[Katherine's PoV]

  “He’s in contact with Demi,” she said quietly into her communicator.

  “Confirmed,” came the reply through the static.

  “She seems close to him,” another voice added.

  “Rumor says he gave her a Bronze Crystal,” someone else reported.

  Katherine’s jaw tightened. “Someone needs to move in closer. I want eyes on them.”

  Two of her officers, positioned among the crowd, acknowledged in silence, their small icons blinking as they began to advance. Through her gauntlet, she watched their movements in real time.

  Text updates began scrolling across her gauntlet’s display as they couldn't speak.

  [They’re talking about the fight on Fantasia.]

  [They mentioned something about repelling an attack from the Lot forces.]

  Katherine exhaled slowly. 'We already know that.'

  [They're talking about altered mechs.]

  [It sounds like Atlas has modified Dardanus engineering.]

  [How is that even possible?]

  Her eyes narrowed. 'It isn’t. It shouldn’t be.'

  'If what they were saying was true, then someone had given him access to restricted designs. And the only ones who could do that were inside the Dardanus engineering corps themselves.'

  [He agreed to show them the mechas to sell.]

  [Looks like a regular sale. What are your orders?]

  Katherine’s pulse quickened, though her face remained impassive.

  'A normal sale?'

  The thought was absurd. If Atlas was really in possession of Dardanus schematics, then this wasn’t business. This was espionage.

  And it wasn’t one Great House at risk.

  If he had access to the Dardanus defense systems, he could map every weak point in their fleets. He could unravel the balance of power that held the Reformist Faction together.

  “Keep following them,” she typed into her gauntlet.

  “Yes, Lady York,” came the reply, barely audible under the background noise of the crowd.

  “Your dress is stunning!” a noblewoman exclaimed, gliding toward her with a practiced smile, jeweled fingers brushing lightly against Katherine’s sleeve.

  Katherine turned just enough to acknowledge her, but her eyes were elsewhere. They were focused beyond the smiling faces, locked instead on the small icons flickering across the display on her gauntlet.

  Her officers were moving. And so was Atlas.

  [They’re moving.]

  [Heading to the second floor.]

  That was all she needed.

  “Excuse me, gentlemen,” she said smoothly to the cluster of nobles nearby. “I’ll need to step away for a moment.”

  Her tone was polite, her expression serene, but the instant she was clear of the crowd, her composure vanished.

  She lifted the hem of her gown as she crossed the grass at a brisk pace. The stadium gave way to the access corridors, the noise of the celebration fading behind her.

  Once she was out of sight, she broke into a run.

  Her heels clicked sharply against the floor as she moved. She gathered her dress higher, taking the stairs two at a time.

  By the time she reached the second floor, her pulse was pounding from anticipation. She caught sight of them as they reached the private meeting rooms at the end of the corridor.

  A sound caught her attention. It was like glass fracturing under pressure.

  Katherine froze. The noise was faint, almost delicate, but her instincts screamed.

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  The next instant, the world erupted.

  A wave of heat slammed into her, a roar that devoured everything. The corridor exploded into chaos as shards of glass tore through the air. The shockwave hit her chest like a hammer, hurling her backward.

  The walls buckled. Panels ripped free from their mounts. Fire bloomed in violent orange arcs, expanding outward as the station’s emergency systems failed to react in time.

  Her instincts took over.

  Katherine threw up her arms, her gauntlet flaring to life. Red light surged across her body as the Red Armor materialized in a burst of energy, the plating forming around her limbs in segmented layers.

  The explosion caught her mid-transformation. She felt herself lifted off her feet, the world spinning.

  When she finally hit the ground, her armor’s systems were already stabilizing, the HUD flickering to life across her visor.

  Her ear drum felt like it had ruptured. She could taste blood in her mouth, metallic and sharp, as it trickled from her nose and into the back of her throat. Every breath came with a cough, each one scraping against her chest.

  “What happened?”

  “Was that an attack?”

  She heard the voices. Her officers were shouting over one another. However, their words were distant, distorted, as though they were speaking from the far end of a tunnel.

