The hidden Shiriguya Dojo sat high on top of Murk Mountain that reached high into the dark clouds. It was night time so moonlight shined brightly over the village. Reese and Rell walked up the bridge of stone.
"Why does Damian want this guy again?" Rell asked.
Reese kept watch of their surroundings. "Apparently he's one of the deadliest dragon shinobi on the planet. He's been alive two hundred years and he's the youngest to ever lead the Shiriguya clan."
"In other words he's a prodigy," Rell said but then he stopped. "Eyes up, Reese."
Reese smirked at the guards perched on the beams.
Two dragon-masked guards appeared in front of them, blades drawn.
"Is that what the people are saying about me now," Rytisu said emerging from the shadows. His crimson serpent eyes glowed intensely. Three red marks lined his cheeks, forearms and the ends of his long black jagged hair. He stood with his arms crossed, calm and unmoved.
Rell bowed slightly. "Rytisu. We got business with you."
"I know," Rytisu said. "And it's not something I'm sure I can do."
"How do you even know—"
"What your going to say?" Rytisu finishes. He laughs and dismissed his guards with a gesture and led them deeper into the inner hall. A stone chamber shaped like a dragon's rib cage, lit by orange flame.
As the three of them walked Rytisu explained he was a war dragon. Meaning one of his many abilities have temporal properties. He foresaw them coming and their entire conversation.
Reese leaned on a pillar, grin fading into something sharper. "So you know why we're here. Let's cut right to it no reason to butter you up or give you some sales pitch."
Rell stepped forward. "Babylon is moving fast and supply lines are frozen. Some of their people are leaking info. Until they fix it, nothing moves."
Rytisu turns back to them. "I'm not sure how I can help with that."
Reese shrugged. "We don't need help with that. They need a new pipeline."
Rytisu froze in thought. "A pipeline? The Dragon King would never go for that."
Reese opens a briefcase. "I got a billion chips right here for you."
Rell, quieter but firm: "This isn't a request. Damian froze everything until this shakes out. He wants your clan, your land and your security. No excuses."
Rytisu closed his eyes. "Unfortunately for you guys I'm not scared of Damian. If he wants my shit his ass can come take it himself rather than sending two lackeys."
"Look... Damian ain't askin'." Reese stepped closer. "He told me this straight up. You're either with the Skyfathers or in the way. You his boy — so I think you know what happens if you in the way."
Rytisu let the silence sit, fire crackling around them. Then, his eyes met theirs. "I do. But like I said I'm not scared of him so your threats won't work on me. I can't just run his drugs or whatever it is he's doing nowadays through the clan without the Dragon Kings approval. He has reign over all clans in the Dragon Realm."
"Well it sounds to me like the Dragon Kings in the way..." Reese looks around before saying what had to come next. "I've done research on draconic culture. Every dragon lineage is competing for Dragon King. If we can make you Dragon King we remove this obstacle."
"So how do we make that happen?" Rell asks.
"You have to defeat the current Dragon King, Zegon." Rytisu scratches his beard thinking. "And that type of challenge takes time to set up so we can't just barge in there and challenge him."
"Man you know they don't care about no ritual," Reese said.
"Well I can't get everyone in the clan to follow my lead if I just go in disrespecting the Dragon King. Even if I think he's a bitch and I don't like his ass."
"We need to figure out a way to speed up this process then. I'm thinking maybe we need to talk to the Dragon King then. Cut out the middle man," Rell said. "No offense bro."
"Zegon only responds to strength. If the two of you go in there he won't even hear you. In fact he'll just kill you," Rytisu said.
"Listen just come back with us. Nova said she wants me to bring you back to Babylon anyway." Reese stuck out his hand. "I'm sure they'll find a way to make this work. We'll make you dragon king and put enough money in your pocket to last you for as long as you live."
Rytisu smirks. "Fine. I'll go hear what they come up with."
***SPACE***
The battleship cut through slipspace in complete silence.
Blue light washed over armored corridors as soldiers moved with mechanical precision—black alloy plating, glowing visors, rifles magnet-locked to their backs. Some were Talmari shock troopers. Others were battle-mages wrapped in rune-etched armor, sigils faintly humming as they walked. No one spoke unless necessary.
It felt like a coffin designed for war.
Arianna stood near the viewport, arms crossed, watching Earth's star slowly grow brighter ahead. Veyla approached from behind.
"You've been quiet," Veyla said.
