Beyond the stars, in the vast reaches of the universe, there existed a kingdom built on fear, where the ruler’s word was absolute law, and mercy was a myth. Here, the empire was forged in fire and steel. Not loyalty, but obedience.
And its ruler? Not any ordinary King. But A Conqueror. A Living Weapon… whose hunger for power devoured worlds. They called him Asura…
King Asura was fascinated by ancient myths, tales of mighty rulers and warlords, who defied Gods and Kings. One name burned brightest in his mind: Ravana, The Ten-Headed Demon King. A scholar-king of unparalleled intellect – a visionary unbound by the limits of mortality, who was feared more than he was loved, and the one who demanded absolute dominance. Yet for all his strength, he had fallen.
Ravana’s legend spoke of invincibility. But his end proved otherwise: a king who could be killed was no true god. That was the flaw Asura saw in Ravana. He aspired to surpass Ravana.
His belief was simple:
“A king who rules with kindness is a king who invites rebellion.”
Asura desired to become a force of nature himself. No challenges. No honourable fights. Only annihilation.
In his domain, loyalty was not earned—it was forced. The weak did not serve—they were discarded. And the strong? They were rebuilt.
King Asura sought to make his army unstoppable, not through mere training, but by evolution. 
With the help of his scientist minions, he experimented on his own men, replacing their limbs with cybernetic enhancements. He turned his knights into war machines, sacrificing flesh for metal. He installed neural warfare chips, ensuring total obedience. He stripped away fear. He rewired their very souls, forging soldiers who knew no pain, no doubt, no mercy.
At first, his people did not know. By the time they realized the horror of what he had done, it was too late.
“I am not building an army. I am forging an empire of Immortals.”
He grafted additional mechanical arms on himself, each equipped with advanced weaponry. As he evolved further, holographic visages appeared beside his face, each a projection of his intelligence. They sneered, smirked, and plotted. They moved independently, whispering strategies, calculating moves.
His body became a fusion of flesh and cybernetics, a living war engine. A fortress of metal and mind. 
His people whispered a new name in terror—Cyborg Asura.
“I will not be remembered as a king. I will be remembered as a force of nature.”
After centuries of relentless war, Cyborg Asura conquered his entire planet. One by one, the kingdoms fell before him. Empires crumbled. With every victory, he repurposed the defeated armies into his cybernetic soldiers, harvesting their technology, resources, and warriors to fuel his unstoppable advance. It was not a world anymore—it was a machine, a planet of cybernetic life, ruled by his undying will. 
And still, with all the power in his grasp, he felt nothing at all.
What is a king without new lands to conquer?
What is a god without more worlds to rule?
The hunger inside him did not fade—it only grew stronger.
His scientists had long developed spacefaring vessels, but now, they were warships. His empire was not meant to rule one world—it was built to rule the stars.
And then, he saw it.
A blue planet.
Rich with life.
Primitive, but ripe for conquest.
The scanners pulsed and the name appeared across his command console: Earth.
A name unknown to him, but soon to be his.
As his fleet descended upon the planet, Cyborg Asura gazed at the world before him, amused by its simplicity.
A world of flesh, still ruled by fragile mortals.
“This world has no king. I shall change that.”
He did not see an enemy. He saw a prize.
Perhaps, for the first time, he had found a world worthy of a true war – but one where he might finally meet his match.
To be continued…
