General Alaric Bray did not announce his arrival.He did not need to.The transport dock at the Outer Defense Command registered his clearance, disengaged its security lattice, and sealed again in silence. No horns sounded. No reception detail assembled. Authority this high moved without ceremony, recognized by systems long before personnel caught up.Captain Hale was already waiting at the corridor threshold, posture straight, expression disciplined.“General Bray,” Hale said, inclining his head slightly. “Welcome to Outer Defense.”“At ease, Captain,” Alaric replied, his voice calm, measured, carrying the weight of central command without needing volume. “Take me to the analysis chamber.”They walked side by side through the command spine. Tactical displays reflected across polished alloy walls—perimeter pressure graphs, lure dispersion patterns, stability indices pulsing in quiet order. Alaric’s gaze skimmed them without pause. He was not here to admire operational neatness.He was

The dinner was formal, restrained, and carefully timed.House Crowne did not overdo it. There was no excess meant to dazzle, no pageantry designed to intimidate. The long table in the west hall was prepared with the quiet confidence of a house that had faced judgment before—and endured it. Silverware aligned to exact measure. Crystal glasses remained untouched until the proper moment. The menu was modest by Crowne standards, selected deliberately to avoid even the faintest whisper of indulgence.Hospitality was courtesy.Not defense.When the audit delegation arrived, they entered together—men and women from different regions across Planet Arken, their steps measured, expressions neutral. Some carried travel fatigue beneath discipline. Others bore the faint stiffness of officials trained to read rooms without revealing a single thought.Ronan took his seat only after the auditors were fully settled.He did not speak first.At the head of the table, Magnus Crowne rose slowly. His prese

The audit did not begin with accusation.It began with silence.Morning light filtered through the tall windows of the Crowne audit chamber in Thalara, casting pale reflections across stone floors polished by centuries of restraint. The auditors took their seats in disciplined order, slates activating one by one, their expressions neutral enough to be unsettling.Ronan stood with the elders of House Crowne—Magnus and Garrick flanking him like immovable pillars. No Patriarch sat at the head. Lucas Crowne remained in interstellar command, his absence noted by everyone and spoken by no one.Cassian Holt occupied the observer’s position.As oversight.“The audit of House Crowne,” the lead auditor announced calmly, “will proceed in accordance with planetary governance statutes of Arken. This session concerns compliance, transparency, and risk evaluation. No conclusions will be drawn today.”Measured. Careful. Surgical.The first inquiries were administrative—records of holdings, deployment

The command post near Thalara’s outer boundary was no longer tense.It was frantic.“How long until reinforcement arrives?” someone shouted.A voice answered immediately, too fast, too sharp.“Eight minutes minimum!”“Eight minutes?!” another snapped. “The beast will reach the inner city in five!”On the projection, the dominion-class beast was already pushing past the last rural buffer. Its massive silhouette warped the pressure field ahead of it, steps slow but unstoppable. The defensive grid tried to compensate—failed—recalculated—failed again.The system had already lost the race.“This isn’t possible,” an officer said hoarsely. “That zone was classified stable!”“Stable doesn’t matter anymore,” another replied. “It’s already inside trajectory!”Ronan Crowne stepped forward.“I can pull it away.”The words cut through the chaos—not loudly, but cleanly.Several heads snapped toward him.“Pull it away?” someone repeated, incredulous.“You mean you lure it?”“That’s insanity,” anothe

“Seal the lattice!”The command tore through every channel at once.At the Outer Defense Command, Captain Hale slammed his palm against the console, eyes locked onto the collapsing window of time.“Crowne, move!” Hale barked into the open channel. “All long-range units—cover him! Clear the path!”Orders cascaded instantly.From the perimeter towers, rail cannons and long-range pulse rifles roared to life. Brilliant streaks of compressed force tore across the unsafe zone, slamming into lesser beasts that surged forward, drawn by the blinding cadence of the Golden Blade.Several fell.Several more replaced them.“There are too many!” an operator shouted. “The unsafe zone is swarming—fire is slowing them but not stopping them!”“Doesn’t matter,” Hale snapped. “Buy him seconds. That’s all he needs!”On the ground, Ronan could feel it—the pressure shifting as distant fire carved narrow gaps through the chaos ahead. Not enough to secure the field. Not enough to make it safe.But enough to r