The next day arrived with an almost serene grace. Morning sunlight filtered gently across the planet, its warm rays brushing the landscapes with a soft, golden hue. Across the vast skies, aircraft after aircraft descended in orderly succession, each one carrying passengers destined to converge for the long-awaited gathering. Yet, as had been the case with Anthony's team, no one could disembark immediately; all were compelled to wait until their numbers reached a predetermined threshold, ensuring that the arrivals occurred in coordinated harmony.

Among the assembled races were representatives of the top-tier races, the mid-tier races, and the lower-tier races, though none of them moved beyond their assigned positions. They remained patiently, silently observing, their anticipation mingled with a subtle respect, or perhaps apprehension, toward what was to come. Moments later, yet another aircraft descended from the sky, moving with the same effortless elegance as the others. The instant the massive craft breached the planet's airspace, countless eyes turned toward it, instinctively recognizing the presence of a particular, elite race.

The Celestial race.

The aircraft came to a smooth halt, hovering mere meters above the ground. Its hatch hissed open, drawing the collective gaze of all who had gathered. From within, five beings of the older generation emerged. At the center stood a man whose figure was instantly recognizable to those familiar with the Celestials' hierarchy.

His hair was streaked with white, gold, and midnight blue, each color blending seamlessly into the next as if painted by some divine hand. His posture exuded authority and command; he was imposing simply by existing. This was Zachary, father to Aaaninja, a powerhouse of unparalleled stature.

Beside him stood his wife, the mother of Aaaninja, a figure whose presence radiated elegance and quiet power. Accompanying them were three other Celestials, representatives of their race and witnesses to its enduring supremacy.

From the aircraft, a young man stepped forward. White hair crowned his head like a halo, flowing smoothly with each measured step. His eyes were closed, yet his gait suggested an acute awareness that surpassed the need for sight itself, as if he could perceive the entirety of the world more clearly than anyone else could with open eyes.

He was Aaaninja Chronisynth Eternos, the champion of the Celestial race, a man whose mere presence demanded attention and reverence.

He moved as though an emperor among mortals, the two women flanking him taking their positions like royal concubines, guardians of his stature and influence. His closed eyes seemed to pierce through the crowd, scanning, seeking, searching for something, or someone.

'They aren't here. I had thought we would at least meet them here,' he mused silently, floating effortlessly above the ground, his presence radiating calmness in every direction.

"Are you looking for Anthony and Lucian?" a soft female voice called from the side, drawing Aaaninja from his contemplations.

"They either arrived earlier than we did, or they have yet to arrive," Aaaninja replied calmly, his voice steady as the wind carried it across the gathering.

The woman to his right was Altheria Astralyne Nexoria, Aaaninja's girlfriend. She merely nodded at his words, her expression composed, acknowledging the situation without comment. The woman to his left, Elyndra, was the third member of their team.

Unlike Altheria, she shared no romantic connection with Aaaninja, yet her presence was no less significant. Elyndra floated silently beside him, her eyes closed, as if lost in thought or perhaps meditating. Time seemed irrelevant to her as she maintained her calm, unmoving composure.

As the Celestials disembarked, the other races stirred, stepping forward to greet them. The Celestial race held a reputation for unmatched power, even among the top ten races. Aligning with them, or merely showing deference, was considered an opportunity of great fortune. Many sought to forge connections, to gain favor from such prestigious beings.

Furthermore, Aaaninja's parents were no ordinary Celestials; they were powerhouses, beings whose influence extended above and beyond most others. For lower and mid-tier races, earning their recognition was a dream few dared hope to achieve. Some even turned their attention toward Aaaninja himself, aware of his burgeoning potential. During the Starborn Tournament, he had already displayed extraordinary prowess, achieving True Enlightenment granted by the Galaxy itself despite enduring a loss.

To these onlookers, it was prudent to establish a connection with him now, while he had not yet reached the pinnacle of his abilities, a time when forging alliances would be far easier than after he matched the strength of his father, Zachary. Yet these assumptions were naive. If they were aware of his current power, any thought of approach would vanish instantly, swallowed by the recognition of an immeasurable gulf they could not hope to bridge.

Aaaninja exhaled quietly, personally uninterested in the formalities of political greetings. He disliked such moments of forced civility, preferring to focus on matters of consequence. But, a single glance from his father, commanding in its simplicity, made him comply. With a practiced, polite smile, he accepted each greeting offered, concealing any trace of his inner distaste. Power aside, Zachary remained his father, and a father was a father, immutable and enduring, no matter how strong one became.

Altheria and Elyndra, too, received their share of political acknowledgments. Both saw through the subtext of each bow, nod, and polite phrase, recognizing the eagerness and opportunism behind them. After a short time, the greetings concluded, and the visiting races retreated to their respective waiting areas, the anticipation building yet again in silent patience.

Hours passed slowly as more aircraft descended from the sky. One after another, the top races revealed themselves: the Ignivores, capable of absorbing any form of energy and converting it into devastating attacks or raw physical power; the Sylphari, masters of limitless speed, surpassing light itself in their movements; the Terramorphs, able to shape and command entire ecosystems at will; the Luminari, rulers of light; and the Netherborn, manipulators of souls. Each race arrived methodically, their presence further intensifying the air of expectation.

Elyndra stirred first, her eyes opening to reveal a serene calm as she spoke. "Should we return to the aircraft? Waiting here like this may take hours."

"Only a few more people remain before we can depart," Altheria replied, her voice carrying the same polite composure, though exasperation was evident in her posture. "Besides, I am looking forward to meeting the younger generation representatives from three of the other races," she murmured with a soft smile, recalling the Starborn Tournament from stories she had heard, though she had not personally attended.

"It's just a meeting. There is nothing to look forward to," Elyndra countered, her tone flat, unmoved by Altheria's enthusiasm.

Aaaninja had remained silent, seemingly detached from the conversation. Suddenly, a subtle smile curved his lips, and he arched an eyebrow. Noticing this, Elyndra and Altheria asked in unison, "What is it?"

Aaaninja's eyes snapped open, the vibrant, rainbow-colored clock-like patterns radiating brilliance as he gazed upward. "He is here," he declared, his voice calm yet carrying an undeniable weight.

"Who?" Altheria asked, though her expression already betrayed her suspicion, it could only be one among the two they awaited: Anthony or Lucian.

"Lucian Darkheart," Aaaninja stated, his gaze calm, fixed upon a distant point in the sky where the young powerhouse had arrived, marking the beginning of yet another clash between extraordinary beings.

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