The Everglow Palace was a monument to human vanity, a towering spire of obsidian and gold designed to make the masses look up in awe. It stood as the heart of the Human Empire, a symbol of absolute authority and unshakeable power.
But true power did not live in the towers. It lived in the shadows.
Behind the Grand Hall, hidden behind a garden of black roses that were poisonous to the touch, stood a small, unassuming structure. It looked like a simple wooden cabin, ancient and weathering, the kind a hermit might build in the woods to escape the world. It had no guards. It had no visible wards. To a passerby, it was nothing more than a tool shed or a forgotten relic of the old world.
But as Emperor Thorn and Emperor Kael approached it, the two most powerful men in the human world slowed their steps.
Their faces, usually masks of arrogance and command, were pale. Their hands, which could crush boulders or weave city-destroying spells, were trembling slightly.
"Do we have to tell them everything?" Thorn whispered, his voice uncharacteristically small. He adjusted his collar, sweating despite the cool night air. The massive warlord looked like a child called to the headmaster's office.
"We cannot lie to them, Thorn," Kael hissed, pushing his glasses up his nose and putting a square shaped jade piece into his pockets, It is the object that lets them see through the barrier Veiling this cabin.
"They can taste deceit. If we lie, they will strip the flesh from our bones and give our thrones to our cousins."
"Lucius can taste deceit on the tongue. If we lie, they will strip the flesh from our bones and give our thrones to our cousins by sunrise."
"I hate this place," Thorn grumbled, but he kept walking. "It smells like the grave."
"It is the grave," Kael muttered.
Kael reached out and knocked on the wooden door.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
There was no answer. Just a sudden, bone-deep drop in temperature. The frost spread from the door handle, coating the rotting wood in white ice. The black roses nearby wilted instantly, their life force sucked away to fuel the opening mechanism.
The door creaked open on its own, revealing a darkness that seemed to swallow the light of the moons.
"Enter," a voice croaked. It sounded like three people speaking at once, a man, a woman, and something in between.
The two Emperors stepped inside.
The interior was not a cabin. The wooden exterior was merely a shell, a spatial anchor for a pocket dimension that existed outside of normal reality.
Inside, they stood in a vast, circular crypt made of gray bone. The walls were lined with skulls, thousands of them, staring inward with hollow eyes. The air was thick with the smell of incense, formaldehyde, and ancient, stagnant mana that tasted like copper on the tongue.
In the center of the room sat three thrones raised on a dais of spinal columns.
On the left sat Ancestor Titus. He was a withered husk of a man, his skin pulled tight over his skull like parchment. He wore armor that had fused with his body over the millennia, the metal rusting into his flesh until man and steel were one. He radiated an aura of pure, violent bloodshed, the ghost of a million wars clinging to him.
On the right sat Ancestor Lucius. He looked younger than Titus, preserved by forbidden alchemy, but his face was a horror show. His eyes were sewn shut with silver thread. He saw not with sight, but through the floating, purple crystal ball hovering above his palm. He was the master of secrets, spies, and dark magic.
And in the center sat Ancestor Augusta,
She was the oldest. She was barely human anymore, a creature of skin and wire, hooked up to glass tubes that pumped a glowing green fluid into her veins to keep her heart beating. Her eyes were milky white, blind with age, yet they pinned the Emperors in place with the weight of a collapsing star.
These were the Three Pillars. The true rulers of humanity. Beings at the Peak of the Constellation Realm who had refused to die for three thousand years.
"Kneel," Augusta whispered. Her voice was a wheeze, wet and weak, yet it carried absolute command.
Thorn and Kael dropped to their knees instantly, their heads bowing to the cold stone floor.
"We... we greet the Ancestors," Kael stammered.
"Spare us the pleasantries," Titus growled, his voice sounding like grinding gears. "We felt the disturbance. The Armory was breached. A Rank-S artifact was stolen. And the Void Vessel... is gone."
Titus slammed his metal fist onto the armrest of his throne. The entire pocket dimension shook. Dust fell from the ceiling of ribs.
"How?" Titus roared. "How did two Solar Realm Emperors let a cripple and two children escape from the most secure fortress in history?"
"He... he is not a cripple, Ancestor," Thorn said, daring to look up slightly, his voice shaking. "The Void Vessel... Nyx... he eats mana. He devoured the Suppression Wards. He broke through the load-bearing wall with a physical strength that rivals a Dragon."
