I stood right near the jagged edge of the shattered bridge deck, my boots planted on a piece of broken marble frame while the wind from the failing atmospheric fields tugged at my trousers. Outside, the last golden remnants of the Chief Administrator’s massive ledger station were just... dissolving. There were no dramatic explosions or burning fireballs in the void, just huge plates of gold turning into a soft, harmless cloud of yellow dust that drifted away into the dark.For the first time in what felt like a hundred years, my chest actually felt light. I took a deep breath, filling my lungs with the stale, cool air of the wreck, and realized that the heavy, suffocating weight I'd been carrying around was completely gone. The constant, invisible hum of the system—that nagging feeling that every step I took, every breath I drew, and every scrap of metal I picked up was being logged, judged, and taxed by a massive digital eye—was just gone.I looked down at my hands. The skin on my kn

The dreadnought’s landing skids settled into the cracked stone of the main plaza with a long, heavy groan. By the time the hatch cycled open and the ramp lowered, my legs were still feeling like lead, but I forced myself to walk down it on my own two feet.The moment my boots touched the ground, the noise hit us.Thousands of people were packed into the wide plaza—tall, slender beings with skin like spun glass, smaller folks with bright, curious eyes, and families holding their kids up above the crowd. I instinctively braced myself, my hand twitching toward my hammer out of pure habit. I was waiting for them to bow, or fall to their knees, or ask what tier we were. That's what people usually did when someone cleared a sky-wide catastrophe in the old sectors.But nobody bowed. Nobody started chanting titles or asking for status screens.Instead, a young girl with clear, light-refracting skin ran right up to us, pressed a warm, smooth crystal flower into Miri’s hands, and just laughed.