Arianna didn't turn. "I've been thinking."
"That's rarely a bad sign."
"When The Arcana peaked into my mind," Arianna said, "she didn't just take information."
Veyla stopped beside her. "Go on."
"There was a tiny crack. It was only a moment but I saw into hers."
Veyla's eyes narrowed slightly in interest. "What did you see?"
"Regret," Arianna said. "Not guilt. Regret. She knows the life she's currently living only ends one of two ways. In prison or dead."
Veyla folded her arms. "You're saying Liza wants out."
"I'm saying she's already halfway gone." Arianna finally turned to face her. "She doesn't believe in the brothers mission anymore."
Veyla remained silent, letting her continue.
"There was someone," Arianna said. "A loved one. Hidden. Far outside Babylon's influence. Another galaxy perhaps where she's protected."
"A liability," Veyla said calmly.
"A leverage point," Arianna corrected. "I heard a name when the connection snapped. Mrs. Jackson. I don't know who she is yet but Liza does. And she cares about this person."
The hum of the ship filled the pause between them.
Veyla stepped closer to the viewport, eyes on the distant planet. "If you're right, then The Arcana is the most dangerous variable in this war."
"And the most valuable," Arianna said. "If she turns on Babylon, she changes everything. She knows their systems. Their rituals. Their contingency plans. And she's strong enough to fight the brothers without being erased instantly."
"Strength isn't enough," Veyla said.
"No," Arianna agreed. "But motivation is."
Veyla studied her for a long moment.
"You're proposing we turn a mass criminal into an ally," she said. "Using someone she loves as pressure."
"I'm proposing we give her a choice," Arianna replied. "Babylon or the freedom she dreams of."
"And if she refuses?"
"Then she'll go down with the rest," Arianna said. "And we plan accordingly. If she can't pick herself over them she'll end up just like them."
Veyla exhaled slowly.
"Full immunity," she said.
Arianna blinked. "What?"
"If Liza cooperates," Veyla continued, voice steady, "she gets full immunity. All crimes. Past, present, undocumented. A clean slate. New identity. Her loved one relocated and protected under Talmari seal."
Arianna searched her face. "You'd really offer that?"
"Yes," Veyla said without hesitation. "Because if she defects, Babylon loses more than a soldier. They lose their Arcana. And the brothers lose a pillar they didn't even realize was load-bearing."
"That's risky," Arianna said.
Veyla's lips twitched faintly. "Everything about fighting gods is risky."
She turned toward a passing squad of armored soldiers. One of them glanced at Arianna as they walked by—recognition, respect, curiosity. The ship already knew who she was.
"We'll run a background sweep on Mrs. Jackson," Veyla continued. "Every database. Every erased archive. If Liza hid her, she hid her well. Which means finding her will hurt."
"And if Liza realizes we know?"
"Then she'll panic," Veyla said. "And people who panic make mistakes."
Arianna nodded slowly. "You trust my judgment?"
Veyla met her eyes. "I trust your instincts. I don't trust the outcome."
A beat.
The ship shuddered slightly as Earth's gravity well began to pull at them.
Veyla turned back toward the command deck. "I know we've come this far but I'm thinking a direct assault is probably not the best idea currently. I'm pulling us back for now. If we're gonna run your play we need to do it right. Let's find Mrs. Jackson and turn The Arcana to our side of the battlefield."
***PLANET EARTH***
Babylon's upper command chamber sat quiet but not calm. Dim gold sigils hovered in the air, cycling through threat maps, internal reports, casualty forecasts. Nova stood at the center table, one hand braced on the surface, the other flicking data away with sharp gestures.
Liza approached her from behind smacking her butt. "Guess who just got the information we needed and killed the bad guy?"
"Torvez are you flirting with me?" Nova turns around giggling into a smirk. "Do tell?"
Reese and Rell stepped in interrupting them.
Rytisu followed.
The room acknowledged him before anyone spoke.
Nova didn't look up. "...You're late."
Reese shrugged. "Had to climb a magic mountain that sent us to the bottom every time we entered the wrong sigil code."
"And there was four of them," Rell added. "Not like we got sent back to a single check point either. Like the one before. It sent us all the way to the bottom."
Everyone looks at Rytisu.
"What? Can't ever be to secure." Rytisu chuckles.
Nova finally glanced over. Her eyes landed on Rytisu immediately. "Huh. You actually came."
Rytisu raised a brow. "You don't seem shocked."
