Shafts of sunlight slipped through the high window and settled across his face like a quiet summons. Leroy woke alone inside a modest chamber of an inn within the Kingdom of Prisian. For a moment he lay still, listening to the hush of unfamiliar walls, then lifted his hand and studied it as if expecting it to betray some hidden truth.

  The tremor was gone. No haze. No lingering taste of drunken oblivion.

  He rose slowly from the bed, its comfort meant for a single traveler who carried too many thoughts to share the space. The room smelled of wood polish and morning dust. A silence that felt almost deliberate.

  Both hands covered his face.

  "Why am I here? Last night I remember inside the manor."

  His eyes widened as memory struck like cold iron.

  "Starmist. Where is she? I left her again."

  Leroy swung his legs off the bed and froze.

  A thunderous snore filled the room.

  Professor Bjorn sprawled across the sofa, clutching an empty bottle as though it were a relic salvaged from battle. His beard rose and fell with each breath, a rhythm of careless defiance against sobriety.

  "Bjorn!" Leroy shouted.

  Bjorn jolted awake, clutching his chest with theatrical agony. "Leroy, you chaotic!."

  Leroy stared at him, expression hollow with disbelief. The professor answered by raising the bottle to his lips despite the fact that he had only just awakened. A gesture both tragic and entirely expected.

  Leroy slapped his own cheeks twice, grounding himself in sensation, forcing reality to settle into place.

  Bjorn burst into laughter.

  "Yes, yes. Last night you experienced the most beautiful dream your miserable life could ever conjure."

  Leroy stood upright, confusion tightening his posture. "What do you mean? Why are you here? How did you even know I was here?"

  "Relax, conqueror of women Leroy. Do you think I'm sorcerer who can locate you without being told?" Bjorn replied while draining the final drop from his bottle.

  Leroy poured a glass of water and drank slowly, letting clarity return in measured breaths. His gaze drifted to the window. Beyond the rooftops, the manor of House Canis stood visible in the distance, its towers piercing the pale sky like silent witnesses.

  Bjorn leaned back and began his tale.

  At the edge of dawn, while he and Elysius were still working through the night inside Cognisource, searching desperately for stories to fill the coming week, the council's holiday had drained the world of events worth reporting. Ideas were scarce. Narratives thinner still. The machinery of news was starving.

  Then Starmist arrived.

  Her presence startled every guard in the building.

  Bjorn described how she stood before them with a face illuminated not by magic but by something far more disarming. A quiet radiance that made even exhaustion retreat. She spoke of the night, of the manor gates, of the fragile distance finally crossed between two people who had spent years orbiting one another without collision.

  And most of all, she spoke of what Leroy had told her.

  Bjorn reached for a cloth and wiped his nose, pretending irritation.

  "I never imagined the day would come. I thought you would carry those to the grave without ever giving them a name."

  "Bjorn… are you crying?" Leroy asked, unsettled by the sight.

  "No, it. After hearing that story I came here immediately to watch over you."

  "So Starmist brought me here herself," Leroy murmured.

  The words felt unreal even as they left his lips.

  "Where is she now?"

  Bjorn scratched his tangled beard before standing, his spine cracking as he stretched away the stiffness of sleep.

  "She returned to Stargate. Said there were family matters to handle. But her expression… well, you know it."

  Leroy swallowed. "What expression?"

  Bjorn's grin widened with almost paternal amusement.

  "Shining like a newborn star."

  Silence followed.

  Leroy's hands tightened unconsciously as fragments of the previous night resurfaced with increasing clarity. The manor gate. His confession trembling at the edge of fear. Starmist's hand stopping his retreat. The embrace beneath a sky that seemed too vast to contain such a moment.

  He pressed his palm against his forehead.

  "So it was not a dream."

  Bjorn chuckled softly. "That was reality. Cloning programs, now those are dreams."

  Leroy remained by the window, watching the distant silhouette of House Canis. The manor stood in perfect stillness, its towers untouched by rumor or memory, as if the previous night had dissolved into nothing more than a passing illusion.

  Snow began to fall, delicate and indifferent.

  "Bjorn… did I make a mistake?"

  The professor lifted an eyebrow. "What mistake?"

  Leroy did not answer. His gaze followed the drifting snowflakes, each one vanishing the moment it touched the earth.

  "I am the council chairman," he said quietly. "Every decision I make reshapes the All Realm. Feelings like this… they should not interfere."

  Bjorn clicked his tongue, a sound that carried equal parts annoyance and affection.

  "Listen carefully. We have endured too many hardships together. I am happy that my two friends finally chose one another."

  The door opened.

  Elysius entered with unrestrained energy, crossing the room in quick strides before grasping Leroy’s hand with a radiant smile.