  'An attack? A trap?' The thought flickered through her mind, disjointed and half-formed. She forced herself to move. She tried to push herself upright.

  When her vision finally steadied, she realized what she was seeing. The group was still most likely alive. They’d been shielded by a wall of thick vines that had erupted from the corridor’s decorative plants, forming a barrier that had taken the blast. The leaves were charred and smoking, but they held.

  “Please! Calm down!” She heard someone screaming.

  “You bastard!” Another voice, furious, cut through the chaos.

  “It wasn’t enough that I gave you my daughter’s hand. You dare betray her with another woman, and during the ceremony?!”

  Then came the second explosion.

  And the third.

  The corridor became a storm of fire and light. The floor buckled beneath the shockwaves, the walls split open. The sound was deafening. Each detonation was followed by the next, a chain reaction of destruction that sent ripples through the entire structure.

  Katherine activated her gauntlet’s light as she tried to locate any survivors.

  Through the haze, she caught sight of someone.

  Orion Vellor.

  “Fucking hell,” she muttered under her breath.

  Of all the people to lose control, it had to be him.

  The man’s old call sign during the Eighth Wave came back to her.

  T.N.T.

  He could make explosions from pure Energy. Controlled, focused, devastating. In a confined space like this, he was a walking disaster.

  Through the fire and the chaos, something changed.

  Two figures burst from the ruined meeting room, their forms made of pure energy shaped into human outlines. They moved like lightning, streaks of white and gold that cut through the smoke and flame. Before anyone could react, they slammed into Orion Vellor, striking him square in the chest.

  The impact sent him hurtling backward. His body crashed through the window, and in a flash of light and noise, he was gone. He was launched into the artificial grass of the stadium’s lower level.

  For a moment, silence followed, broken only by the crackle of fire. Meanwhile, from the wreckage of the meeting room, another figure emerged.

  A man stumbled into view, his golden hair singed and his ceremonial uniform charred along one arm. His right hand was blackened, the fabric still smoking.

  Katherine’s eyes narrowed. 'Marco Ravell?'

  She hadn’t expected him here. She didn’t know what connection he had to Orion, but whatever it was, it had just erupted into something far beyond politics.

  For a brief moment, she thought it was over.

  However, Marco moved. He leaned against the shattered window frame, staring down toward the chaos below. Without hesitation, he jumped.

  “Wait. What the hell are you doing?” Katherine muttered, rushing forward.

  But before she could reach the edge, three more Marcos stepped out of the smoke-filled room. Identical. Perfect copies of the man who had just leapt.

  Each one paused only long enough to look at her. Then, one after another, they vaulted through the same broken window.

  Katherine froze, disbelief flashing across her face. 'What kind of Boon is that?'

  She forced herself to move, deactivating her helmet with a hiss of escaping air. The red glow of her armor dimmed as she sprinted toward the wounded.

  The defensive flora that had shielded them was beginning to dissolve, curling inward as the energy sustaining it faded.

  Through the haze, she spotted Atlas, Demi, and Emilia Vellor. Coughing, waving away the smoke.

  Katherine’s gaze shifted toward the collapsed meeting room. The ceiling had caved in, with panels hanging at awkward angles and sparks arcing from severed conduits. On the floor, a young woman lay unconscious beside a man whose face was swollen and bruised beyond recognition.

  “Is everyone alright?” Katherine called out, scanning the wreckage.

  “We’re fine,” Atlas answered, his voice strained but steady. He wiped dust from his clothes, exhaling sharply. “Well… he’s probably worse off, but he’ll live.”

  “Someone has to stop them,” Emilia said, her tone clipped, her eyes flicking toward the shattered window. She turned to Atlas, to Demi, to Katherine. “Before they destroy half the station.”

  “Damn it,” Atlas muttered, stepping toward the gap where the glass had been. “I’ll handle Orion. You take care of Marco.”

  Demi’s expression hardened instantly. “And who said you get to handle someone from my faction?” Her voice was sharp, defiant.

  Katherine just sighed, lowering her head slightly.

  “Not now,” she muttered, turning to them.

  However, Atlas was gone.

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