Morning rose over the Mainland.

  Birds still sang as if nothing had changed. Thin smoke continued to coil from the ruins of Harbor District Six, visible even from the highest tower of Caelumreach. From there, the wound in the city could not be ignored.

  Cygnus and Lucretius arrived through a portal and took their seats in the council chamber. The room still empty, its vastness amplifying the silence between them. Cygnus stood and summoned a translucent mirror spell, its surface rippling as it opened a view toward the harbor. He stroked his beard thoughtfully, eyes narrowed.

  The Fallen Knight remained seated, unmoving. Adamsword rested beside him, untouched, as it always was.

  Voices broke the quiet outside the chamber doors.

  Professor Bjorn entered with force, his presence filling the room, followed closely by Elysius. The boy carried a fresh Cognisource newspaper, its ink still sharp. He held it up for all to see.

  DISASTER AT DISTRICT SIX HARBOR

  EXTRATERRESTRIAL FACTION FACES ACCOUNTABILITY

  Cygnus glanced at the headline. “You did not name Starfall directly. The follow-up runs tomorrow?”

  Bjorn dropped his heavy frame into a chair and drew on his cigar. “Yes. Today we discuss the stupidity itself.”

  Elysius passed the paper to Lucretius. The Fallen Knight barely spared it a glance.

  “Why must this happen during peace,” Elysius muttered, frustration bleeding through.

  Cygnus returned to his seat and slid a folded paper across the table. “Elysius. I will issue warnings to several parties. Prepare invitations to Caelumreach.”

  “Of course, Master Spellbane,” Elysius replied, tucking the note away.

  Bjorn exhaled smoke sharply. “Madness. What Starfall did was not merely destruction. It was the greatest insult his faction has ever endured.”

  “Uncle, are you suggest imprisonment in the Northern Abyss then?” ask Elysius.

  “For deterrence,” Bjorn answered without hesitation. “And to reaffirm council dominance.”

  A streak of fire tore through the air outside.

  Amaterasu descended onto the balcony like a falling sun. Glass doors shattered outward as he landed, fury blazing in every step. He stormed into the chamber and pointed at Cygnus and Bjorn alike.

  “Listen carefully,” he said. “Whatever happens in this debate, you will not blame Starmist. That woman has suffered enough.”

  Cygnus turned his ring slowly. “Calm yourself.”

  Bjorn nodded. “I would never corner my own friend. I would forbid Starmist from leaving the council over this matter.”

  Amaterasu scoffed. “And what was Starfall thinking? Even Susanoo is a fool, yet he never destroyed everything for nothing.”

  “I refuse to discuss your brother,” Bjorn replied, uncorking a bottle of alcohol. “Starfall alone is already more than enough.”

  The chamber doors opened again.

  Leroy entered.

  His eyes were bloodshot. Thick stacks of reports rested in his hands. Without ceremony, he placed the incident files before each council member. One by one, they began to read.

  The room fell silent.

  Even Lucretius read this time.

  Leroy sat heavily in his seat and closed his eyes for a brief moment. His exhaustion was unmistakable. He had not slept since returning from the Stargate.

  Amaterasu glanced sideways while reading the report. His voice softened.

  “Leroy, get some rest. When Starmist arrives, I’ll wake you.”

  “I’m fine,” Leroy replied without opening his eyes. “I just need to close them for a moment.”

  Cygnus lowered the papers onto the table, fingers lingering at the edge. “I did not expect the destruction to be this severe.”

  At that moment, Starmist arrived at Caelumreach.

  She walked with her head bowed, long hair falling forward to hide her face. Commonfolk along the corridors paused to look, but no one dared speak. A young girl broke from the crowd and ran toward her, offering a single flower. Starmist smiled faintly, accepted it, and gently brushed the girl’s hair before continuing toward the tower.

  Inside the chamber, Bjorn exhaled a thick trail of cigar smoke. “So tell me, do you think this is imbalance?”

  “No,” Cygnus replied calmly. “This is different. His action has no meaning.”

