Damon dropped back down into the courtyard, the shards of glass crunching beneath his heavy boots—a grinding sound of shattered peace. Valora immediately gestured Damon and Cythera into a secluded corner, ensuring the continuing class couldn't overhear the dark undercurrents of their conversation of power.
"What was that overwhelming feeling just now?" Valora asked sharply.
Cythera crossed her arms, analyzing the sensation. "It was… satisfied. Almost complete."
Valora shook her head, her gaze distant and worried. "No. It felt eerie. Like something old just woke up."
Damon exhaled slowly. "It was dangerous. That's all I know."
Valora's expression hardened into a grim mask. "Whatever it was, you tell no one. Not yet. Only the Queen and the Tutors should know this information."
Cythera nodded. "That's the plan."
Valora left quickly to continue her lesson, her mind clearly elsewhere.
Rika approached them then, a deep sense of worry showing beneath her attempt at casual composure. "Long time no see," she said softly.
Damon smiled, finding a short peace in her normalcy. "How's Woewyn treating you?"
"Better than Earth ever did," she shrugged, a spark of defiance in her eyes. "What can I say?"
Cythera gave her a rare, sincere nod. "Good."
Rika's gaze flicked nervously between them, sensing the electric tension. "But… are you two really alright? You both seem—"
Damon placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "We're fine. But you—how did you go from shooting hoops to… this level of power in months?"
Rika managed a genuine laugh. "Tolrex has been training me. Strictly. There are no off-days."
"Good," Damon said, and she smiled, jogging back to her sparring partner.
He turned to Cythera. "Draven said we should meet him at the castle after school. All of us."
Cythera brushed a strand of dark hair behind her ear. "This is our last class. So… soon it is."
After class, they picked up Nyra, keeping their conversation light and acted normal during the drive. Damon folded the massive Aethersprint Runner into its card form, and the three of them—Damon, Cythera, and Nyra—entered the royal court.
Bravira, Varnex, Draven, and Thorpax were already waiting. Queen Thessa sat on the throne, the weight of the universe heavy in the worry shadowed behind her eyes.
Draven motioned for Damon and Cythera to sit. He wore an expression Damon had only seen twice before—brotherly, protective, and strained.
He looked directly at Damon. "Do you remember the woman I told you gave me a nasty scar?"
He lifted his hand, revealing the faint, inkless scar that looked more like a line of pure, faded memory than skin damage.
Damon nodded, a cold sense of dread already creeping in. "Yes."
Draven inhaled slowly, bracing himself.
"…She's back."
Silence descended upon the entire court, thick and crushing, tightening like a noose around every neck in the room.
Cythera's voice was unnaturally quiet. "Who… is she, Draven?"
Draven's jaw tightened. He looked out the window, his gaze distant, as if staring at a painful, beautiful memory.
"Velmira wasn't born a monster," he said, his voice low and wounded. "People forget that."
He folded his arms, his posture steady but his voice and expression were wounded.
"She came from a political house. They were known for pretty lies and prettier smiles. She had one of that. Her eyes—green, made every liar in the room shake. She could see straight through you. It was… annoying."
A ghost of a half-smirk flashed and instantly died on his lips.
"We met on a battlefield. She insulted my footwork and I insulted her mouth. That was… our beginning."
He touched the scar lightly, reverence mixing with regret.
"She gave me this. Said I was getting arrogant." A sharp breath. "I think I loved her from that moment."
He met Damon's stare, the confession hanging heavy in the air.
"And she loved me."
His expression darkened completely.
"But she saw cracks in Woewyn. Things I stubbornly ignored. She wanted change. Freedom. She asked me to join her. Said we could burn the old world down together, and build something better from the ashes."
He shook his head, the betrayal still fresh.
"I loved her. But I couldn't betray what I swore to protect."
A quiet pause.
"So she walked away." Then, softer, more tragically: "Her war is with Woewyn… not with me."
Thorpax shifted uncomfortably. "Brother, what are you saying?"
"You know exactly what I'm saying," Draven replied, his eyes sharp and pained.
Queen Thessa leaned forward, her voice demanding. "Regardless of your feelings—your allegiance is here. Would you watch the world you've helped build fall?"
Draven swallowed hard. "No."
Bravira stepped up, arms crossed, her eyes narrowed in fierce loyalty. "Velmira blinded herself with 'salvation.' She couldn't wait for better rulership. The Queen and King Thalor rose only shortly after her leave."
Before anyone could respond—they all felt it.
A wind. Cold. Calm. An unnerving stillness filled with eerie, absolute resolve. It wasn't just power—it was purpose.
The heavy royal court doors blasted open without being touched.
One footstep.
Draven stood instantly, his composure shattered.
Second footstep.