  "I told you before, didn’t I? You always had hope. Congratulations, brother."

  Bjorn produced a cigar from his coat. "Elysius could barely hold back his tears last night after hearing the news."

  Elysius’s cheerful expression collapsed instantly. He turned toward Bjorn with visible irritation.

  "Slander. You were the one moved to tears, even sent the staff home so they would not witness your sentimental side."

  "I could hear you struggling to keep your nose from running, boy," Bjorn replied while lighting the cigar, smoke curling upward like a quiet provocation.

  Leroy laughed and placed a hand on each of their shoulders, gently pushing them apart before the exchange escalated into something louder.

  "What matters is that this remains between us for now. I will inform Cygnus, Amaterasu…"

  Both Bjorn and Elysius exchanged a peculiar look.

  Bjorn opened his mouth, words stumbling against hesitation. Elysius scratched his head with the unmistakable posture of someone preparing to confess an inconvenient truth.

  "So actually… I… he… Elysius here…" Bjorn muttered, pointing awkwardly at the younger man.

  "I am sorry. We already scheduled this as a headline for newspaper in three days," Elysius declared before lowering his head.

  Leroy froze.

  The moment stretched, brittle as thin ice.

  He sat on the bed, glass still in hand, his expression drained of color as reality settled with quiet inevitability.

  "I told him we could report something else even if we were short on topics," Bjorn rambled defensively. "But when I asked Starmist, she allowed it."

  "We thought this might also discourage the nobles from proposing to Starmist," Elysius added. "She has already given you her answer."

  Leroy nodded once, quickly, the composed expression of a council leader returning to mask the storm beneath.

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  "You two are truly unbelivable."

  Yet his thoughts fractured into countless possibilities.

  Public revelation. Political consequences. Noble houses reacting with pride or resentment. Council factions measuring advantage. Rumors distorting truth into spectacle. Starmist becoming not a woman but a symbol within the realm’s endless game of perception.

  Confession had been intimate.

  News would not be.

  "Elysius, help me stand."

  The Child of Light grasped his hand and pulled him up with effortless warmth, then poured another glass of water for the chairman.

  "What is the headline?" Leroy asked.

  Elysius leaned behind Bjorn’s sofa, speaking with casual pride. "Well, since you and her are together now, I added the word engaged."

  Leroy choked. Beside him, Bjorn sprayed a mouthful of alcohol across the room.

  "You fool Celestial. Do you even understand what that word means?" Bjorn demanded.

  "It suggests closeness, does it not? Nobles often use it when proposing to Starmist. It sounded fitting for a headline."

  Leroy steadied himself, one hand gripping the glass while the other pressed against the wall. His gaze lowered, not in shame but in calculation.

  Bjorn stood and struck the back of Elysius’s head.

  "Idiot. Why did you not ask me first?"

  Elysius rubbed the sore spot with wounded indignation. "You always say to choose powerful words for the main headline."

  The two council members glared at each other with enough tension to fracture the quiet inn. For a moment it seemed the room itself might erupt under the weight of their disagreement.

  Leroy returned to the bed and sat down, silence swallowing him whole.

  Bjorn noticed immediately. The professor inhaled from his cigar, then extinguished it halfway through, abandoning the comfort of smoke for clarity.

  "Listen. We have a serious situation. The first page has already entered production."

  "Can the paper be withdrawn?" Leroy asked softly.

  "If necessary, we will discard the topic," Bjorn replied before casting a sharp glance at Elysius. "You will work through the night and oversee the corrections."

  "If Starmist sees a headline like that, it will be disastrous," Leroy murmured. "I never said I would propose to her."

  Elysius faltered. Words tangled against hesitation.

  "So… I did not consult the professor about the title… but…"

  Both men stared at him as unease began to surface.

  "Before Starmist left, I showed her the headline. She… smiled and nodded."

  Color drained from Leroy’s face.

  Bjorn’s anger dissolved into roaring laughter. The Plague Professor stepped forward and extended his hand toward the Green Wraith, shaking it with exaggerated solemnity.

  "Congratulations, Chairman Leroy. In three days you will possess a debt that demands repayment."

  "I am certain that if Leroy speaks with Starmist, a solution will emerge. I do not mind working through the night," Elysius added.

  Bjorn shook his head slowly. "No, let it be."

  He turned back toward Leroy, voice softer yet unyielding.

  "Leroy, do not disappoint Starmist again."

  Bjorn draped an arm around Elysius and guided him toward the door.

  "We will wait downstairs to escort you. Prepare yourself."

  Elysius continued asking questions as Bjorn dragged him away, their voices fading beyond the wall. Laughter mingled with confusion until silence reclaimed the room.

  Leroy remained seated.

  The future pressed inward from every direction.

