Riley spent his days in indulgent leisure with his wives, enjoying rare moments of peace, while his countless clones spread across the vast cosmos like drifting shadows.
They infiltrated distant star regions, slipped through spatial cracks, and probed fragile dimensions in search of opportunity.
Their targets were clear—weaker realms. Especially those already under siege.
Realms trembling under invasion, their laws fractured, their spiritual veins drained dry, their skies cracking as if they might shatter at any moment.
Dying worlds were the easiest to approach… or so Riley had believed.
A realm on the brink of collapse should have been desperate.
Desperate realms should have been reasonable.
Over the span of a thousand years, Riley attempted ten different approaches.
Ten carefully calculated strategies.
Ten absolute failures.
The first time, he extended an olive branch. The second, he presented himself as an equal.
