WHAT!? iM REBORN AS A METEOR

Carter's speed was mind-blowing—upgrading Astro Movement to level 6 had him cruising through the cosmos at seven times the speed of light. Even if a planet suddenly loomed in his path, it would be reduced to nothing more than fuel for his growth. He marveled at his power but remained focused on his goal.

"I don't get it, System. If all I need is mass and C energy, why can’t I just pull objects with my gravity control? What's the point of all this traveling?"

[SYSTEM] The host must acquire life equations as well, in order to create planets or multiple planets with diverse ethnicities and races. If the host stumbles upon a moving spaceship or another inhabited planet, the host should collide with it to absorb the necessary data.

"So, basically, I'm just going to be out here committing extinction-level crimes," Carter muttered, shaking his head.

[SYSTEM] If the host prefers to interpret it that way, then I suppose so.

"Interpret it that way? That’s literally what you just described!" He sighed deeply, realizing the futility of arguing with the System. "No point in debating. You’re just giving me the best options, and it’s up to me to follow through."

His mind set, Carter scoured the empty void of space, searching for any sign of intelligent life. Though it wasn’t going to be easy, his determination never wavered. The possibilities of his existence—what he could create, what he could become—pushed him forward.

After about 7 years of flying through space looking for a planet and the back of Carter's vision carter sensed a ship but it was no ordinary ship it was at most the size of a continent it wasn't shaped like a ship either it was more like a tower with rings around it carter couldn't see through walls but he could sense millions of life on it.

“Bingo”

The massive structure Carter had spotted was none other than X3X, an interstellar prison infamous across universe 296. It was one of 13 such prisons, each housing some of the most dangerous aliens in the entire universe. But it wasn’t just their races that made them dangerous—it was their reputations as notorious criminals. Murderers, warlords, and thieves of unimaginable power were locked away in its impenetrable walls, many from unique races with abilities that could wreak havoc on entire planets.

Even the wardens who controlled the prison weren’t ordinary beings. They were powerful, battle-hardened aliens, each handpicked for their strength, intelligence, and ruthlessness. To guard the galaxy’s worst, only the best would do.

Onboard the X3X interstellar prison, a tense atmosphere filled the halls. One warden, his face lined with worry, turned to another, giving what seemed like a simple order.

"Go get Grekan his lunch."

The command alone sent a shiver down the younger warden’s spine. His eyes widened in panic. "Please, sir, send someone else!" He stammered, clearly terrified. The senior warden merely shook his head.

"There are no buts. You've been chosen to go down there today," he said firmly. His expression softened for just a moment, before he added, "Good luck."

With that, he walked away, leaving the younger warden frozen in place, fear gripping his every muscle. The idea of delivering food to one of the most dangerous inmates in the prison—a being feared even by the wardens themselves—seemed far from simple. Grekan was not just another prisoner. He was something much worse, something that made even the most powerful of wardens tread carefully.

Whatever Grekan was, the mere thought of facing him was enough to leave even the strong shaking in their boots.

The warden, heart pounding in his chest, knew he couldn't refuse the order. With heavy steps, he made his way to the cafeteria on the cell block, where the kitchen staff had already prepared Grekan's meal. As he grabbed the tray, he could feel the weight of everyone's eyes on him. The word had clearly spread—he was on Grekan duty today.

The room fell silent as he moved. All the staff watched him with a mix of pity and unease, as if he were walking to his doom. Some whispered, others just stared. It was an unspoken tradition—everyone knew what it meant to be sent down to Grekan’s cell. As he left the cafeteria, tray in hand, the air felt thick, every step heavier than the last.

When he entered the hallway on the block leading to the elevator, even the prisoners in their cells took notice. They crowded to the front of their cells, peering through the plasma energy bars as the warden passed by. He could feel their eyes burning into his back. The other wardens in the vicinity, even the toughest of them, avoided eye contact. It was as if an invisible line had been drawn between him and the rest of the prison, separating him from those who still had time to breathe easy.

The elevator loomed ahead—its doors cold, steel, and silent. It was the only access to Grekan’s cell, deep in the belly of the prison, where the most dangerous criminals were held in isolation. As the warden stood before it, his breath caught in his throat. There was no turning back now. He reached out, pressed the button, and waited as the elevator doors slid open with a soft hiss.

All eyes remained on him until the very moment the doors closed.