Rebel by Birth

Before there were laws, there was chaos. Before there were kings, there were wanderers. Before anyone dared to dictate the rules of the universe, there were those who lived beyond them. Rebellion isn’t something learned, inherited, or bestowed. It’s something etched into the very fabric of existence—as natural as the formation of stars and as inevitable as their death.

To be born is to be bound—to gravity, to society, to the expectations of those who came before. From the moment we enter this world, there are forces at work, shaping, confining, demanding obedience. Yet within every system, there are outliers, anomalies, those who do not fit the mold. They do not conform, not because they choose to resist, but because resistance is woven into their very essence. They do not belong within the machine; they are the crack in its foundation.

The Cosmic Truth of Rebellion

The universe itself is an act of rebellion. It began not with order, but with a violent explosion—an untamed, chaotic expansion that defied the void. Galaxies do not move in neat, predictable patterns; they twist, crash, and devour one another in an unending struggle for existence. Black holes consume without mercy, rogue planets drift untethered, and even the most ancient stars eventually refuse to burn, collapsing upon themselves in final defiance of cosmic expectation.

Rebellion is not a flaw of existence; it is existence. It is the refusal of energy to remain still, the defiance of matter against entropy, the raw, unrelenting force that creates rather than obeys. Harkin Zor was born into a universe that demanded submission, but he was not made for kneeling. He was made for warping reality, bending fate, forging something that had never existed before.

Rebellion Throughout Time

History remembers the conquerors, the rulers, the empire builders—but it worships the rebels. Every great change, every shattered empire, every shift in the tides of fate came not from those who enforced the status quo, but from those who stood against it.

The first wanderers who left their caves and walked into the unknown were rebels. The first thinkers who questioned the gods, the rulers, the chains of tradition were rebels. The first spacefarers who looked at the sky and refused to believe it was an impassable barrier were rebels. Progress is not the work of obedience; it is the legacy of those who were born unable to follow.

Harkin Zor’s story begins in the depths of Xalox-9, a place where life was dictated by routine, labor, and servitude to the Galactic Trade Authority. But there are places where rules are meaningless, where only raw survival and untamed ingenuity matter. In the forgotten, lawless corners of the universe, rebellion is not an act—it is a way of being. Harkin was never a follower because there was nothing worth following. He did not break free because he was trapped—he was never meant to be caged in the first place.

The Unwritten Code of the Born Rebel

There is no ceremony, no declaration, no grand awakening when a rebel is born. There is only a knowing—a deep, unshakable certainty that the world is wrong, that the laws are nothing but constructs waiting to be shattered, that the path has never been laid because it is ours to forge.

To be born a rebel is not to choose resistance, but to embody it. It is to stand in the presence of tyrants and refuse to kneel. It is to look at the limits imposed upon us and laugh. It is to build from the wreckage, carve new truths from the void, and never—not for a moment—ask permission.

Harkin Zor did not inherit rebellion. He was rebellion—a cosmic force, a rogue entity, a disturbance in the grand illusion of order. The Andromeda Galaxy never saw him coming. It still hasn’t recovered.