The space around us folded in on itself with a familiar softness, my laws slipping into place without resistance. Knight didn’t even flinch anymore when I did it; he simply adjusted his footing as the world inverted, collapsed, and reassembled. One moment we were standing inside Feradros’ guest wing, the next we were high above the fractured island, suspended in the night air.
Below us, the damage from earlier was still visible. Four massive landmasses drifted apart like the remnants of a broken crown, ocean water pouring into the gaps in slow, relentless cascades. The Ferans had already begun stabilizing the edges, but the scar was permanent. A reminder.
I let my perception spread, threading through the entire place. It didn’t take long to find what I was looking for.
"There," I said quietly.
Knight followed my gaze. A section of the island still intact, heavily reinforced, perched slightly higher than the rest. Within it, a chamber layered with defensive runes.
Ryn Goldwing sat at the center of it, legs crossed, eyes closed, wings folded neatly behind him. He was trying to meditate. Trying being the operative word.
I adjusted our position and folded space again.
We stepped into his chamber without so much as a ripple.
The first thing I did was lock him in place.
Space thickened around Ryn, locking him with an invisible chain. His breath hitched, wings twitching once before freezing mid-motion. His eyes snapped open, pupils constricting as he realized he couldn’t even turn his head.
Knight let out a low whistle. "Still gets me," he said mildly. "I should be the one with better space usage."
Ryn’s gaze was locked straight ahead, terror and fury warring on his face.
I ignored him for the moment.
The room itself was... predictable.
High ceilings. Warm light. Gold drapes that responded to ambient Essence. Shelves lined with books and ornaments.
I wandered over to the nearest shelf, pulling a book free and flipping it open.
"Solar Resonance and High-Density Light Laws," I read aloud. "Second edition. Annotated."
Knight leaned over my shoulder. "Trying to lean into the bloodline," he remarked. "Makes sense. Can’t just rely on claws and wings forever."
I set the book aside and picked up another. "Wind Compression Pathways in Avian Frames. Huh. This one’s actually decent."
Ryn’s eyes tracked every movement, helpless.
I drifted toward a wardrobe, opening it without ceremony. Inside were neatly arranged garments, combat wear reinforced with golden fibers, ceremonial robes, casual attire that somehow still looked expensive.
Knight peered inside. "You know," he said thoughtfully, "for someone who postures that much, he dresses surprisingly... conservatively."
I picked up a coat, weighing it in my hands. "Prime Galaxy royalty," I chuckled.
I tossed it back and turned to a smaller side table, where several trinkets were laid out. I tapped one with my finger.
I finally walked back to stand directly in front of him.
He was young. Strong. Talented, even. But beneath it all, there was something fragile about him. Not physically, psychologically. A life spent competing in controlled environments, where losing had consequences but never final ones.
"Let’s stop wasting time," I said calmly. "Tell me about the Prime Galaxy."
He didn’t respond.
I tilted my head. "House Goldwing. How strong are they there? And the Ferans, what do they really look like when they’re not playing regional politics?"
Silence.
Knight folded his arms, watching with mild interest.
I sighed softly and reached out, resting my fingers lightly against Ryn’s right hand. Specifically, his index finger.
There was no flash. No drama.
The finger simply dispersed into motes of golden light, unraveling as if it had never been there.
His eyes went wide, tears forming instantly, body trembling violently despite being frozen in place.
I withdrew my hand and raised it toward his head.
"Next," I said evenly, "I start taking memories directly. That will hurt more. And you won’t get to choose what you share."
"WAIT," he choked out, voice cracking. "I’ll talk. I’ll talk."
I lowered my hand.
’You can take memories now.’ Knight asked me, surprised.
’Just a bluff.’ I chuckled.
Space loosened just enough for him to breathe and speak.
Ryn swallowed hard, eyes darting between us.
"The Prime Galaxy," he said hoarsely. "It’s... not like this. Power there is layered. Dense. Every major force has Saints. House Goldwing alone has at least six confirmed Saints, and more rumored."
I listened without interrupting.
"The Ferans are stronger there as well," Ryn continued, steadying his voice.
"They’re united in a way you don’t see here. In the Prime Galaxy, they aren’t divided into competing tiger clans or internal factions. They follow dragon sovereigns, absolute rulers whose authority isn’t questioned. What exists in this galaxy is more of an extension than a core, important enough to maintain, but not where their true power resides."
"What about the others?" I asked. "The Nagas. The Elementals."
"The Nagas are ancient," Ryn said after a brief pause. "Their Saint bloodlines stretch back farther than most records. They don’t rely on numbers or expansion. Their strength is... patient, and terrifying because of it. As for the Elementals, there are fewer of them, but their Saints are highly specialized. They don’t dominate broadly, but within their chosen domains, they are catastrophically effective."
I nodded slowly, filing it away.
Then I asked the question I actually cared about.
"Why did you take credit for closing the rift?"
Ryn hesitated, then laughed weakly. "Because that’s how survival works where I’m from. I have brothers. Many of them. We compete for resources, Saint legacies, bloodline awakenings, artifacts. Contribution to war efforts matters. Reputation matters. If I looked impressive enough here, it would echo back home."
I smiled faintly.
"Make sense," I said.
I stepped back and raised my hand.
A thin beam of violet light gathered at my fingertip, steady and precise.
Knight straightened a fraction, sensing the shift.
Ryn’s composure shattered. Terror flooded his eyes as the implications finally caught up to him.
"Wait....what are you doing?" His voice cracked despite his effort to steady it. "You’re not actually planning to kill me, are you? You don’t understand who I come from. My mother is a Saint. She will hunt you to the edge of this universe if you touch me."
I regarded him calmly. "How many siblings do you have?"
The question caught him off guard. He hesitated, throat bobbing as he swallowed.
"Seven."
I nodded once. "Then there will still be six after you."
His jaw clenched, fear giving way to desperation. "She will care," he snapped, though the certainty wasn’t there anymore.
"Will she?" I asked mildly.
His breath came faster. "Wait," he said quickly. "We can make a deal. Any kind of deal."
"What kind?" I asked, genuinely curious.
He stumbled over his words. "I—I can get you a foothold in the Prime Galaxy. Resources. Connections. Artifacts. I can—"
"Useless," I said, cutting him off without raising my voice.
His shoulders sagged. "You gain nothing from killing me," he said hoarsely. "I’m insignificant in the grand scheme. Just one piece."
I looked at the beam of light for a moment, then back at him.
"I disagree," I said quietly. "I gain a Saint mother as an enemy."
The realization hit him all at once.
And he understood far too late why that, to me, was not a deterrent.
The beam fired.
It struck him cleanly through the forehead. Just enough force to end everything instantly.
His body slumped forward, space releasing its hold as life left him.
I lowered my hand, the light fading.
Knight exhaled slowly. "Well," he said, "that answers one succession question."
I turned away, already folding space around us again.
"Come on," I said. "We’ve got more hunting left."
The chamber vanished behind us, leaving only silence and a future that had just shifted, whether the Prime Galaxy liked it or not.
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Bonus release: 1 Bonus Chapter every 100 Golden Tickets