First Intergalactic Emperor: Starting With The Ancient Goddess-Chapter 461: A Gift

Xavier came awake to a knock that didn’t belong to the hotel.

It wasn’t a loud knock someone would do if they were enemies. Just firm enough to cut through sleep and make his brain catch up before his body did.

He turned his head, eyes half-open, checking the other side of the bed out of habit.

It was empty.

For a second, his pulse ticked up, then he heard it—water running in the bathroom. A steady wash against the tub. Arlen was already up.

Xavier exhaled through his nose, rubbed his face once, and sat up. His skin was cold where the sheet had slipped down. He stayed still for a beat, listening for anything else through the door, through the walls, through the hallway.

He got up without rushing, grabbed his pants from the chair like he’d done it a thousand times, and pulled them on. No shirt. No weapons in hand. He didn’t need theatrics in a place like this. 𝘧𝓇ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝘣𝓃ℴ𝓋𝑒𝑙.𝑐𝘰𝑚

He crossed the room and opened the door a crack.

A hotel staff member stood outside with that carefully neutral smile that came with training. He held out a box—big, squared, wrapped like a gift, edges reinforced. The kind of packaging people used when they wanted you to believe it was harmless.

"Mr. Xavier," the staff member said, voice polite, rehearsed. "This was dropped off at reception. They asked us to deliver it directly to your room."

Xavier didn’t fully open the door. He took the box with one hand, weighing it without looking like he was weighing it.

"Who dropped it?"

The staff member gave a tiny shrug. "They didn’t leave a name. Just said it was for you."

Xavier’s eyes held him for a moment longer, long enough to make sure the guy wasn’t lying on instinct, then he nodded once.

"Alright."

He closed the door again and locked it, then locked it the second way too.

The box sat in his hands like a dare.

He stared at it, trying to build a list in his head of people on Jupiter who would bother giving him a "gift." It came up empty fast. The ones he knew were already around him.

Veyr crossed his mind, but Xavier crushed that thought immediately. Veyr hadn’t been told this hotel’s name. And if even if somehow knew, he wouldn’t bother packing or wrapping it up.

Which meant one of two things.

Someone found out anyway.

Or someone already knew before he arrived.

The water in the bathroom kept running. Arlen still hadn’t stepped out. Xavier didn’t call to her. He didn’t want to put anything in her head until he saw what he was dealing with.

He carried the box to the table and set it down gently, like it might bite him if he got impatient.

Then he started opening it.

Whoever packed it had done it with care and money. Seals. Inner wrapping. Reinforced corners. Foam layers. A nested casing inside the casing. It wasn’t the kind of packaging a random admirer would use. It was the kind of packaging someone used when they understood what damage a relic could take, or what damage it could cause if it arrived wrong.

Xavier worked through it without rushing. Cutting tape clean. Peeling layers back one at a time. Checking for anything hidden, anything rigged, anything that would punish the first greedy hand that tore into it.

When he finally lifted the last protective panel, his brain went quiet for a second.

Matte black fabric.

He didn’t need to read a label. He didn’t need to see an auction lot number.

He knew it the second his eyes landed on it.

The Black Covenant.

Xavier’s mouth opened like he was going to laugh, then didn’t. No sound came out. His hand hovered over it for a moment like touching it might prove it was real, then he pulled back and looked deeper into the box instead.

A note lay on top of the inner padding, folded once, stiff paper with a clean edge.

He picked it up first. And unfolded it.

The writing was printed, not handwritten. Not sloppy. Not rushed. Someone had typed it, then made sure it looked personal anyway.

[My little Xavier,

I saw you at the auction.

I saw the way you looked at it. Like you already owned it, like you were deciding whether the universe deserved to let you have it.

You wanted the Black Covenant.

Consider this a gift.

Wear it. Let it learn you. Let it follow your intent.

Rule your cities. Break your enemies. Build your empire from the bones they leave behind.

The universe is watching.

Astrea is waiting.

Some doors open only for kings.

— Golden Veil Consortium.]

Xavier stared at the last line.

"Golden... Veil," he murmured, testing the name like a coin between his fingers.

He didn’t recognize it. But that didn’t make him feel better.

Behind him, the water cut off.

A beat later, the bathroom door opened, and Arlen stepped out with a towel wrapped around her, hair damp, skin warm from the bath. She took one look at Xavier standing shirtless over an open box, and her eyes sharpened immediately.

"Please tell me that’s room service," she said, voice casual on purpose, because she was giving him space to answer honestly.

Xavier didn’t look away from the note when he spoke.

"It’s a gift."

Arlen walked closer, then leaned in to see what was inside.

The moment her eyes caught the jacket, the towel in her hands tightened.

"Okay," she said, the word coming out like a problem. "That’s not a gift. That’s a threat wearing perfume."

Xavier finally set the note down on the table, his fingers careful like he didn’t want to smear the ink even though it was dry.

"Yeah," he said. "Or a hook. They bought it for three billion USC. Most of the Jupiterians don’t have that much money... and I get something worth that as... a gift."

Arlen’s gaze moved from the jacket to his face. "Someone knows where we are."

Xavier nodded once, eyes calm, mind already running through the list again, rebuilding it with more honesty this time. "Someone’s close enough to reach the front desk without getting stopped."

"And they know what you want."

Xavier looked at the jacket again. That matte black refusal of light. That history stitched into it. That promise of violence built into the threads.

"Or they know what I’ll become," he said quietly.

Arlen’s hand hovered near the box like she wanted to touch it, then she pulled back at the last second, instincts winning over curiosity.

"What’s the note say?"

Xavier tapped it with two fingers. "They watched the auction. They’re calling themselves the Golden Veil Consortium. They want me to wear it and take over."

Arlen gave a short, humorless smile. "That’s cute. They’re offering you a crown."

"They’re offering me a leash," Xavier said, and his eyes stayed on the jacket like it might move on its own. "I just don’t know how long the chain is yet."

Arlen’s voice dropped. "So what do we do?"

Xavier didn’t answer right away. He reached into the box, not grabbing the jacket yet, just sliding the protective foam aside to see if anything else was hidden beneath it. No extra note. No tracker that he could spot on a quick pass. No obvious tech.

Still didn’t mean it was clean.

He straightened, rolled his shoulders once, and looked at Arlen with that calm confidence that always meant he’d already decided something dangerous.

"We don’t panic," he said. "We don’t show fear. And we don’t wear anything we didn’t bleed for until we know who’s trying to dress us."

Arlen nodded, eyes hard. "And if it’s a real power group?"

Xavier gave her a faint grin that didn’t reach his eyes.

"Then they picked the wrong way to introduce themselves," he said. "Because now I’m curious."