Night transformed the Celestial Citadel.
The floating city that looked divine beneath the sun became something far more dangerous beneath moonlight.
Silver lanterns floated through the sky like wandering stars. Crystal bridges shimmered above endless clouds, and the central palace glowed like a crown suspended between heaven and darkness.
Beautiful.
Elegant.
Deadly.
Tonight was the Banquet of Masks.
And every smile would hide a knife.
Inside the Tower of Guests, attendants dressed in white and gold prepared the heirs for the ceremony.
Rich ceremonial robes.
Masked servants.
Silent corridors.
Everything felt like a stage prepared for betrayal.
Aarav stood before a tall mirror, adjusting the black formal coat chosen for him.
Silver embroidery traced the sleeves like moving shadows.
The Umbra crest was hidden tonight.
No names.
No titles.
Only masks.
On the table beside him rested his ceremonial mask.
Black obsidian trimmed with silver.
Simple.
Sharp.
A king's mask.
Lyra stood near the balcony doorway, already dressed for the banquet.
Her silver gown reflected moonlight like flowing water, and her own mask—half-moon silver with black detailing—only made her look more dangerous.
She crossed her arms.
"You look like trouble."
Aarav picked up the mask.
"I thought that was the goal."
Kael, leaning against the wall like a shadow with opinions, nodded.
"She likes danger."
Lyra gave him a cold look.
"I can hear you."
Kael smiled.
"Excellent."
Seraphine, standing near the door, ignored all of them.
"The rules are simple."
She looked directly at Aarav.
"At midnight, the first alliances are locked."
"If you stand alone, you become prey."
Aarav placed the mask over his face.
The world felt different instantly.
Colder.
Distant.
Good.
He preferred it.
"Then I suppose I should be charming."
Lyra stared at him.
"That sounds like a threat."
"It probably is."
For the first time that night, she smiled.
A small one.
But real.
And for a moment, the war outside almost disappeared.
Almost.
The Hall of Mirrors served as the banquet chamber.
It was even larger than the Hall of Legacy.
Every wall was made of reflective crystal, turning every guest into a hundred versions of themselves.
Music drifted softly through the air.
Nobles.
Heirs.
Rulers.
Political predators disguised as elegant people.
Every guest wore a mask.
Gold.
Silver.
Crimson.
Black.
No identities.
Only instincts.
The moment Aarav entered, he felt it.
Eyes.
Watching.
Measuring.
Hunting.
Kael's voice echoed quietly.
"Welcome to the first battlefield."
Lyra walked beside him for exactly ten steps.
Then stopped.
"We shouldn't stay together too long."
Aarav nodded.
"Too obvious."
She lowered her voice.
"Cassian will test you first."
"And Kaiden?"
She almost smiled.
"He'll probably just punch someone."
Reasonable.
She stepped away into the crowd like moonlight disappearing into fog.
And Aarav entered the game alone.
The first person to approach wore a golden fox mask.
Elegant posture.
Careful movements.
Cassian.
Of course.
His voice was warm.
"I was wondering how long it would take before everyone circled the shadow."
Aarav accepted a glass of wine from a passing servant but didn't drink.
"Probably depends on how hungry they are."
Cassian smiled.
"Good answer."
He looked toward the mirrored walls.
"Most people misunderstand alliances."
"They think trust is required."
Aarav replied immediately.
"It isn't."
Cassian nodded.
"Only usefulness."
There it was.
Honesty hidden inside manipulation.
Cassian turned slightly.
"Join Solaris."
A direct offer.
Interesting.
Aarav tilted his head.
"You tried to erase my bloodline."
Cassian's tone never changed.
"And yet here I am offering survival instead."
His golden mask reflected the chandeliers above.
"The world belongs to those who adapt."
Aarav's voice was calm.
"And graves belong to those who trust Solaris."
A pause.
Then Cassian laughed softly.
"I like you."
"That concerns me."
Cassian raised his glass slightly.
"It should."
Then he stepped away.
First knife revealed.
Many more to come.
The second approach came with thunder.
Not literally.
But close.
Kaiden appeared wearing a dark silver wolf mask, somehow managing to look arrogant even anonymously.
He stole food from a passing tray and leaned beside Aarav.
"So."
He bit into an apple.
"Political suffering."
Aarav nodded.
"I preferred when you were trying to stab me."
"Same."
Kaiden looked around the ballroom.
"They all talk too much."
"Also the same."
For a brief moment, silence.
Then Kaiden said quietly,
"Don't trust Cassian."
Aarav glanced at him.
"That sounded almost helpful."
Kaiden shrugged.
"I prefer enemies who fight honestly."
His blue eyes flashed behind the wolf mask.
"Cassian smiles first."
That was somehow more threatening.
Before Aarav could reply, Kaiden added—
"And if anyone kills you before I get a rematch, I'll be offended."
Then he walked away.
Strangely comforting.
In a violent way.
Hours passed.
Conversations.
Half-truths.
Silent threats.
A Frostveil heiress offered information for future debt.
An ironclad prince asked for a combat alliance.
A Verdantis heir tried to recruit him with suspicious enthusiasm.
Every word was a strategy.
Every smile had conditions.
At eleven forty-seven, Aarav finally stepped onto one of the moonlit balconies for air.
The city stretched endlessly below.
Clouds moved like oceans.
For the first time all night—
Silence.
Then a voice behind him.
"You hate parties too."
Lyra.
Still wearing the moon mask.
Still dangerous.
Aarav leaned against the balcony rail.
"I'm beginning to think violence is simpler."
"It usually is."
She stepped beside him.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Lyra said quietly,
"My mother warned me tonight."
Aarav looked at her.
"She said?"
"She said if I stand beside Umbra…"
Her silver eyes reflected the moon.
"I may lose everything."
The wind between them felt colder.
Aarav's voice softened.
"And what did you say?"
Lyra looked directly at him.
"I asked her if she regretted protecting your mother."
Silence.
Then—
"She didn't answer."
Aarav understood.
Sometimes silence was confession.
Sometimes it was guilt.
Sometimes both.
He reached into his coat and took out the moon pendant she had given him.
"I was going to return this after the summit."
Lyra frowned slightly.
"Why?"
A faint smile touched his lips.
"Because if I keep it, people might think I trust you."
For one heartbeat, she looked offended.
Then she stepped closer.
Close enough that the moonlight between them disappeared.
"And do you?"
Her voice was barely above a whisper.
A dangerous question.
A more dangerous answer.
Aarav looked at her.
Not as Bloodmoon.
Not as politics.
Just her.
"Yes."
The word hung between them.
Real.
Unprotected.
Lyra's breath caught slightly.
And then—
The bells rang.
Not ceremonial.
Not elegant.
Emergency bells.
Loud.
Violent.
Every light in the palace flickered red.
Kael's voice exploded in his mind.
"Something breached the lower seals!"
Below the floating city, the clouds split apart.
A massive crimson chain snapped.
Then another.
And another.
The entire Citadel trembled.
Screams erupted inside the ballroom.
The rulers' voices thundered across the palace.
Lord Regent Alistair's power flooded the sky.
"Everyone to defensive positions!"
Far beneath the palace—
Something ancient laughed.
The same voice from the memories.
Cold.
Immortal.
Hungry.
At last…
Aarav's blood froze.
The Eternal Sovereign.
Lyra's face had gone pale.
"It's waking up…"
The clouds below the Citadel turned red.
And from the abyss beneath heaven—
A giant hand of crimson shadow began to rise.
The Banquet of Masks was over.
The real nightmare had arrived.