Damon's fists clenched around his daggers; Cythera summoned twin ice blades that screamed with cold. Bravira's fists lit white with contained fury. Thorpax's stone cracked into sharp rock. Varnex conjured burning spheres of Eterna. Even Nyra was ready, her eyes wide but determined.
Third footstep—
And all of them flashed forward, stopping with their attacks inches from her face.
Velmira.
She stood untouched.
Tall. Lean. Deadly elegant. A black suit clinging to her like a living shadow, veins of neon emerald green Eterna tracing down her curves. Silver-white hair cascading around her, green eyes glowing with chilling clarity. A ring coiled around her finger, ending in a razor point.
Her aura was pure beauty sharpened into danger. The kind you know will kill you, but you still yearn for.
Draven froze—not in fear, but in heartbreak.
His voice cracked, the word barely a sound. "…Velmira."
She winked, a cold, seductive gesture. "You didn't even sense me, Bravira. You're the blind one."
Bravira nearly struck her despite the Queen's presence.
"STOP!" Queen Thessa snapped, the command slicing through the tension.
Everyone withdrew—but slowly, unwillingly.
Nyra noticed the small, brutal scene. "The guards… they're knocked unconscious outside. We didn't even hear her fight them…"
The room went brutally silent.
Velmira stepped forward, hand across her chest, and performed a deep, respectful bow. "Your Majesty."
Queen Thessa nodded—a painful gesture of respect between two titans locked in fate.
Velmira straightened. "I'm here to declare war. Out of respect for the old ways, I speak plainly. Whether you accept it or not… there will be a reckoning. I have my terms. You should have yours."
Varnex growled, summoning a large sphere of fire. "How dare you march in here—"
She turned her head lightly, dismissing him with an almost bored glance. "You still haven't lost that giant belly, Varnex. My victory chances look better already."
Bravira immediately stepped between the Queen and Velmira, eyes burning with protective rage. "Leave. Now."
Velmira smiled thinly. "Only one person in this room truly matters. And it isn't you."
Bravira's fists bled from how tightly she clenched them.
Queen Thessa raised a tired hand. "Enough." She remembered when Velmira used to fight for Woewyn. It was glorious, she thought.
Velmira shifted her predatory gaze to Queen. "I came to the festival to assess the Chosen One. I see now my luck is good. He's still small."
"I'm standing right here," Damon muttered, ready to explode.
Velmira approached him—close enough that he could feel the cold, electric hum of her aura. She gently cupped his face.
Damon froze, his defenses momentarily collapsing, the seductive power of her touch almost making him melt.
Nyra and Bravira yelled at the exact same time, "WAKE UP!"
Damon snapped back, jumping a full step away, heat flooding his face.
Velmira chuckled, a deep, musical sound. "Cute boy. Like Draven."
Her eyes locked with Draven's—heavy, longing, accusing, grieving. A complete narrative of their failed love in a single moment.
Damon broke the tension before Draven could speak. "What are your conditions?"
Velmira looked at him with genuine interest. "One. I don't care how the war plays out. I want to fight Draven."
Draven's breath hitched, the challenge a personal and painful invitation.
Damon stepped forward, seizing the high ground. "Only if the war happens outside Woewyn."
Velmira raised a wicked brow. "Why would I willingly do that?"
"Because you can't rebuild a kingdom with no people," Damon said, his voice flat. "Or with people broken into slaves. You wanted change, not genocide. Right?"
The entire room was silent. Velmira paused for the first time, her green eyes calculating.
"…Wise."
She crossed her arms. "Where?"
Damon shrugged, meeting her gaze. "Eternum's orbit has a planet for a fight."
She laughed softly, shaking her head. "One planet will not contain this war. Draven hasn't shown you his true strength. Nor mine."
"Then use all the planets and moons you need," Damon countered. "But Woewyn stays untouched."
Velmira smirked, the deal sealed. "So be it."
She bowed to the Queen once more. "Prepare your people. A reckoning comes."
She vanished in a swirling, echoing blast of emerald wind.
Silence. Heavy. Crushing.
Nyra whispered, her voice trembling slightly, "She felt… unstoppable."
Cythera murmured, "Indestructible will. That's the perfect word."
Bravira practically shook with contained rage. Draven, however, simply lowered his head.
"Damon." His voice was older. Sadder. "What have you done?"
Everyone stared, confused by Draven's reaction.
Draven clenched his jaw, his eyes blazing with dark foresight. "We shouldn't have agreed to her terms. You don't understand. Damon doesn't know about the Brothers."
Bravira froze, a cold terror filling her eyes.
Queen Thessa slowly leaned back on the throne, slight fear showing on her regal face for the first time that day.
Draven continued, the words a dire warning. "Knowing Velmira, she's already made a deal with them. Or worse—she woke them up. And if they're with her… this war is far worse than you could possibly imagine."
Damon frowned, the dread tightening in his stomach. "Who are they?"
