My Talent's Name Is Generator Chapter 689: A New Name

"The following name was proposed by the boss himself," Aurora announced as the text materialized before them.

Order of Absolute.

North was the first to react, breaking the quiet. "I agree to this," she murmured softly.

Silver gave a firm nod. "It is clean and powerful. It possesses a certain elegance as well."

Lyrate let out a small scowl. "I hate the fact that I don’t hate it."

Aurora wore a smirk. "That is high praise indeed."

Steve scratched his head thoughtfully. "Okay... yeah. That one actually works."

Every gaze shifted toward me.

I began to speak slowly, ensuring that the weight of every syllable was felt.

"It’s not about us," I declared. "It’s about our purpose. We do not seek to rule. We do not intend to conquer. If someone wishes to sit upon a throne, they may do so. If someone desires to forge an empire, they are free to try." I paused for effect. "None of that is our concern."

My tone grew slightly more stern.

"Our function is to establish the framework that permits this universe to endure. We are the rules that keep it upright. We are the lines that must never be crossed. A force that seeks to replace this universe is currently invading it. When such a thing happens, neutrality is nothing more than a lie."

I locked eyes with each of them individually.

"We shall safeguard the laws that define this universe. We will enforce them with absolute resolve. Not selectively. Not for political gain. Absolutely. If you govern within those laws, you will never even hear our name. But the moment you violate them—when your greed threatens peace and existence itself—there will be dire consequences. We are not here to be loved. We are here to ensure a universe still exists for others to fight over."

I pressed on.

"Our reaction will not be balanced," I added. "It will not be open to negotiation. When we intervene, there will be no middle ground. Our loyalty is absolute—to this universe and its continued survival. Not to any faction, race, crown, or council. If a threat targets the foundation itself, we will oppose it, regardless of who they are.

And when we strike, our wrath will be absolute as well. It won't be reckless or driven by emotion. It will be final. We won't issue a second warning. We won't bargain once the line has been stepped over. We will not pretend a compromise exists when it clearly does not.

Our violence will never be random. It will be intentional and precise. It will be enough to eliminate the threat and serve as a reminder to all why those boundaries were set in the first place."

A heavy silence settled over the room.

"This isn't about picking a side," I concluded. "It’s about defining a boundary. Stay within it, and we will not interfere. Cross it, and you will face us."

I looked up once more.

"That is the meaning of Absolute."

Aurora’s smile grew wider. "Exactly."

Primus lifted his glass in a toast. "Then the matter is settled."

Ragnar struck his chest with a fist in agreement. "Order of Absolute."

They all nodded, one after the other.

That was how it began.

There was no grand ceremony or formal declaration.

It was simply a group of individuals around a table, sharing arguments until they found a name that felt right.

That was the reason why, when Dravon questioned me about the name of our organization, I gave him an immediate answer.

"Order of Absolute," I told him.

Then, I stopped restricting myself.

The suppression I had been maintaining shattered without a sound.

My aura surged outward. It wasn't a violent explosion; instead, it descended like a heavy weight.

The ship trembled first, its metal frame groaning as if the structure had suddenly forgotten how to support its own mass. The lighting dimmed. Essence conduits stalled, their internal currents freezing into an unnatural stillness. The mechanical hum of the engines died away, as if the very concept of sound had been crushed flat.

Outside, the void itself shifted.

The Essence throughout the surrounding vacuum ceased all movement. Every wave, fluctuation, and background current simply vanished. It felt as though the universe had taken a sharp breath and was unable to let it out.

Death did not arrive with a roar.

It arrived silently and absolutely.

Dravon’s body went rigid. His knees buckled slightly before he could catch himself. The two demons flanking him stumbled, their armor grinding as their bodies instinctively attempted to kneel. Color drained from their faces; their eyes were wide and their pupils quivered as they stared at me in pure shock.

This was more than mere pressure. This was true authority.

Then, just as quickly—

I withdrew it.

The aura disappeared as though it had never been there.

The ship stabilized. Essence began to flow once more. Sound returned to the air, and space seemed to breathe again.

Dravon gasped for air, sweat forming on his forehead. His hands shook until he balled them into fists, forcing his body back under control.

He gazed at me, his eyes a mixture of terror and sudden realization.

I met his look with a calm expression.

"Changes are coming to the Blue Spiral Galaxy," I remarked. "And we will be the ones guiding that change. Today, I am offering you a hand in friendship. Your response is your own choice. Whatever follows will be the result of that decision."

Dravon gulped and gave a nod.

"I... I understand," he managed to say. He paused briefly. "But if you don't mind, I have a question."

"Ask it," I replied.

"Why have you remained hidden for so long?" he inquired. "How is it that no one knows of your group?"

A faint grin touched my lips.

"Hidden for long?" I chuckled. "I haven't even reached twenty years of age."

Dravon froze in place.

"What?" he stammered, staring. "Are you mocking me?"

I shook my head. "I am not."

He blinked repeatedly, struggling to digest the information. Eventually, he exhaled a long, heavy sigh, closed his eyes for a moment, and composed himself.

"I have many questions, but I will restrain myself," he said slowly. "Then I assume I am correct in thinking this is the first step toward making yourselves known to the rest of the galaxy."

I nodded in affirmation.

"In that case," Dravon continued, his voice now steady, "I would be honored to be part of your legend. Mazikeen and Korvath are comrades I trust with my life. If you have trust in me, you should trust them as well."

I gave another nod.

He went on, "Have you ever stepped into a rift before?"

"This will be our first time," I answered.

Dravon nodded. "That is for the best. Rifts of this type are the most frequent in our galaxy. They provide a clear lesson on what to expect from the Eternals."

He looked past me, his gaze fixed on the imaginary battlefield ahead.

"This is a Grade Four rift," he noted. "Over the last ten years, we have attempted to seal it with overwhelming power more times than I can count. Every single time, the Eternals were prepared."

"What exactly do you mean?" I asked.

"Currently, only Transcendents like ourselves are sent to Grade Four rifts," he clarified. "We tried deploying stronger warriors—older Transcendents with vast experience, those on the verge of reaching the Saint level. Every time we did, they countered with someone of equal strength."

He let out a soft sigh.

"We even deployed a Saint once," he added. "They simply responded with one of their own."

Dravon’s jaw set firmly. "That is how we reached this deadlock. We are unable to advance, yet we cannot pull back either."

His expression hardened.

"And ultimately, we are the ones suffering the losses. They fight using Phantoms and Abominations, while we lose actual people."