  Just when relief had begun to settle after months of tension, another weight emerged before the program destined to reshape the All Realm could even begin. Personal bonds and political upheaval refused to exist separately. They intertwined with quiet cruelty.

  Leroy slipped a hand into his coat pocket and felt folded paper.

  He drew it out.

  The signature struck his eyes with merciless clarity.

  "Starmist approves the cloning program."

  He sank back onto the bed, a faint laugh escaping as his eyes closed. The sound carried neither joy nor despair. Only recognition.

  Four voices had agreed. Two opposed. One remained undecided.

  Months of travel with Starmist had yielded an unsettling truth. Of seventy six kingdoms across the realm, fifty three struggled with superhuman crises in varying forms. Twenty reported benefit. The remainder stood neutral or too fearful to answer.

  The conclusion had become unavoidable.

  The cloning program would proceed.

  The decision was no longer theoretical. It had crystallized into inevitability, a tide that could not be reversed by doubt or sentiment. Even Starmist’s approval, quiet and deliberate, carried implications far beyond policy.

  Later, inside the steam carriage, Leroy sat in silence as landscapes shifted beyond the glass. Snow gave way to frostbitten forests and distant mountain ridges as the vehicle advanced toward the border dividing North and West.

  Beside him, Bjorn and Elysius conversed with careless energy, discussing council politics, industrial expansion, and rumors circulating through the All Realm. Their voices formed a distant hum against Leroy’s thoughts.

  Why does everything within these two days carry the same tension as war?

  The question lingered without answer.

  When the carriage halted, Leroy stepped onto the border.

  Before him stretched the Tureau Sea, dark blue and impossibly deep, its waters separating territories with a calm that masked ancient violence. The horizon appeared endless, a boundary that invited crossing yet warned of consequence.

  Without hesitation, Leroy took flight toward the Mainland.

  Behind him, Bjorn and Elysius returned toward the Forger factories, their silhouettes shrinking as distance reclaimed them.

  By the time Leroy returned home, two months had passed since he had last crossed its threshold. Yet the house remained immaculate, untouched by neglect. The Weapon Masters had clearly maintained it in his absence, likely under Cheng’s instruction or Lisa’s silent insistence.

  Familiar silence welcomed him like an old companion.

  He sank into the cushioned chair and activated the transmitter.

  "Cheng. Tonight, usual place."

  "So you have returned. Very well, I will be there," Cheng replied through the connection.

  "Which leaders are currently in the Mainland?"

  "Myself. Lisa returned yesterday. Burgess and Balthazar are here as well."

  "Bring them all. There is something important I must say. Bring D’Hertz too. He needs to hear this."

  "Understood."

  The Pale Dragon ended the transmission.

  Leroy removed the fading Cryon battery from the device and replaced it with a new one. The old battery, drained and useless, was dropped to the floor and crushed beneath his heel without hesitation.

  Some things were not meant to be repaired.

  He wandered through the house, pausing before photographs, sketches, and medals lining the walls. Fragments of youth preserved as evidence of battles survived and ambitions fulfilled. Achievements that once felt monumental now seemed distant, almost detached from the person he had become.

  His gaze settled on a single frame.

  Leroy and Starmist stood side by side within it, caught in a moment that predated confession, before silence had transformed into distance. Before time had taught them restraint.

  He lingered there longer than he intended.

  Night arrived.

  Inside Pristine House, beneath its polished exterior, the underground chamber echoed with laughter and clinking glasses. The upper echelon of the Weapon Masters gathered around a long table, toasting to lives shaped by conflict yet sustained by companionship.

  "D’Hertz, I heard you traveled with Susanoo. What monster did you kill this time?" Burgess asked.

  "Nothing to be killed. We had not seen each other for a while," D’Hertz replied.

  "So the Storm Samurai ready to return for the next colosseum match?" Cheng asked.

  "Of course. He has told me that five times in two hours."

  "If that is the situation, I am not fighting. Send Rufus instead," Burgess muttered.

  Balthazar burst into mocking laughter, beer spraying across the table. "The furball fears becoming roasted."

  "After the Starfall incident, Extraterrestrial will definitely register Druganda," D’Hertz added while wiping foam from his mouth.

  "Should we hold our noses when he appears?" Balthazar joked, sending another wave of laughter through the room.

  "And from the abyss… Raidbones already fought before. You all know who turn next," D’Hertz teased.

  "Ender Dryskull," Lisa answered coldly, polishing her weapon with mechanical precision.

  "Leroy, can he at least use a wooden sword? That black iron might kill someone," Cheng joked.

  The remark tugged at Leroy’s memory of a previous incident, but he remained silent amid the growing noise. The room grew louder, words overlapping until meaning dissolved into pure sound.

