First Intergalactic Emperor: Starting With The Ancient Goddess-Chapter 496: Beating Sense

Xavier lifted his wrist and brought up the proximity signal, letting it broadcast openly. The hover responded immediately, systems waking just enough to acknowledge the owner link.

"That’s the ping," Xavier said. "It’s registered to me."

The man glanced at the display, unimpressed. "Signals get spoofed every day. You think we haven’t seen that trick?"

"I can open it," Xavier said. "Start it. Kill it. Whatever you want."

"Which proves nothing," the second guard said. "Anyone with half a brain can fake a handshake."

Xavier exhaled slowly. "Someone named Angel set the drop. You can check the delivery logs."

"I can open it," Xavier said. "Start it. Kill it. Whatever you want."

"Which proves nothing," the second guard said. "Anyone with half a brain can fake a handshake."

Xavier exhaled slowly. "Angel set the drop. You can check the delivery logs."

The third man straightened slightly at the name, then scoffed. "Anyone can say a name. Doesn’t mean shit."

Xavier looked at their faces and understood then that this wasn’t about proof. It wasn’t about ownership. They didn’t care who the hover belonged to. They cared that it was sitting in their yard, which made it leverage, and leverage didn’t get handed over just because someone asked politely.

He lowered his wrist.

"So that’s how it is," he said.

Klatos shifted beside him, wings tightening slightly. "You tried."

Xavier nodded. "I did."

He stepped forward before the man at the gate could react, driving his shoulder into the guard’s chest hard enough to knock the air out of him and send him stumbling back. The second guard raised his rifle, but Xavier was already inside the reach, twisting the weapon aside and slamming an elbow into the man’s jaw. The bone cracked, and the rifle hit the ground.

The third man went for his sidearm.

Klatos moved at the same time.

He caught the man’s wrist, bent it the wrong way, and forced him down against the gate with enough pressure to make the metal groan. The first guard tried to recover, swinging wild, but Xavier grabbed him by the collar and drove his head into the fence once, twice, until his legs gave out.

It was over in seconds.

Xavier crouched, picked up the dropped rifle, and crushed the firing assembly with his grip before tossing it aside. He looked down at the men on the ground, groaning, clutching broken hands and ribs.

"You didn’t want to listen," he said calmly. "That’s not my problem."

He grabbed the card from then and turned back toward the gate. Then, he tapped the card once, and the locks disengaged with a clean mechanical sound.

The gate slid open.

Inside, the hover responded immediately, systems coming fully online as it recognized him. Lights flared softly.

The engine hummed eagerly as if it was happy to see Xavier.

They were halfway to the hover when one of the men groaned and pushed himself upright.

"Hold up," he said, coughing as he did it. "Don’t get in yet."

Xavier stopped, one hand already on the canopy seam. He turned his head slowly, eyebrows lifting. "You planning to get hit again?"

The man shook his head. "Not that."

Another guard, still sitting against the fence with his arm clutched to his ribs, spoke up. "It wouldn’t be smart to lift off right now."

Klatos stared at them. "You’re giving advice."

"Yeah," the first one replied. "Because if you fly it like this, you’ll crash it."

Xavier straightened and looked at the hover again. "Explain."

The guard nodded toward the vehicle. "That thing’s tuned for Earth. Atmosphere density, gravity curve, thrust response. Jupiter doesn’t play the same way. Higher pressure layers, heavier pull, unstable lift bands near the surface."

He wiped blood from his mouth with the back of his hand and continued anyway. "If you take off without recalibration, it’ll overcorrect on ascent. Best case, you lose control. Worst case, you punch into a structure or stall mid-air."

Xavier blinked once. "Hmm."

’That’s true. I just assumed Angel would have taken care of that when she loaded the car into the ship with Reva and others.’

"Because it’s a custom build," the guard said. "Which means fixing it won’t be a problem. We already started prepping the profile."

Klatos looked between them, disbelief written all over his face. "You’re talking like this is normal. Five minutes ago you were on the ground."

One of them let out a dry laugh. "Yeah, well. That was part of the job."

Xavier turned fully toward them. "What job?"

They exchanged a look, then the first guard shrugged. "We knew it was yours."

Xavier’s expression didn’t change. "Then why all that?"

"We were told not to release it unless the person who came for it could handle themselves," the man said. "No offense, but Ashfall eats people who can’t."

Klatos scoffed. "So you test him by getting your asses handed to you."

"That too," the guard replied. "And before you ask, yes, Angel contacted us. We handled the transfer. We moved the hover here. She told us not to touch it unless someone showed up with the right signal."

Xavier stared at him for a long second. "So you already knew?"

"Yeah."

"Then what was the point," Xavier asked, "of pushing it until you were eating dirt."

The man shrugged, winced, then shrugged again. "Because people lie. Signals get faked. Names get borrowed. But the way someone moves when things turn physical, that’s harder to fake."

Xavier let out a short breath and shook his head. "You could’ve just said that."

"And you could’ve walked away if you weren’t serious," the guard replied. "You didn’t."

Klatos muttered, "I hate this place."

One of the guards gestured toward the hover. "Give us a few minutes. We’ll finish the atmospheric tuning. After that, it’ll fly clean."

Xavier looked back at the vehicle, then at them again. "Do it."

He stepped back from the canopy, folding his arms as he waited, already calculating how much ground they could cover once the hover was finally moving the way it was supposed to.