"Excuses!" Titus stood up. His aura crashed down on them like a physical hammer. Thorn grunted, forced flat against the floor by the sheer pressure. The floor tiles cracked beneath his knees. "You are incompetent! We gave you the resources. We gave you the authority. And you let the most valuable asset in the universe walk out the back door!"
"Peace, Titus," Lucius said softly.
The blind Ancestor turned his head toward Kael. The crystal ball in his hand swirled with dark smoke.
"The Asset is gone. That is unfortunate. But he can be retrieved. What concerns me more... is the treason."
Lucius tapped his crystal ball. An image flickered inside it, a hazy, magical replay of the Palace Wards being paused.
"The Wards were deactivated," Lucius said, his voice silky and dangerous. "For three seconds. Just enough time for an assassin to enter. Or for a path to be cleared for an escape."
Kael swallowed hard. His heart hammered against his ribs. "It... it was a glitch, Ancestor. A malfunction in the-"
"Do not lie to me, boy," Lucius warned. "I can hear your heart racing. I can smell the cortisol in your sweat. The Wards did not glitch. Someone used a Key."
Augusta leaned forward. The tubes connected to her hissed as the green fluid pumped faster.
"Which one of you was it?" Augusta asked. "Or... was it Her?"
The room went deadly silent.
"Seraphina," Augusta whispered the name like a curse. "Did she help them?"
"It was not her," Kael lied quickly, desperation creeping into his voice. "She... she was distraught. The Charm of the Void Vessel compromised her emotional stability. She wanted to keep him for herself. She did not aid his escape."
"Did she?" Augusta's milky eyes narrowed. "Or did she finally realize what she is?"
Augusta pointed a withered finger at the two kneeling Emperors.
"How is my Vessel coming along? Has she reached the peak of the Solar Realm yet?"
"She... she is close, Ancestor," Thorn said, sweat dripping from his nose onto the stone. "Her cultivation speed is unprecedented. She is a genius. She reached the Intermediate Solar stage last month."
"She is not a genius," Augusta spat. "She is a product. We bred her. We engineered her bloodline for ten generations to produce a body capable of carrying my dream."
The truth hung in the air, ugly and cold.
Seraphina Everglow wasn't just an Empress. She wasn't a prodigy who rose from nothing, It was all a facade to cover up the monstrosities they commited. She was a lab rat. A container being prepared for something else.
Augusta looked at her own withered hands.
"My body is failing," Augusta rasped. "The green fluid... it only delays the inevitable. I need a new shell. A shell that can handle my Constellation soul without burning out. Seraphina was created for this purpose. She is my future skin."
"She is becoming unruly," Lucius noted, looking at the crystal ball. "Her attachment to your daughters.... it was a flaw. We allowed it because it kept her docile. It gave her something to protect. But now the daughters are gone."
"If she breaks," Titus threatened, sitting back down, his armor clanking. "If she turns on us... you two will be the first to die. Do you understand?"
"We understand," Kael and Thorn said in unison, their voices trembling.
"Good," Augusta settled back into her throne, closing her eyes. "The Tournament begins in a few weeks again. The Void Vessel will be there. The Dragons will be there. Even the that thing under our continent is getting impatient."
She looked at Kael.
"Retrieve the Void Vessel. Alive. We need his consciousness to complete the possession ritual. Without his energy, the transfer of my soul to Seraphina's body has a 40% chance of failure. I do not like those odds."
She looked at Thorn.
"And keep a leash on Seraphina. If she tries to run... if she tries to follow those brats... break her legs."
Thorn flinched violently. "Ancestor... she is the Empress. The public loves her. If I cripple her-"
"She is my property!" Augusta screamed, her voice echoing with terrifying power, cracking the bone walls of the crypt. "If she gets out of the cage your heads will be gone from your necks. Do not let her leave your sight! If you have to chain her to her throne, do it!"
"Yes, Ancestor," Thorn whispered, his face gray.
"Get out," Titus commanded, waving his hand. "You smell of failure. Do not return without the boy."
Thorn and Kael scrambled to their feet. They bowed hastily and backed out of the room, terrified to turn their backs on the monsters on the thrones.
