They were well beyond the gates of Cellok before Snake slowed his stride and finally broke the seal.The parchment unfurled with a hiss, the ink still warm with Heartless’ authority. Dragon leaned over his shoulder as Snake read in silence, amber eyes narrowing line by line.“Well?” Dragon asked.Snake exhaled slowly. “We’re to investigate a movement. A king in the western sectors. He’s gathered followers… calling Evilside the killer of Ciria.”Dragon stopped walking.The name hung between them like a corpse refusing burial.“Ciria?” he repeated quietly. “That story died centuries ago.”“So did many things that people keep digging up,” Snake muttered. He folded the scroll carefully. “This king is using it to unite rogues and sympathizers. Says Evilside murdered a goddess. Says the Liroid elders buried the truth.”Dragon’s jaw tightened. “And people believe him?”“They want to believe him,” Snake corrected. “That’s worse.”For a moment, neither spoke. The wind moved through the tall st

Heartless read the message twice.The parchment was thin, the writing sharp and unmistakably Evilside’s. No wasted words. No softness. Just a command wrapped in inevitability.Her fingers tightened around the scroll.Outside her window, the training grounds glowed under the late sun. Sky stood in the center of the field correcting a formation, calm and precise. Passion hovered too close to be accidental, pretending to argue with another student while stealing glances at him. When he looked her way, she straightened, chin high, as if daring the world to question her.Heartless watched the exchange and felt something in her chest ache.“Just when you were beginning to light up again…” she whispered.The crow was already gone. It never lingered after delivery. Evilside’s will did not wait for witnesses.Heartless folded the scroll carefully, as if neatness could delay what it contained. It couldn’t. Nothing delayed Evilside.She turned away from the window.Duty first.Always duty first.

Evilside did not summon Passion with thunder.There was no spectacle, no court, no elders whispering in shadows.She called her alone.The underground palace breathed as Passion stepped inside, roots pulsing faintly, the air heavy with ancient grief and power. The great tree stirred, its bark shifting, and Evilside’s true form emerged slowly, vast and watching.“You will marry into the Norm Lands,” Evilside said, voice echoing through root and stone.Passion froze.“Their emperor is Kavan,” the goddess continued, unmoved. “God of Winds Koros’ cruel son.”Passion swallowed. Every child knew Koro, volatile, proud, untamed. To be his son was to inherit the storm without mercy.“He keeps a large harem,” Evilside added calmly, as if speaking of the weather. “You will not be his first. You will not be his favorite. But you will be his anchor.”Passion’s hands clenched. “You want me to survive him.”“I want you to own him,” Evilside replied. “Piece by piece. Law by law. Bed by bed, if necess

Pattern’s estate glowed like a kingdom unto itself.Bron’s nobles, accustomed to polished marble and modest gold, stood speechless whenever they crossed its gates. Towers wrapped in enchanted ivy pierced the sky, white-stone halls veined with living silver, chandeliers formed of suspended starlight humming softly above. The floors shimmered like crushed diamonds beneath bare feet, and the gardens breathed with life: fountains pouring lily-scented water, statues carved from glowing moonstone, each face caught between beauty and sorrow.Within one of the inner chambers, Glass stood behind her youngest daughter, fingers moving with precise patience as she braided Echo’s hair. Each twist shimmered faintly, the braid responding to Glass’s magic as though it understood it was being shaped.Servant girls fluttered around Mist and Core, who lounged nearby, passing the time over a game of cards.Mist was quiet, an ethereal beauty with eyes that always seemed to be listening to something no one

Dragon and Snake rode into Bron at dusk, the city’s lanterns already glowing like fallen stars. It was the letters, Glass’s letters, that had drawn them here, each one threaded with worry she tried too hard to hide.The moment Snake dismounted, Glass was already running.She crashed into his arms without ceremony, fingers clutching his cloak as if she might never let go again. Snake froze for half a breath, then wrapped her up tightly, resting his chin against her hair.Pattern, watching from the wide staircase, shook his head fondly. “Sometimes,” he said, “I forget she’s your baby sister.”Snake didn’t look up. “Remember it always.”Glass laughed into his chest, muffled and bright.That was when the children spotted him.“Uncle Snake!”They came like a storm, Lake first, then Core and Echo, then Mist, all of them colliding into him at once. Someone tripped, someone laughed, and Snake very nearly went down under the weight of Liroid affection.Dragon clapped once, grinning. “Now that