Brenda's shot broke the jungle.
A sacred roar, a roar of defiance.
The energy bullet crossed the distance in a breath, aimed straight at Godric Fitzgerald's chest.
But Godric didn't flinch.
Didn't even blink.
Before him, a nanotechnology shield formed instantly. Titanochrome particles wove a mural of pure energy that absorbed the impact with a muffled explosion.
From Brenda's smoking barrel rose a column of heat, while she murmured, with firm and satisfied voice:
"Just as I thought."
But Eldar was no longer at her side.
In a blink, he had vanished.
Suddenly, from the ground itself, two colossal hands emerged, like claws of living earth. They seized Godric's legs brutally, pulling him downward.
Godric's brow barely furrowed. Without losing composure, his hand tensed. Sharp energy sprouted from his palm, forming a spear of pure compressed light, ready to pierce what held him.
But then, the thunder arrived.
A rumble much deeper than the previous shot.
A roar of steel, explosion, and tempest.
Godric turned his face, barely in time to see the impossible.
Brenda, standing on Fenrir's back, held an energy bazooka on her shoulder.
Her expression was cold, serene, determined.
Her finger squeezed the trigger without blinking.
"It's all yours, Eldar…" she murmured.
Before Godric could react, before the spear could free him, Eldar shouted:
"I've got hiiiiim!"
And dragged him toward the earth's jaws.
Godric, for the first time, showed something resembling surprise.
The bazooka blast hit full force.
The explosion illuminated the jungle like a shooting star burning in the night.
When smoke covered the scene, the ground trembled beneath everyone's feet.
In the Celestial Gardens, from the nobility sector, near the gigantic screen projecting the maddened jungle, the Fitzgeralds remained motionless, like frozen marble statues before the tragedy and scandal unfolding before their eyes. Aurelius had already left, leaving the space charged with silence and tension.
Catherine Fitzgerald broke the muteness, her sharp voice cutting the air:
"Brenda… is a rebel. She won't speak to me, her own mother, and now she attacks her own brother, the Fitzgerald house heir. What the hell does she think she is? She must be reprimanded for this disrespect."
Beatriz, more softly, watched with her gaze fixed on the screen:
"How sad to see this. I remember they used to get along so well… but apparently they haven't spoken for many years. Godric used to be such a sweet and kind child… But now he always seems serious and angry, though his gaze is rather sad. I remember he loved Sofia very much."
Catherine narrowed her eyes, with contempt:
"Good thing he learned not to mix with that bastard. It was bad for his image."
Lucien, trembling, intervened with a thread of voice:
"Catherine… don't say those things anymore, do you want Commander Aurelius to execute us right here?"
Edward took a deep breath, remembering:
"I remember Brenda and Sofia were always together… they loved each other very much, they were happy. And Godric always protected them like his most precious treasure. But Brenda hates Catherine and me, us, her parents, for expelling Sofia from Fitzgerald territory. And rightfully so—we exiled Sofia from Surthelia when she was a small child. I was a coward to allow it. She also hates Godric… for making people repudiate her."
Beatriz lowered her gaze, sadly. Her words emerged like a whisper barely grazing the room's silence:
"Yes, I remember when they were children, Godric always took care of Brenda, but especially Sofia."
Edward, with an annoyed tone, murmured:
"Catherine, you brainwashed Godric when he was an innocent child… that destroyed Sofia, Brenda, and above all, Godric. You don't know the damage you did to your children. The worst part is that I allowed it."
Catherine frowned, with hardness, as if defending a divine decree:
"If you hadn't had that bastard, none of this would have happened. Our children would be happy and love each other like siblings."
Edward, with a voice laden with regret, replied:
"But Sofia was also their sister… and the way the family treated her is something Brenda can never forgive."
Beatriz listened, with a shrunken heart, to Edward's every word. She knew too well how much those wounds hurt Brenda; she knew how her soul had been marked by the family—she knew this because she had been there for Brenda more than her own mother. Edward looked at her with gratitude and firmness:
"Brenda is never home… and Beatriz, I thank you for always being there for her. Thank you for being a good person… thank you for your kindness… thank you for being like a mother to her."
The words made Beatriz blush, a flush that didn't go unnoticed by Catherine, whose expression turned into a mixture of annoyance and disdain.
Lucien barely participated in the conversation. His mind was trapped between worry and fear; Aurelius had warned him that, at the exam's end, he would cut off his hands for having struck his wife. Each word exchanged between Catherine, Edward, and Beatriz barely reached him, while his heart beat with a mixture of rage and terror at what could happen.
For an instant, the noble sector was plunged into absolute silence, while the screen continued projecting the battle in Amazonia. Every movement of Brenda and Godric, every flash of energy, felt like an unappealing judgment on their own blood and entire generations' mistakes.
Meanwhile, on the other side of Amazonia's green hell, Kraven still stood erect like a mountain, his hand closed around Makia's neck.
Thorgar Blooddrake, with his giant steps, stopped Amazonia's advance like a living wall, crushing roots and beasts alike.
But something changed.
Kraven suddenly felt his body become heavy, dense, as if a million invisible chains had entangled him.
His fingers opened involuntarily, and Makia fell—though she could barely move, barely breathe.
Kraven raised his gaze, disconcerted.
"Don't tell me… Alistair?"
No.
From above, like a god descending to execute sentence, Aelius Bekkart floated.
His face was a mask of contained fury, and his eyes, normally soft, burned with the cold light of a sky at war.
The air around him crackled.
The world trembled.
"Don't put your filthy hands on my sister," Aelius whispered.
And then he arrived.
A second energy, burning, savage, blue as a star's core.
Kael.
The outcast.
Wrapped in compressed fire, Kael appeared among the undergrowth like a comet tearing through night, his fury a living torch.
"KRAVEEEEEN!" he shouted, his voice a roar that shook trees and souls alike.
Hell had just awakened.
And for the first time in Amazonia, the Empire's colossi felt that the ground they stood on… could split beneath them.