The door to the cabin slammed shut, sealing the ancient evil back inside.
Outside, in the garden of black roses, the two Emperors stood in the moonlight, gasping for air as if they had just surfaced from drowning.
Thorn wiped the sweat from his face. His hands were shaking uncontrollably. He looked at the cabin with pure hatred.
"They are getting impatient," Thorn muttered, spitting on the ground. "Augusta... she looks like she's barely holding on. She wants Seraphina's body soon. Maybe before the year ends."
"We cannot let them take her yet," Kael said, cleaning his glasses with a trembling hand. "If they possess Seraphina... we lose our leverage. Augusta will return to her prime. She will rule for another thousand years. We become obsolete. Disposable."
"So what do we do?" Thorn growled, pacing the garden path. "We can't fight them. They are Peak Constellation Realm. We are just Solar. If Titus stands up, he could crush us both with one hand."
Kael looked at the moon. His mind, usually a fortress of logic, was racing.
"We need a variable," Kael said softly. "Something outside their calculations."
"Like what?"
"Like the Void Vessel," Kael said. His eyes turned cold and calculating behind the lenses. "Nyx. He ate the Star-Slayer. He ate the Wards. He ripped through the defenses like they were paper."
Kael looked at the cabin.
"Why do you think Augusta wants him alive? Why does she need him for the ritual? Because he contains energy dense enough to fuel a Constellation transfer."
Kael turned to Thorn.
"If we capture Nyx... if we can figure out how he consumes energy... maybe we don't give him to Augusta."
Thorn stopped pacing. He looked at Kael. A slow, cruel smile spread across his bearded face.
"We use him," Thorn realized. "We weaponize him."
"Exactly," Kael nodded. "If we can control the Void... we can kill the Ancestors. We can take the Empire for ourselves. Truly."
"A weapon to kill our masters," Thorn mused, clenching his fist. "I like it. But Seraphina..."
"Seraphina is the key," Kael said. "We keep her close. We keep her angry. But we don't let her run. We let her think she is trapped. Desperation makes people predictable."
"But first," Kael said, looking toward the West, toward the Sacred Grounds. "We have to catch the boy. Before the Dragons do. Before the other races do."
"Then we deploy the Sun-Legion," Thorn said. "Full mobilization."
"Agreed," Kael said.
The two Emperors walked back toward the palace, plotting treason against their gods, unaware that in the highest tower, another plot was already hatching.
Meanwhile, In the Everglow Spire,
Seraphina sat on her balcony, unaware of the conversation in the garden below. But she felt the chill. The presence of the Ancestors always left a residue on the air, a taste of grave dirt.
She looked at her hands. They were pale, perfect, and strong.
She had always known she was different. She healed too fast. She learned too quickly. Her mana capacity was an ocean compared to the puddles of other mages. Even among royalty, she was an anomaly.
She had always thought it was a blessing.
But tonight, sitting in the empty silence left by Briar and Lyra, she felt the truth deep in her marrow.
She wasn't a ruler. She was livestock. She was a turkey being fattened for Thanksgiving.
She touched the center of her chest.
"They are watching," she whispered to the wind. "Titus. Lucius. Augusta. They think I don't know."
Her brown eyes hardened into diamonds.
"They think I am a product," Seraphina murmured. "They built me to hold a ghost."
She stood up, her crimson dress billowing around her in the night wind. She looked toward the western horizon, where she knew Nyx was heading.
"You can't cage a storm," she said.
She turned back to her room. On her desk lay a letter. It wasn't a military order. It wasn't a decree. It was a personal letter, sealed with her own blood.
She picked it up.
"Nyx," she whispered the name like a prayer and a curse.
"Come back. Come back and burn this house down. Because if you don't..."
She looked at the ceiling, toward the crushing weight of the destiny the Ancestors had planned for her.
"I'm going to have to burn it down with me inside it, Just like I have always been planning to. "
She walked to the window and held the letter out. A white hawk,her personal messenger, landed on her arm. She tied the letter to its leg.
"Find him," Seraphina commanded the bird. "Find the Void. And tell him the Empress is waiting."
The hawk screeched and took flight, disappearing into the night.
Seraphina Everglow, the Ice Empress, the Ruler of the West, sat alone in her tower.
Yearning for freedom, Like she always have but this time she at least have a hope of gaining it.