  Lisa struck the table with sudden force.

  Silence fell.

  She cleared her throat and glanced sideways. "Leroy. How was your journey with Starmist?"

  "That is right, First Brother. What is with that expression? You should be happy," Balthazar teased.

  Leroy met their gazes one by one, weighing words against inevitability.

  "Well…"

  "Do not tell me you argued again," Burgess interrupted while devouring a turkey leg.

  "Shut up. Let him speak," Cheng snapped.

  Leroy exhaled slowly.

  "I told her."

  The room grew quieter still.

  Lisa, D’Hertz, and Cheng stared at him with widened eyes, their intensity almost uncomfortable even for the Green Wraith.

  "And her answer?" Cheng asked.

  "Did she refuse?" D’Hertz added.

  Leroy shook his head, eyes fixed on the liquid swirling within his glass.

  "She said yes?" Lisa whispered, covering her mouth.

  Leroy nodded.

  The reaction was immediate.

  Cheng and D’Hertz leapt from their seats and embraced him with unrestrained joy. Burgess, lacking context yet unwilling to be excluded, joined the embrace anyway, transforming the moment into chaotic celebration.

  D’Hertz waited until the laughter faded into a quieter rhythm. When the room settled, he turned toward Leroy with a gaze that carried unexpected seriousness.

  "Since you are now engaged, I should tell you something. Mia still hopes to return to you."

  Burgess nodded, pointing with the bare bone of a turkey leg already stripped clean.

  "You should speak with her."

  "I already said I will not meet her outside of work," Leroy replied, his voice rising slightly. "I am finished with that part of my life."

  Cheng placed a steady hand on his shoulder.

  "But you once made a promise to her late brother. I thought…"

  "Leroy, if you wish to begin something new, the old must be closed properly," Lisa interrupted, her tone neither harsh nor gentle. Only certain.

  Silence followed.

  Leroy inhaled slowly, the weight of unfinished histories pressing against his thoughts.

  "Fine. I will meet her."

  The room responded with quiet nods before glasses lifted once more in subdued acknowledgment. Celebration returned, though tempered now by the recognition that every new path demanded confrontation with what had been left behind.

  Leroy watched them for a moment, then spoke again.

  "I am considering preparing a successor for my position in the council. With my relationship with Starmist now public, I do not wish to appear… biased."

  "Are you suggesting one of the nine leaders as your replacement?" Cheng asked.

  "Yes. Though I doubt any of you truly desire that burden."

  They exchanged glances, contemplation replacing humor.

  "We are experienced in commanding army," Lisa said, "but council matters require a different knowledge."

  "True. Burgess might wet himself sitting at a table with Lucretius, Amaterasu, and Cygnus," Balthazar added.

  Leroy nodded in agreement.

  "Among the other leaders, those capable of facing such pressure would be Axel and…" He swallowed before finishing. "Mia."

  "Axel would not hesitate to confront arrogant nobles like Starfall," Cheng said while finishing his drink.

  "It would be disaster if Mia and Starmist shared the same council table," D’Hertz teased.

  Leroy shot him a sharp glance before offering a crooked smile.

  "Which is precisely why I will nominate you as well, Ellison Ramones."

  D’Hertz froze, pale with disbelief, glancing around before pointing at himself. The others erupted in cheers.

  "If a Vanguard like you steps forward, we will support you without hesitation," Cheng declared.

  "Accept it, mad musician. That is the summit of a Regal Vanguard," Balthazar laughed.

  D’Hertz revealed a strained grin, nodding slowly as glasses rose in his honor. He stood and approached Leroy, extending his hand.

  "I accept your challenge. I will learn what must be learned."

  Leroy clasped his hand firmly.

  "I will inform everyone. Do not worry."

  "But I have one condition," D’Hertz replied, a mischievous smile forming.

  The room fell silent once more. Leroy’s expression hardened, mirrored by the attentive faces of the gang leaders.

  With booming laughter, D’Hertz spoke.

  "You must go to Stargate and propose to Starmist."

  Leroy stood motionless as the room erupted into unrestrained laughter.

  "Do not worry," Balthazar added. "I will find a ring for her tomorrow. Tonight you only need to think of the words you will say to those House Star."

  Cheng immediately dragged Balthazar and Burgess toward the door, urging them to finish their drinks before departing.

  "Remember. A silver ring with a star design," Lisa called after them.

  D’Hertz slung his guitar over his shoulder, tightened his boots, and followed.

  "Relax, Leroy. We stand with you in this and whatever follows."

  The door closed behind them.

  Silence returned.

  Leroy sank back into his chair, exhaustion settling into his bones like an unwelcome companion. Lisa remained beside him, her presence quiet yet grounding.