A third man burst in, breathless. "He's gone! One escape craft is missing!"
The crew stared at each other, realization dawning like a curse. They hadn't signed up to die not like this.
"We surrender," one said.
"Agreed," another echoed.
But fate had other plans. A tremor shook the ship followed by a scream. From the hold, a blast tore through the hull memory-reactive crystals, improperly sealed, had ruptured under stress.
The volatile compounds fed into the fuel lines, igniting a chain reaction that defied physics and mercy.
A cosmic-size explosion bloomed. The pirate warship vanished in a burst of violet and gold, and the shockwave engulfed SS-Venus before its shields could fully deploy. The bridge lights flickered. Systems screamed.
For a split second, Seraphyne saw it. Not just the flare of detonation, but the truth behind it, the unmistakable shimmer of memory-reactive crystal igniting in full cascade. This wasn't millions worth of memory-reactive crystals but billions.
Enough to rewrite the psychic lattice of a planet. Enough to fracture time itself.
Her voice rang out, sharp and commanding "Activate triple defense shield!" But it was already too late.
The explosion tore through SS-Venus like divine judgment. The warship, once the pride of Virelia's fleet, was consumed in an instant, its hull shredded, its impenetrable frame reduced to drifting embers. The blast wave rippled through the asteroid field, scattering debris like cosmic ash.
Seraphyne had tried to flee. Vigilant Thorn surged forward, wings flaring, but the shockwave caught her mid-flight. The mech twisted violently, its shielding buckling under the force. Then came the silence.
Space returned to calm, but it was the kind of calm that follows a scream too vast to hear.
The SS-Venus was shattered into three jagged pieces, each one flickering with residual flame. The bridge was gone. The shrine of the Hollow Sun obliterated. There were no survivors and no signals. Just wreckage drifting like funeral offerings.
The pirate warship had fared worse. There were no scraps. It had been erased like it never existed.
Vigilant Thorn floated slowly, torn in half. Its limbs dangled, severed cables trailing like veins.
"The cockpit was wrecked, its outer shell torn apart like something that was meant to protect but didn't.
Inside, there was no movement. But then... a small white light began to blink. It was soft, steady and rhythmic, pulsing like a heartbeat.
***
Jian Rui's breath caught as his eyes snapped open, the image of the SS Venus its hull split, its sanctum ablaze seared into his waking mind. Everyday he had relived the most tragic accident in the history of Virelia in simulated reality. And each day the torment grew stronger reminding him why he was doing this.
His adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, palms slick with sweat. The scent of ash still clung to his memory, phantom-like. He clenched his fist, knuckles whitening, and turned his gaze toward the High Celestial Court.
They convened beneath the vaulted dome of the Sanctum of Flame and Memory, a chamber carved from marble veined with gold and sorrow. The ceiling shimmered with constellations long erased by war, each star a memorial, each flicker a name lost.
Twelve thrones formed a circle around the central dais, where the sigil of the Hollow Sun pulsed faintly. Its dying light cast long shadows, a reminder that the war's final breath had not been peace, but silence.
But today, silence was a stranger. "This is treason by neglect!" thundered Archon Virel-Morne, his voice reverberating like a fault line splitting. His ceremonial robes flared with heat-reactive flame, casting his face in flickering rage. The sigil of the Ember Crown blazed on his chest, its edges fraying with fury.
"Three outposts razed in a week," he roared, "and you sit here debating protocol!"
Lady Thessa Virel rose from her throne, her movements sharp, deliberate. Her sigil, a silver blade entwined with a mourning lily, flared in protest.
"Because protocol is what separates us from the Calamity dogs!" she snapped, her voice slicing through the chamber like tempered steel. "You want retaliation? Fine. But do it through the Mandate, not through tantrums!"
"Tantrums?" Morne spat, his voice a furnace of grief. "Your planet hasn't bled yet. Mine has. I buried my son beneath a sky carved by pirate fire!"
The words struck like a hammer against the chamber's brittle decorum. Across the sanctum, Lord Halrix of the Eastern Flame surged to his feet, his fist slamming into the armrest of his throne. The embedded crystal shattered with a shriek of light, shards scattering like broken oaths.
"Enough!" he roared, his voice a flare of volcanic fury. "We are the High Court, not a pack of mourning wolves!"
"Then act like it!" Senator Kael-Ren shouted, rising from the observer's circle, his robes trailing the scent of scorched parchment. "The Calamity Alliance is not hiding anymore they are hunting. And we're the prey!"
The chamber erupted and voices clashed like blades unsheathed. Accusations and insults flew back and forth with no restraint.
"Coward!"
"Traitor!"
"Bloodless wretch!"
A noble hurled a goblet across the chamber. It spun through the air, a gleaming arc of defiance, and shattered against the central dais. Ceremonial wine splashed across the sigil of the Hollow Sun, staining its pale gold with crimson.
Jian Rui did not flinch.
He had been standing behind his father's throne for five hours, a silent sentinel among the five adult Espers summoned by imperial decree.
His half siblings shifted restlessly nearby each a vessel of power, each bound by duty. But Jian felt only weariness.
This was not strategy, it was comic theater and a waste of his time. He would rather be somewhere else making great use of his time but he was forced to stand here and watch the so-called pillars of Virelia hurl insults at each other. How pathetic.