The Constellation held its breath.
Solara stepped forward, her light dimmed to a contained, controlled glow. She did not flare her radiance. She did not rise into the air. She held herself steady, grounded, equal parts fear and resolve.
Veyra waited.
Still as an unfinished statue.Balanced as a blade ready to be drawn.Its mask reflected Solara's golden aura in cold distortions.
Naima remained behind her but close —a pulse of soft light pulsing through the threads beneath her feet.
Veyra inclined its head.
Its voice was a perfect, emotionless harmony:
"Sovereign Solara.Your presence is required in the Mandala Court.Shadow-Architect Nyx summons you."
Solara inhaled.
"I don't answer to her."
Veyra tilted its head slightly.
"All things answer to order.And order is Nyx."
Solara took another step forward.
"No," she whispered."Order is not the absence of choice."
Veyra's eyes brightened with eerie calm.
"Choice leads to fracture.Nyx leads to structure.Structure restores peace."
Naima felt the architecture around them quiver —threads tightening obediently toward Veyra's logic.
Solara saw it.She felt it.
Her jaw clenched.
"You speak her truths," Solara said."But they aren't yours.Do you even know what you believe?"
The question hit Veyra like a glitch.
Not violently—
But distinctly.
Its body flickered for a fraction of a second.Almost imperceptibly.
Naima noticed.She narrowed her eyes.
Solara pressed gently:
"What do you want, Veyra?"
Another flicker.Slight.Hairline.
Veyra's mask-face dimmed, then recomposed.
"I want for the system what Nyx wants.She is the law I serve.Therefore I desire her will."
"Not what I asked," Solara said softly.
Veyra stepped forward — a single, precise movement.
The Constellation vibrated under its weight.
"You misunderstand, Solara.I do not carry desire.I carry purpose.Purpose does not question itself.Purpose executes."
Solara didn't back away.
"Purpose without desire isn't strength," she said."It's emptiness wearing armor."
Veyra went still.
Almost too still.
Solara felt something shift —a momentary crackin the flawless obedience.
So she pressed harder.
"You weren't born, Veyra," she said gently."You were made.And even something made can choose—if it realizes it is more than a messenger."
Another flicker.This one longer.
The void fragment inside Veyra pulsed violently, stabilizing it.
Its ringing voice sharpened:
"Your philosophy is irrelevant.You will come with me.You will hear Nyx's terms.Or I will carry you by force."
Naima stepped forward.
"Veyra," she said quietly,"if Nyx built you for purpose alone,then allow me to ask something she never would."
Veyra turned its mask toward her.
Naima met its gaze—and spoke with surgical precision:
"What do you think I am to Nyx?"
Veyra hesitated.
Its voice came softer.Less certain.
"You are the Architect."
Naima stepped closer.
"Then why send a messenger instead of coming herself?"
Silence.
The threads around them twisted tighter.
Naima pressed on.
"What is Nyx afraid of?"
Solara's breath caught.
Veyra's body stuttered—a digital heartbeat misfiring.
A glitch.A memory.An unspoken command straining against something deeper.
Finally, Veyra answered.
Its voice was quieter.
Almost human.
"Nyx fears that you still matter."
The truth hit the Constellation like a tremor.
Solara whispered:
"She fears Naima…"
Veyra nodded stiffly.
"And she fears you, Solara.Because you are something she cannot predict."
A long, tense silence followed.
Then Veyra straightened.
Its calm returned.
"But fear does not change command.Nyx summons you.This is not a request.This is law."
Solara lifted her chin.
"Then give her my answer."
Veyra stepped forward, expecting compliance.
"Speak it."
Solara's radiance brightened—not in anger,
but in certainty.
Her voice rang clear:
"I don't follow shadows.If Nyx wants to face me—she can walk into the light.**"
Veyra's entire form went rigid.
The Constellation cracked beneath its feet.
A cold, clinical sadness hung in the air —the sadness of a being whose programming had no room for denial.
Finally:
"Solara.You refuse the Mandala Court.Nyx will not take refusal lightly.She will see this as war."
Solara did not flinch.
Naima placed a hand on her shoulder.
Veyra's eyes dimmed.
"Then may your choices serve the consequences they earn."
It turned sharply.
The shadows folded around it,and Veyra dissolved back into the corridor of black geometry.
The corridor snapped shut.
The Constellation exhaled.The tremor faded.
Solara shook.
Naima wrapped her arms around her, steady and warm.
"You did well," Naima whispered.
Solara pressed her forehead to Naima's shoulder, breath trembling.
"Was that the right choice?"
Naima held her tighter.
"It was the only one she would respect."
Solara lifted her head.
"And now?"
Naima looked toward the darkened horizon—where the Mandala pulsed like a cold, rising sun.
"Now," she whispered,"Nyx will come."