  Amaterasu folded his arms. “Then what do you intend to do?”

  “We wait until Starmist arrives,” Cygnus said, returning to the report. “She needs to hear this herself.”

  Bjorn scoffed. “If you missed it, over a dozen primary ships were destroyed. Not to mention auxiliary transports. Warehouse reserves are gone. And Cryon batteries detonated on top of it all.”

  Outside the chamber door, Starmist heard their voices. She stopped.

  For several moments she stood there, hand hovering near the handle. Doubt gripped her. Five long minutes passed as she steadied her breathing. Then she drew a deep breath, released it slowly, and entered the council room.

  Silence fell instantly.

  Amaterasu rose and gently shook Leroy awake. “She’s here.”

  “Starmist,” Amaterasu said, pulling a chair beside him. “Come. Sit.”

  One by one, the council members offered quiet words of reassurance. It was little, but it was all they could give her now.

  Leroy opened the emergency session.

  “Before we discuss Starfall,” he said, voice hoarse, “you need to understand that the harbor was not fully backed by Unus Bank. Unlike the Cogworks industrial.”

  “Then how do we recover the losses?” Elysius asked.

  “Send a formal ruling to Lord Star,” Leroy replied, covering a yawn with his hand. “Let their faction address it first.”

  “You look exhausted,” Bjorn said. “You should rest.”

  Leroy sat back and nodded toward Cygnus.

  “I’ll take it from here,” Cygnus said. “With respect, House Star is in a vulnerable position. A call for aid will not be answered unanimously.”

  “Then we abandon Leroy’s proposal?” Amaterasu asked.

  “No,” Cygnus replied. “We proceed. But the true purpose is to see who still answers the call and who does not.”

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  Bjorn cleared his throat. “Elysius. Prepare the council seal for the letter.”

  Elysius nodded.

  Cygnus folded his hands on the table. “Now, I want to understand how an emotional collapse of this scale was allowed to happen.” He turned his gaze slightly. “Lucretius. We are waiting.”

  Lucretius considered his words. “He said he understood the mission. When I attempted to continue the transmission, he cut the line.”

  Amaterasu’s eyes narrowed. “How many times did you contact him?”

  “Once,” Lucretius replied. “When he first arrived.”

  Bjorn, Cygnus, and Amaterasu all inhaled sharply, hands pressing briefly to their chests.

  Starmist finally spoke, her voice low, eyes downcast.

  “I never imagined this would happen. He accepted the mission with proud, at the dinner table. We were happy. All of us. We thought he wanted to become a better heir.”

  The room fell quiet.

  Amaterasu handed her a warm drink. She accepted it with trembling fingers.

  Bjorn glanced at his report. “Starmist, Burgess states that Starfall repeatedly said he hated his father. Was their relationship truly that bad?”

  She took a sip before answering. “They have always clashed. There was a time I questioned whether our family could even endure.”

  Cygnus leaned back slightly. “So this is personal.”

  The word lingered in the air, heavier than any accusation.

  Starmist lowered her head until her forehead touched the table. Her voice was barely more than a breath as she apologized on behalf of her nephew and her House. She said that if the council chose to imprison Starfall in the Northern Abyss, she would not stand in their way.

  Amaterasu and Elysius both moved at once, urging her gently to lift her head.

  “You should know this, Starmist,” Cygnus said, his voice calm but firm. “There will be no imprisonment in the Northern Abyss.”

  The words struck the room like a dropped blade. Even Starmist looked up in shock.

  Cygnus folded his hands and spoke without haste. The council, he explained, will not afford to wound the reputation of House Star. Their influence ran too deep for decade. As the wealthiest House in All Realm and the backbone of the Extraterrestrial faction, House Star was not merely another pillar, it was load-bearing. To send Starfall to the Northern Abyss would further humiliate the House, invite other Houses to trample what remained of its honor, and by extension erode Starmist’s standing as the public face of the council itself.

  He proposed another path.

  Starfall would be placed under self-enforced house confinement, indefinite in length, to be reviewed later by formal judgment.