"I told Reese before he left you'd say yes," Nova replied flatly, turning back to the table. "You seem like the kinda guy who acts when the math favors you."
Rytisu smirked faintly. "Running probabilities instead of people, I see."
Liza walks over to him reaching out to shake his hand. "Nice to finally meet you in person."
Nova felt a tick in her mind.
Damn girl.
Told ya bitch, Nova thought back with a hint of a smile. Look at those arms.
You better. Liza walks back over to her. Speaking from experience bitch—those dragon ninjas have stamina. So you can do that literally.
Nova giggles. I heard you and Damian the night after we raided Heimland.
Rell crossed his arms. "So... introductions?"
Nova waved a hand dismissively. "Unnecessary. We already know he has ego issues and mild authority problems. Of course he'd take us up on our offer to make him his own boss."
Rytisu glanced between them. "Then I assume you already know why I'm here."
Liza opened her eyes. "Took it from your memory when I touched your hand. The answers no."
Reese frowned. "What does that mean?"
"It means," Liza continued calmly, "that the problem exists... but not for us."
Nova nodded. "Exactly."
Rell stepped forward. "Hold on. Babylon's supply lines are frozen. I thought Damian wants this handled fast."
"And it will be," Nova said. "By you."
Reese blinked. "Us?"
Nova turned fully now, expression sharp. "Reese, half our internal security is compromised, we've got two factions trying to gang bang us—and both groups have weapons capable of killing vampires." She pointed at the air. "That problem matters." Then she pointed at Rytisu. "While it is important we keep the business running that problem was delegated to your asses. While we handle the big problems we need the Grave Diggers to step up. I trust you Reese, so get it done."
Rytisu's eyes narrowed slightly. "So we're going to have to wait to challenge him then."
Liza steps forward.
Everyone looked at her.
"This path ends one of two ways," Liza said. "Either Rytisu becomes Dragon King... or Zegon dies trying to stay one."
Rytisu studied her. "You're serious."
"Sometimes we got to do whatever it takes regardless of how we feel," Liza replied, painful as it was for her to say.
Damian's words stuck with her. This is war and while she does plan to leave Babylon this is where she is currently resides. In this game if you are not all in you will surely die if you don't take the necessary precautions to stay alive.
Liza continues. "In other words a founder shouldn't have to be present for it to resolve."
Reese sighed.
Nova smiled thinly. "Go be useful boys."
Rell scoffed. "That's cold."
"What if Zegon refuses?" Rytisu asked. "Nobody's going to follow me if I just walk in and kill him."
Nova's smile widened—just a little. "Then take him off the board. I don't really care. We can make the make the others follow you out of fear but first let's do it quietly and the right way. We don't need more enemies. Especially dragons."
Silence.
"Don't overthink it," Liza said softly. Now next to Reese and Rell. "Make it feel unavoidable."
Reese nodded slowly. "Got it."
Rell cracked his knuckles. "Guess we're making a king."
Nova was already turning away.
"Or clearing the board," she said. "Either works."
Rytisu watched them—both already moving on, already done with him.
"...You're all dangerous," he muttered.
Liza glanced back once. A faint smile. "We know."
Nova didn't even look back.
"Get it done," she said. "We've got bigger fires to put out."
The doors sealed shut behind Reese, Rell, and Rytisu.
And just like that—the burden was theirs.
***Sovereign of Aurelion***
Brianna Hayes moved through her private study, the heavy curtains drawn to keep the city lights from intruding. Every object in the room had its place: books meticulously arranged by subject, artifacts she had collected from far-flung places, vials of alchemical compounds lined in precise formation.
A knock at the door shattered the silence. Brianna stiffened, instinctively alert. Visitors were infrequent, and unexpected ones were almost unheard of.
"Enter," she said, voice calm.
The door opened, revealing a man she did not know. Tall, impeccably dressed, with eyes that gleamed with calculation. He carried himself like someone accustomed to power. Even before he spoke, Brianna could sense it: the subtle currents of magic beneath his presence.
"Queen Hayes," he said smoothly, bowing slightly. "My name is Malik Sayegh. I trust I am not intruding?"
Brianna's brow arched. Malik Sayegh. The name meant nothing to her. And yet, the authority in his presence, the subtle pull in the air—it marked him as more than a simple emissary or bureaucrat. She could feel the weight of his eyes, scanning for cracks, patterns, vulnerabilities.
