Galaxy's First Ruler

People had been using 'Whispers' to pass on Secrets without being overheard since the times of Ancient Dreamers.

The scholars had mentioned it in many documents. "The whispers trigger a pleasant tingling sensation in the body of the hearer that typically begins on the scalp and moves down the back of the neck." It seemed like the whispers were like a drug that people, at some point, had become addicted to. But the weird thing about whispers was that they tire the vocal cords out quicker than normal speech.

Was this supposed to be nature's way to tell us one shouldn't rely solely on whispers?

Was it a warning that one shouldn't whisper unnecessarily?

Or was it just a curse, dooming who thinks their secrets are safe if they whisper them out?

*

Forgotten Realm - Milky Way Galaxy

HQ - Hallowed Phantom

Within the palace, the biggest hole in the moon, King Nagendra was seated on his throne. The throne matched the color of his eyes, like a volcanic glass having fire within it.

With every breath, the fire within the throne flashed with a bright red glow before dying down gradually. It was apparent that the King's breathing wasn't as normal as it was six months ago. The hall with no chairs or pillars was desolate, devoid of his usual 10 followers. Their last venture together had cost them more than just lives.

"Ugh!"

A painful grunt came out of the glossy-eyed King. He stretched out his left from under the sleeveless gray robe and looked at it. His fingers were covered in globules of pus, and white juices were oozing out from them. The skin from his wrist to the tip of his fingers kept turning blue and black, and flesh under the skin kept rotting and letting out a foul stench.

Suddenly his pinky finger mutated and its tip became a toothless mouth. It unnaturally extended and lunged at his ring finger. The King jerked his wrist and the pinky finger fell off as if cut by an extremely sharp knife. It wriggled like a snake experiencing torture from its inside and died down in the next few seconds. In its place, on the King's hand, another smooth and normal pinky finger originated. But as soon as its tip formed, pus and rotten flesh took over it like a plague.

"Sigh! Antiochus…"

Hushhhh!!!

The King sighed and uttered a name, but the sudden whispers that seemed to come from a different world made him shut his mouth. The redness in his black glassy eyes intensified, along with the throne, and he extended his neck as if someone was speaking in his ears. His rotten left hand reacted to the phenomenon as if it couldn't tolerate the whispers and all the finger's tips turned into a snakelike mouth.

But the King neither cared for the pain nor about the woman approaching his throne hall.

By the time the hushing stopped, all the fingers had already devoured each other and his left hand had become a mangled tentacle of flesh and pus. The King jerked it again, making the entire left wrist fall off, and in its place, an old wrinkly but healthy hand came out. Alas, the rot and the ulcers filled with pus came running to his fresh hand.

"What a mess!"

"My Lord! May…"

The King had every life on the moon under his senses, and thus, didn't need to know who was coming or going out of his 'palace'. He brought the left useless hand under his gray garb and addressed the unseen woman.

"Come in, Marchioness Maya."

Chann! Channn!!!

Even before the Marchioness entered, the pleasing sound from her anklets and bangles resonated within the hall. Marchioness Maya had a tight traditional style black skirt and only a black blouse on her body. On her neck, there was a necklace that seemed to be made of diamonds, but it emitted a blue and emerald glow. Her black hair smelled like a garden of jasmine and her peacock-like red eyes could have made anyone blush in lust and shame.

But the hall didn't belong to just anyone. It was the throne room of a King.

"Long Live His Majesty, the King!"

Marchioness Maya kneeled and shouted out in great reverence. Her voice was like a hissing snake, dreadful but full of charm.

"Rise. Maya, how's your father?"

The King's voice was like a natural force that made the Marchioness stand up involuntarily.

"My Lord, how can anything be hidden from you? He is becoming better by the day. If it hadn't been for you taking on the full force of the attack, as my father said, then all ten seats would have died or something even worse could have happened."

The King saw the beauty of Maya's painful expression while she twirled a few locks of her hair in nervousness.

"Haha! That old thing! He won't let go of even a single opportunity to flatter me even if he was looking at Death. Tsk! So, he has chosen you as his successor. Hmm, you aren't far from becoming a Duchess. Considering your age, I can call it nothing but peerless talent."

Marchioness Maya's face flushed hearing the King praising her and guessing the reason for coming right away. But the mention of her being young didn't seem to faze her. Who in the Galaxy could claim to be praised by King Nagendra - the Slither of Chaos himself?

"In the name of Chaos, let me serve you and the cause as my ancestors have done before me."

The King stood up from his throne, seeing Maya bowing. Her breasts were large enough to make her cleavage look like a lascivious ravine. He stepped down the stairs and towered in front of her, while the end of his long gray beard kept wriggling like a snake's tail. His right hand reached out and raised Maya's face, holding her smooth and small chin.

The thumping of Maya's heart reached out of her body. Her heartbeats echoed in the hall as the King's face went down towards her face, making her close her eyes in anticipation and fear. But the King's lips didn't go for the two ripe juicy red slices on Maya's mouth and instead stopped by her left ear, letting out the shushing sound of whispers.

Husshhhhh!!!

"Death… Darkling… Roses… Oracle…"