I’m a comic book lover, writer, and aficionado. I collect, read, and write comics basically all day. I really want to find a good artist that is looking to build a universe with me. I have many issues & episodes ready to go, with SO many more inside my head. Including Spin offs, prequels, & sequels. I posted the first three episodes on here to see if I get any reaction. Hopefully I find someone!
Beneath its crust lay ancient geometries — vast spirals of mineral and memory woven together long before the Anunnaki ever carved their first glyph into metal.
The Anunnaki did not know this.
They only saw what their instruments told them.
Gold.
Oceans of it.
Veins running like arteries through Ki’s mantle.
Salvation buried in stone.
⸻
The mining platforms rose like blackened temples across the surface of Ki.
Obsidian pylons pierced deep into the planet’s body, their tips glowing white-hot as they tunneled through rock and pressure. Living conduits snaked across the landscape, pulsing with liquid gold siphoned from below.
The sky above Ki was always red now.
Not from sunset.
From refinement towers venting metallic vapor into the air.
The Anunnaki called it necessary.
They called it temporary.
They called it survival.
⸻
High Overseer Enlil stood at the edge of Platform Seventeen.
His silhouette was long and precise, armor articulated in layers that moved like living mathematics. Gold circuitry traced beneath his translucent skin — a mark of rank, not ornament.
He watched the extraction feeds stream across his vision.
Yield: increasing.
Atmospheric shipments to Nibiru: stable.
Projected survival curve: rising.
He should have felt relief.
Instead, he felt something he did not have a word for.
Ki trembled beneath his feet.
Subtle.
Rhythmic.
Not seismic.
Intentional.
⸻
Below the platform, humans labored in the open trenches.
They were smaller than the Anunnaki. Softer. Built for adaptability rather than endurance. Their skin blistered beneath the heat of exposed gold veins.
One collapsed.
The others did not stop.
They could not.
Overseer drones hovered above them, humming with glyph-script restraint fields.
“Maintain output,” Enlil transmitted.
The command carried no malice.
Only inevitability.
⸻
Adamu felt the tremor before the machines registered it.
She paused mid-strike, her mining tool suspended above a glowing fissure.
The gold beneath her was not inert.
It pulsed.
Like a heartbeat.
Her own pulse answered.
She swallowed hard.
Around her, the other workers continued carving at Ki’s exposed flesh.
She pressed her palm against the rock wall.
It was warm.
Too warm.
And beneath the warmth was something deeper.
Not heat.
Pressure.
As if something immense were pushing back.
⸻
Far below.
Below the drills.
Below the gold veins.
Below the oldest roots of Ki.
A chamber existed that had not known light for epochs.
It was not carved.
It was grown.
Stone folded into precise spirals, forming a lattice of containment glyphs etched into the planet itself.
They were not Anunnaki glyphs.
They were older.
Denser.
More absolute.
At the center of the chamber, suspended in gravitational stillness, was a hollow star.
Vor’Zakar did not sleep.
It endured.
And every shipment of gold removed from Ki weakened one of the spiraling seals that bound it.
It felt the extraction.
Not as pain.
As thinning.
⸻
Back on the surface, a siren wailed across Platform Seventeen.
The drills had encountered resistance.
Not bedrock.
Not magma.
Something else.
Enlil turned sharply.
“Report.”
A subordinate’s voice flickered through static.
“Overseer… the extraction point has deviated from projected mineral density patterns. The gold vein—”
The feed cut.
The ground split.
⸻
The fissure beneath Adamu erupted.
Not outward.
Upward.
Lines of blinding light shot from the exposed vein, racing across the mining trench in symmetrical arcs. Symbols carved themselves into the air, luminous and impossibly intricate.
Humans screamed.
Anunnaki soldiers dropped into formation, light-spears igniting in their hands.
Adamu fell backward, staring upward as the glyphs arranged themselves above the trench like a ceiling of burning script.
She did not know how she knew this.
But she knew:
This was not an accident.
This was a warning.
⸻
Enlil stepped forward as the symbols expanded.
His armor projected counter-glyphs in defense patterns, attempting to decode and suppress the eruption.
The glyphs did not respond to his authority.
They responded to the gold.
Every conduit filled with molten metal began glowing brighter.
The entire platform vibrated as if Ki itself were exhaling.
⸻
Adamu’s arms burned.
She looked down.
Thin fractures of gold light split across her forearms, branching like lightning beneath her skin.
The obsidian layer began to spread again — not violently, but purposefully. It flowed over her shoulders and collarbones, sealing her in a living armor that shifted with her breath.
She could hear something now.
Not with her ears.
With her bones.
A voice without language.
A memory without thoughts.
⸻
Enlil saw her.
He saw the armor.
He saw the glyph resonance aligning toward her position.
For the first time since arriving on Ki, he felt something sharp and unfamiliar.
Fear.
Not of her.
Of what she represented.
“Seize the anomaly,” he ordered.
⸻
Two Anunnaki soldiers advanced, light-spears leveled.
Adamu staggered to her feet.
She did not want this.
She did not understand this.
But something inside her did.
When the first spear struck her chest, it did not pierce.
The obsidian absorbed the energy and translated it.
The glyphs above shifted violently, as if in recognition.
The second soldier lunged.
Adamu raised her hand instinctively.
The gold vein behind him erupted.
A column of molten light shot upward, not consuming him — but encasing him in suspended stasis. His body froze mid-motion, trapped in a lattice of glowing script.
Silence fell across the trench.
Even the drones hesitated.
⸻
Enlil stepped closer.
He did not raise a weapon.
He studied her.
“Earth does not belong to you,” Adamu whispered.
The words surprised her.
She had never said them before.
But they felt older than her own name.
Enlil’s eyes narrowed.
“Ki belongs to survival.” He said intently.
The tremor beneath them intensified.
The mining platform groaned as distant pylons cracked under stress.
In orbit above Ki, the Descent Fleet adjusted its defensive posture.
Something vast was moving beneath the crust.
And it was no longer content to endure.
⸻
Far below.
In the spiral chamber.
A seal fractured.
Not completely.
Just enough.
Vor’Zakar’s hollow chest flared with collapsing constellations.
A single thought rippled outward through the thinning prison.
They remember me.
⸻
Back in the trench, Adamu’s eyes ignited fully — molten gold bleeding into black.
The glyph ceiling shattered into falling shards of light that dissolved before touching the ground.
The mining operation had not just encountered resistance.
It had triggered response.
⸻
Enlil looked at the damage.
At the soldier trapped in stasis.
At the human girl standing armored in living obsidian.
And for the first time since Nibiru’s skies began to fail…
He wondered if saving his world would cost him this one.