"I... don't believe we've met," she said cautiously, straightening her posture. "May I ask the purpose of your visit?"
"I am here regarding Babylon," Malik replied stepping forward. "Certain transactions, associations, and individuals of interest."
Her eyes narrowed. "Babylon?" she echoed. Her tone was calm, but a flicker of suspicion crossed her mind. "I have no true connection to Babylon. I've... observed them from afar, nothing more. I make no alliances with such chaos."
Malik's gaze sharpened, though his expression remained composed. "Even observation can leave traces, Queen Hayes. Even minimal contact can be dangerous." He stepped forward slightly, letting the air between them thicken. "I am here to ask questions. To clarify truths that might otherwise remain hidden. For your safety, and theirs."
Brianna took a deliberate step back, though she remained unshaken. She could feel his magic probing—threads weaving through the air, small enchantments testing her reactions, assessing her honesty. Her mind raced, cataloging the subtle hints. He was not just a man; but a trap in human form.
"I assure you," she said, voice steady, "my dealings are strictly limited, transactional at most, and entirely above board. I have no personal stake in Babylon's... activities. Any claim otherwise is rumor and exaggeration."
He let the words hang, his eyes scanning her for the slightest tell. "Rumor is often where truth hides," he said softly. "A single lie, carefully told, can protect you—or betray you. And I am trained to find them."
Brianna's gaze flicked to the crystal decanter on her desk. A subtle surge of her own energy pulsed beneath her skin, ready to reinforce her defenses. She would not let him unsettle her. "I am careful with truth," she said. "And careful with lies. You would do well to remember that caution cuts both ways."
Malik tilted his head slightly, as if amused. "Caution is wise. But it can also be a cage. You must understand the stakes, Queen Hayes. Babylon is under investigation. Their influence reaches far. And even tangential connections—those who trade with them, converse with them, observe them—can find themselves ensnared."
Brianna's mind worked quickly. She was caught off guard—she had no prior knowledge of this man, no preparation for his tactics. Yet her instincts were sharp, honed by years of managing her own empire and its delicate politics. "I am not of Babylon," she said smoothly. "I do not answer to them. I do not represent them. Any appearance otherwise is... unfortunate coincidence."
Malik gave a faint smile. "Coincidences are interesting, aren't they? So often, they are not coincidental at all. That is why I am here. To determine if there is substance beneath the perception." He extended a hand, not threatening, but with a subtle weight of magical command. A thin, glowing script wove around his fingers, faint enough that only someone sensitive to magical currents could notice. He was probing, seeing what truths would react under scrutiny.
Brianna felt it, subtle but undeniable. A surge of energy, threads tugging at her defenses, seeking the parts of her that could betray her. Her fingers twitched near the edge of the desk, and a quiet pulse of counter-energy radiated from her, masking her intentions. She would not let him know how fully he had penetrated the room, or how easily he could see into her.
"You rely on magic to manipulate truth," she said lightly, almost conversational, testing his reaction. "A clever trick, though one that can be... countered."
He paused, acknowledging her awareness. "I admire perceptiveness," he said. "But awareness is only the first step. Truth requires acknowledgment, and acknowledgment often requires... cooperation."
Brianna tilted her head, studying him carefully. Every movement, every phrase, was a test. She could feel the air vibrating with tension, the room itself a stage for a duel neither of them would admit was beginning. "Cooperation is... a two-way street," she said. "I do not intend to be drawn into games that are not mine to play."
Malik's eyes narrowed, though the smile remained. "We shall see, Queen Hayes. This is only the beginning. Clarity will come, whether willingly or... otherwise." He straightened, letting the magical threads retract subtly, but the weight of his presence lingered. "I suspect our paths will cross again."
Brianna nods her head, her expression polite—but inside, her thoughts raced. This man was dangerous, powerful and intelligent. He had the ability to see through deception, manipulate truth, and exploit weakness. And yet, she had remained standing, unbroken, untouchable—for now.
"I look forward to it," she said, voice steady. "Though I suspect the advantage will remain mine."
Malik gave a subtle nod, turned, and left, the door closing behind him. The room fell silent once more. Brianna's hands flexed slightly. She had survived the encounter. But she knew this was the first ripple in a storm that would touch her empire, her decisions, and perhaps even her life.
And for the first time, Brianna Hayes allowed herself a fraction of consideration: this Malik Sayegh was not just another bureaucrat. He would not forget. And neither would she. She had to wonder now, what has Babylon gotten themselves into that they hadn't communicated with her. Such actions require retaliation. But only in time.