Before Draven answered, Thorpax asked quietly, his stone armor softening slightly. "Damon… has Earth ever noticed stars doing strange things?"
"Yeah," Damon said instantly. "But you'll have to be specific."
Meyren and Seyren entered, their faces grim. "Damon," Meyren asked, his voice low, "has Earth recorded star flickers? Gravitational waves from nowhere? Gamma bursts without a supernova?"
"Yes," Damon confirmed, the unexplained phenomena suddenly clicking into place. "But all those events have no official explanation."
Seyren nodded grimly. "They were caused by the Brothers."
Damon's stomach dropped like a stone.
Bravira continued, her voice heavy with the memory of combat. "They destroyed a sun near Earths solar system just to provoke Woewyn. Destroying that sun caused a chain reaction that affected Earth in those ways."
"Their goal was just to destroy the sun," Varnex added, his usual arrogance gone. "It was a small sun compared to Earth's, but the resulting chain reactions destroyed its entire solar system."
"And we fought them," Thorpax added, his voice gravelly. "For days. We pushed ourselves to the absolute edge."
Damon stared at the elite of Woewyn. "Who stopped them?"
Queen Thessa lowered her gaze. "Your father."
Draven ran a desperate hand through his hair. "They don't know he's dead. But Velmira does. And she'll use them. Perhaps they now know he's not around to stop them, which is why she's marching now."
My father... did that? Damon whispered, the thought overwhelming him. "Is there no one who can fight them?"
Bravira answered with bleak finality. "There's us. And the Queen. But she cannot fight."
Queen Thessa said, "I will fight—"
"No." Nyra's voice was surprisingly steady and mature. "If you die, Woewyn collapses. That is a strategic loss we cannot afford."
The Queen paused, accepting the logic.
Damon lowered his head. "I'm sorry. For agreeing to the terms."
Draven sighed, a hint of his old affection returning. "No. Varnex is right. We couldn't stop her anyway."
He stepped away, his mission refocusing. "Come. I know where she is. We track her now."
Nyra grabbed Damon's sleeve. "I'm coming too. I need to see what we're up against."
Draven nodded, the urgency overriding protocol. "Fine."
Later...
Wind curled around the ruined structures of Eternum, whipping up dust that smelled of ancient decay. Velmira stood under the outer roof of a building with shattered pillars, her black robes flowing like smoke.
The sight reminded Damon of a Hercules cartoon he watched as a child. Hercules held those long pillars to save men. Yet those men persecuted him. Tragic indeed.
Draven appeared beside her, without Eterna flash, simply there. "Well," he said quietly, "it's been a while."
She smirked, not turning her head. "You're still handsome."
He shrugged, trying to keep the mood light. "Woewyn has good food."
She finally looked at him, her eyes sharp. "Too bad it's going to crumble."
"Not if I'm alive."
She sighed, the sound carrying genuine sadness. "That's why you're my weakness."
Draven's face softened. "And mine is you. But how can I trust someone who wants to destroy our home?"
She pushed him against a cracked pillar in one effortless, breathtaking motion.
Her razor-pointed ring traced the line of his cheek. "I'd hate to scar you again."
He met her eyes, challenging her. "I'll take any mark from you if it's out of love...If you're still capable of it."
Her voice dropped, thick with history. "It's either you believe I love you, Draven, or you believe I'm a liar. Do you think I'm lying, Draven?"
Draven flipped her, pinning her back against the pillar, his lips brushing her ears. "Liars are bad girls, and you're not exactly good either."
She raised a brow, the ultimate seductress. "Your nasty tongue doesn't suit your face. Besides... you've always liked bad girls."
She shoved him back with a burst of emerald power, and the spar began. It was a dance of pure, contained fury and affection. A honeycomb of quarrel, where every strike was half flirtation, half fury. Her blade grazed his shoulder; his hand caught her wrist. Their eyes locked, saying I want you. Their bodies moved saying You must be stopped.
She landed sitting directly on him, her breath warm, her hands pressed against his chest.
"You lasted longer this time," she whispered, her voice heavy with double meaning.
Damon groaned loudly from the shadows, covering Nyra's ears with his hands. "Oh c'mon—"
Velmira threw her head back and laughed, a genuine, joyful sound that cut through the desolation. "In battle, Damon. His stamina is infinite when it comes to—"
"NEXT," Damon interrupted loudly, flushing crimson.
Varnex appeared, landing hard beside Damon. "I knew we couldn't trust you alone, Draven."
Velmira looked down at Draven one last time, her expression suddenly vulnerable.
"Next time Draven," she whispered, her voice heavy with warning, "don't let me win."
She dissolved instantly into swirling emerald dust.
Draven lay flat on the ground, his heartbeat wild, staring straight up at the dark sky of Eternum.
"That," he said breathlessly, ignoring Varnex completely, "was fantastic."