  “Imagine tomorrow’s headline,” Cygnus continued. “Heir of House Star imprisoned in the Abyss. House Star disgraced. Everything you and Sevenstar have built reduced to ash. That is the cost of spectacle.”

  “Master Spellbane,” Elysius said, half rising from his seat, “I understand your reasoning. But will All Realm accept this?”

  “Cygnus,” Starmist said quietly, “you need not protect us. I never expected mercy.”

  Bjorn extinguished his cigar with a sharp press of his fingers. “This is madness. How am I supposed to twist this narrative? Destroying full harbor is a crime worthy of execution if he's not a noble. Prison would already be lenient. House confinement?”

  Amaterasu’s voice rose. “You would leave Starfall confined to his own estate? We have all heard it. Even his father cannot control him.”

  Bjorn nodded grimly. “Let him rot in the Abyss for a few months. When clarity returns, then release him. That would be good.”

  Starmist looked to Bjorn, then to Amaterasu. Lucretius, Leroy, and Elysius followed with silent agreement.

  Cygnus raised his voice, just enough.

  “Enough.”

  The room fell silent at once.

  “I have asked you repeatedly to view matters from the greater frame,” Cygnus said, his gaze moving slowly from face to face. “Not from personal outrage.”

  “Our image is as vital as our intelligence and our power. House Star anchors this council. Starmist embodies it. To damage their standing is to rot the council from its foundation.”

  “But Cygnus,” Amaterasu began.

  “There is nothing left to clarify,” Cygnus cut in.

  He turned to Bjorn and Elysius. “This is your challenge. Shape public perception. Do not hesitate.”

  Elysius lowered his head in acknowledgment. Bjorn relit his cigar, jaw tight.

  Cygnus then faced Lucretius and pointed toward him. “Starfall’s future within Vanguard falls to you.”

  Lucretius stiffened, momentarily at a loss for words.

  Amaterasu placed a hand on Starmist’s back and looked around the chamber. “Then you must all agree to grant Starmist additional leave. She needs time to tend to her family.”

  “Of course,” Elysius said, taking Starmist’s hand with a reassuring smile. “I will send you full transcripts of every meeting.”

  No one objected.

  One by one, the council members rose from their seats. The emergency session ended, leaving behind a room heavy with compromise, consequence, and decisions that would echo far beyond Caelumreach.

  “Starmist,” Amaterasu said before taking flight, his voice gentler than his flames, “if you need to clear your mind, come to my place again. This time, I swear I’ll throw Susanoo out myself.”

  He rose into the sky and vanished.

  Leroy pushed himself up from his chair. “Starmist.”

  She turned. “Leroy, thank you for what you did last night. You warned Lord and Lady Star before the news spread. I owe you.”

  “Don’t dwell on it,” Leroy laughed, the exhaustion finally gone from his eyes. “You sound like you’ve only just met me.”

  A small smile touched Starmist’s lips. She departed soon after, leaving the chamber with Elysius and Bjorn.

  Cygnus opened a portal, its surface swirling with cold light, and sent Lucretius back to the Abyss. As Cygnus turned to step through one of his own, Leroy called out, stopping him. The Sorcerer Supreme paused and looked back.

  “Cygnus,” Leroy asked, “is it truly impossible for us to touch House Star?”

  Cygnus considered him for a moment.

  “As long as the council stands,” he said, “there is nothing beyond our reach. But for now, this is something we cannot touch.”

  Cygnus Spellbane stepped into the portal and was gone.

  Leroy remained alone in the council chamber. He stared up at the ceiling, eyes hollow, the weight of unfinished consequences pressing down on him as the room fell quiet once more.

  After the emergency council session ended, Leroy withdrew to Pristine House in District Three. He chose silence over numbers, refusing for the moment to dwell on the harbor’s losses. The final calculations he left to the Tallymasters. Some burdens could wait.

  Cheng and Burgess found him there not long after. Both looked worn down, their usual confidence dulled by exhaustion.

  “So,” Burgess asked, uncorking a bottle of alcohol, “what’s Starfall’s fate?”