***
Malik stepped into the back seat of the transport as the palace gates sealed behind him. The city lights streaked across the reinforced glass. His expression remained neutral, but his mind was already replaying Brianna Hayes' posture, her cadence, the way she guarded truth without ever stating it.
She was not Babylon.
But she was adjacent enough to matter. Definitely connected.
The vehicle had barely lifted when his communicator chimed.
He answered immediately.
"Malik," Veyla's voice came through, calm, precise, unhurried. "Status."
Malik sighed. "She was defensive, but composed. As expected though. She denied substantive ties to Babylon outright. If she's lying, she's practiced. If she's telling the truth, she's insulated by design."
"Good," Veyla said. "Then she remains a variable, not a target."
A brief pause followed. Malik sensed the shift—the moment where a conversation stopped being a debrief and became a directive.
"I need you redirected," Veyla continued. "We're pivoting strategies."
Malik's eyes narrowed slightly. "Why? I know Queen Hayes is involved and it's only a matter of time before she cracks."
"You're our best closer. What I'm about to share could change the very nature of the war against Babylon," Veyla said. "I'm moving you from the background to front lines. We have new information on The Arcana."
That earned his full attention.
"I'm listening," Malik said.
"The Arcana has someone she believes the system can't reach," Veyla replied.
Malik leaned back, fingers interlacing. "You've found leverage."
"We've confirmed its existence," Veyla said. "Arianna survived an encounter with The Arcana and was able to briefly peak into her mind."
There was movement on the line—voices, boots, the low hum of a warship in motion.
Veyla continued. "She knows how her story ends if she stays with Babylon. She regrets a lot of the things she's done with them."
Malik absorbed that silently.
"And?" he prompted. "I'm not seeing any leverage here."
"There's a person hidden far from Babylon's reach. Someone Liza cares about deeply."
She let that sit before delivering the name.
"Mrs. Jackson."
Malik's gaze hardened. "Sounds like those silver song agents are working in your favor."
"That's the name Arianna heard before the connection severed. Whoever she is, Liza has gone to great lengths to keep her outside Babylon's reach."
Malik exhaled slowly. "Sounds like she's valuable."
"Yes," Veyla said. "And you're going to pay her a visit."
Malik straightened slightly. "With what authority?"
"With mine," Veyla answered. "And the Talmari Justice System's seal."
Another pause—longer this time.
"Arianna will be going with you but you're to run point," Veyla added. "This is not an arrest. Not an interrogation. You are not to threaten her."
"That limits my usual toolkit," Malik said dryly.
"Then improvise," Veyla replied without apology. "Your role is not to break her. It's to frame reality."
Malik understood immediately.
Mrs. Jackson wasn't the target.
She was the bridge.
"You want her cooperation," he said. "Voluntary."
"I want her to understand the stakes," Veyla said. "Liza's position. Babylon's trajectory. And what happens to good people standing too close to dangerous people."
"And what do I offer in return?" Malik asked.
Veyla didn't hesitate.
"Protection," she said. "Relocation. Immunity. Talmari custody under sealed classification. A life Babylon can't reach."
Malik nodded once. "And Liza?"
"If Liza defects," Veyla said, "she gets full immunity. Every crime. Every undocumented action. New identity. Her loved one disappears into a system even the Skyfathers can't touch."
Malik sighed. "That's... generous."
"It's strategic," Veyla corrected. "If The Arcana turns, Babylon loses their most powerful sorceress. They lose insight. Ritual knowledge. Contingencies. She knows how the brothers think."
"And if she refuses?" Malik asked.
"Then we burn the bridge," Veyla said calmly. "And let Babylon collapse with her still on it."
The transport tilted as it shifted course.
Malik stared out the window, already assembling the approach in his mind—not legal threats, not coercion, but inevitability.
Mrs. Jackson wouldn't be scared.
She would be cornered by truth.
"I'll handle it," he said finally. "Carefully."
"I expect nothing less," Veyla replied. "I'm counting on you. This situation is delicate. Close the deal."
"Done," Malik finished.
He remained still as the transport accelerated, his reflection faint in the glass.
Brianna Hayes had been a warned.
Mrs. Jackson would be an opening to larger fracture in their enemy.
And Liza—the Arcana—was the pressure point that could break Babylon from the inside.