Shera did not keep us waiting.
Once the last Feran ships finished stabilizing the region around the destroyed rift, his voice came through the comm channel, calm and even.
"We will be returning to Feradros," he said. "Our headquarters world. I’ll transmit the coordinates shortly. Please follow our lead."
A pause, then a faint shift in tone.
"You are guests. You’ll be received accordingly."
The coordinates appeared on Aurora’s console a second later, layered with authorization markers and transit lanes that immediately stood out as dense and restrictive.
Aurora studied them, then glanced at me. "No open jumps allowed," she said. "Every vector is controlled."
Shera’s ship pulled ahead. We didn’t jump immediately. Instead, both fleets cruised forward through open void, maintaining formation while distance stretched behind us in a slow burn.
It felt intentional. A transition rather than an escape.
Only after we’d crossed a wide stretch of empty space did the escorts begin adjusting their vectors. Energy patterns shifted along their hulls, and the void ahead responded.
A corridor formed.
Space itself aligned into a layered passage of color. Bands of muted blue, amber, and pale violet curved inward, overlapping like translucent sheets. The corridor pulsed once, stabilized, and opened fully.
Our ship slid forward.
As we entered, light bent strangely around the hull. Stars elongated into streaks, then dissolved entirely, replaced by flowing color that wrapped around the ship like a slow current.
Ash broke the silence.
"Is it appropriate for us to go there directly," he asked, "without preparation. Won’t we be surrounded and placed in danger."
Before I could answer, Lyrate spoke.
"No matter where we go, grey guy," she said calmly, "we’re always surrounded."
Ash turned his head slightly toward her.
She continued, unbothered. "The difference is this, we carry enough firepower to turn the second strongest force in the galaxy into nothing if they make the wrong move."
A brief pause.
"So relax," she finished. "And be confident."
"Also, you should go back to the core. They aren’t aware of a new member yet, so let’s keep it that way," I said, and sent Ash back to the core.
The corridor thinned ahead of us, its colors stretching and fading as the flow slowed. The layered light peeled away from the hull in quiet sheets, and then space snapped back into clarity.
Stars reappeared.
The moment we emerged, the ship’s sensors surged as if struck by a wave. Essence flooded the readings, thick and vibrant, permeating the void itself.
"This system..." Aurora murmured, eyes flicking across the projections as data poured in. "The ambient Essence density is off the charts."
Seven planets orbited a bright, stable star. Five of those planets showed clear signs of habitation, each one distinct in composition and purpose. Orbital rings wrapped around three of them, layered with shipyards, defense grids, and traffic hubs that pulsed with constant movement.
"This entire system is theirs," Aurora muttered. "They have organised it properly."
She expanded the display, highlighting energy flows. "Every planet is contributing. Power generation, logistics, military production. No single point of failure."
North leaned forward slightly. "They’ve designed it so losing one world doesn’t cripple them."
"Yes," I said. "That’s why they’re second only to the Nagas."
As we advanced deeper into the system, patrol fleets shifted to shadow our movement. Each group peeled away after a time, replaced seamlessly by the next.
Shera’s voice came through again.
"Feradros enforces closed-system travel," he said. "No jumps are permitted within the system without authorization. Every planet carries enough defensive strength to repel an invasion force."
He paused briefly, then added, almost casually, "Including the demon race. Monarch excluded, of course."
Steve let out a low chuckle. "That’s... boasting."
I watched the central world grow larger on the viewport.
Feradros itself was massive, far larger than Dragos, with visible continents spread across its surface. Unlike the volcanic dominance of the demon world, this planet was varied. Vast landmasses stretched beneath layered cloud systems, with oceans broken by archipelagos large enough to host cities of their own.
What stood out most was how beautiful it looked. And there was traffic.
Ships moved constantly between Feradros and its neighboring worlds, thick lanes of transit glowing faintly as vessels entered and exited atmosphere in disciplined streams. This wasn’t a capital that ruled from isolation. It was a hub.
"This is a working headquarters," Aurora said quietly.
"You’ll be staying at the primary guest residence," Shera said. "It’s located on the central continent, close to the High Assembly district."
I raised an eyebrow. "Straight to the center."
A faint note of amusement entered his voice. "There’s no benefit in pretending otherwise."
As we descended, Feradros filled the viewport fully now. Cities spread across the land in interconnected networks rather than singular towers, their designs adapting to terrain rather than erasing it. Some regions were clearly tailored for aerial races, others for ground-bound tribes, yet none were isolated.
We broke through the cloud layer and approached a sprawling complex set on an island. The guest residence wasn’t a palace, but it wasn’t modest either—broad, open structures integrated into the surrounding land, with space clearly designed to host powerful visitors without making them feel confined.
Our ship touched down smoothly.
Shera was already waiting when the ramp lowered.
"Welcome to Feradros," he said, inclining his head slightly. "I hope the journey was comfortable."
"It was," I replied. "Your system is... impressive."
He smiled faintly. "It has to be."
We disembarked, and for the first time since entering the system, the sense of constant motion eased.
"You’ll have time to rest," Shera continued as we began walking. "No formal meetings today. Tomorrow, representatives will wish to speak with you."
Steve glanced sideways at me. "Representatives," he echoed. "Plural."
Shera didn’t deny it. "Feradros listens before it decides."
North met his gaze. "And what is it deciding?"
"That," Shera said evenly, "depends on what kind of force the Order of Absolute intends to become."
I stopped briefly and looked out across the distant cityscape, the layered movement of ships, the sheer scale of coordination required to sustain this world.
"We intend to help the fight against the Eternals," I said.
Shera studied me for a moment, then nodded.
"Then you’ve come to the right place," he said.
We resumed walking, the guest residence coming into clearer view as the path curved along the shoreline.
I let my perception spread across the island.
What I sensed gave me pause.
Ferans were everywhere, of course, but they weren’t alone. I picked up the signatures of Nagas moving through the same spaces, Elementals moving with the crowd, even Aquas circulating through the waterways that fed into the inland sea. None of them felt like guests passing through. They belonged here.
It was deliberate.
For a race aiming to replace the Nagas at the top, Feradros wasn’t isolating itself. It was integrating.
If we were already under invasion, already facing threats on every front, then what was the true advantage of becoming the strongest force? Raw dominance alone wouldn’t stop a galaxy-wide war.
So why reach for the top at all?
The question lingered as we walked, unanswered, pressing at the back of my mind.
=================
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