flexible tendril that wrapped around the blaster in the man's hand. In a swift motion, Az yanked the weapon from his grip and flung it across the room, where it clattered harmlessly against the wall.

The man cursed, reaching for another weapon at his belt—a dagger—but Az was already moving. They dashed forward, their body shifting and contorting as they blurred into motion. With a rapid flick of their arm, Az sent out a hardened, blade-like appendage that slashed through the air. The man barely managed to sidestep, but the edge of the blade still grazed his side, drawing blood.

"Not so fast," Az said coldly, twisting their form once more. Their legs elongated, becoming twice their normal length, and they kicked the man square in the chest, sending him crashing backward into the wall.

The man staggered to his feet, breathing heavily, but there was a glint of determination in his eyes. He quickly pulled out a small dart gun from his sleeve, aiming for Az's neck. The dart shot through the air with lightning speed, but Az's shape-shifting abilities kicked in once again. Their body rippled as they grew taller, sidestepping the dart in the nick of time.

With the dart missing, Az rushed forward, their body shifting and flowing like water. They wrapped their extended limbs around the man's torso, pinning him to the ground with the force of a freight train. His struggle only made Az tighten their grip. They could feel his pulse pounding against their fingers as his breath grew more ragged.

"Who sent you?" Az demanded, their voice icy, yet filled with an undercurrent of authority.

The man smirked, blood trickling from his lip. "I'm just the messenger," he rasped. "But you'll never find out who's behind this."

Az didn't waste another second. With a twist of their body, they retracted their limbs and sent the man sprawling onto the floor. They immediately produced a set of restraints, binding him tightly. His hands were immobilized, his legs tied to the metal support beams in the corner of the room.

"Whoever you are," Az said, their voice low but threatening, "you made a big mistake. And now you're going to tell me everything."

The man glared at them through narrowed eyes but remained silent. Az's patience was legendary, though, and they weren't in any mood for games. They moved to the small desk by the window and grabbed a communicator. After a few moments, they activated it and spoke with an edge of finality.

"Keep him here. I'm going to make sure I get answers."

Az turned back to the man, the cool, calculating look in their eyes saying it all.