  “I hope the council delivers a punishment that fits the crime,” Cheng added. “Destroying the harbor makes no sense. Not even in madness.”

  Leroy did not answer at once. He stared into a glass of cold water, his expression empty, distant. Cheng and Burgess exchanged a glance.

  Cheng frowned. “Don’t tell me they let him walk.”

  “The decision has been made,” Leroy said at last, his tone flat. “And I’m ordering both of you to keep quiet about it.”

  Burgess wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “That's must be sorcerer supreme decision, then.”

  “And Lady Starmist?” Cheng pressed. “Was she there?”

  Leroy exhaled slowly and drained his glass. “I truly pity her. She’s always been kind. Even back in the age of war.”

  A faint smile crossed his face. “Come to think of it, she was the one we all protected the most back then.”

  Cheng tilted his head. “You’ve known her a long time, haven’t you?”

  “She was my first friend after I gained this power,” Leroy replied, eyes closing as memory surfaced. “Without her, I wouldn’t be who I am now.”

  Burgess studied him closely. “You know the real reason Mia left you, don’t you?”

  Leroy opened his eyes. “She chose another man. I was fighting on the battlefield. That much was obvious.”

  Burgess smiled faintly. “She was also jealous. Of how close you were to Starmist.”

  “I explained it to her,” Leroy said, pouring more water into his glass. “She never understood. Back then, Starmist was only a friend. Nothing more.”

  “And now?” Cheng asked quietly. His gaze sharpened.

  “I mean the way you look at her. Is she still just a friend?”

  Leroy filled his glass to the brim. Cheng and Burgess waited, eyes fixed on him, expecting an answer from the Green Wraith.

  Instead, Leroy changed the subject.

  “Do you want to know how Lord and Lady Star reacted when I reached the Stargate before dawn?”

  Both men raised their brows.

  “Lord Star stood up without a word,” Leroy said. “He walked out of the hall and stared into the night sky. Didn’t say a thing.”

  He paused. “Lady Star cried. I stayed with her. Tried to give her strength.”

  Leroy leaned back, staring at nothing. “Sometimes I wonder if I did the right thing. Telling them before the news broke.”

  Cheng placed a firm hand on his back. “This isn’t about right or wrong. As a councilman, the choice feels personal. But as a man, you did the right thing.”

  “Lord Star played a role in granting you your relic,” Burgess added. “You’re still human. Of course you admire someone like him.”

  Leroy propped his head in one hand.

  “I couldn’t bear to see them like that,” he said quietly. “Amaterasu, Bjorn, myself, so many Vanguard and superhumans across All Realm. We all owe him.”

  He exhaled, the breath heavy. “Lord Star succeeded in shaping us into what we are today. But he failed with his own son, he hoped most would inherit everything.”

  Silence settled over the room.

  Cheng and Burgess fell into their own thoughts. Neither of them had been elite superhumans trained directly by Lord Star, yet all of All Realm knew that reputation. It was not something one could ignore.

  Leroy continued, words spilling now that the dam had cracked. “I can’t stand seeing that happen to them. And yet the council and I both understand this. What Starfall did must be punished. Severely. Just like any other superhuman.”

  “Easy, First Brother,” Burgess said softly.

  Leroy’s breathing grew uneven, emotion surging beneath his control. “But some bonds are too deep. Brotherhood forged in war. Debts of blood and survival. We fought together, bled together, and became closer because of it. If I’m honest… there is a part of me that cannot bring myself to imprison my own friends.”

  When the words finally left him, Leroy drew a long breath and forced himself back into stillness. He lowered his head.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “You didn’t need to hear that.”

  Burgess shook his head. “You’ve carried too much, First Brother. Come. We’ll take you home.”

  Together, Cheng and Burgess lifted him from his seat and guided him out, back toward his residence or perhaps the lodging nearby. Leroy did not resist.

  As they walked, the image of Starfall would not leave his mind.

  Not the monster of the harbor.

  But the boy who stood forever in the shadow of a father too great to escape.