Embedded into the mountainside like a giant cog in the world's clockwork, the Fortress of Virenaught stood defiant against the elements.
Massive gear engines exhaled columns of steam into the blizzard-blanketed air, powering the fortress's outer defenses, which were laced with rotating turret cannons and rail spike launchers. Enormous metal towers with glowing thermal cores dotted the cliffs, their tubing glowing with internal heat and energy. This was Starisnova engineering at its finest.
The gates screeched open as a convoy of soldiers stomped through the icy courtyard. Among them was a woman draped in a long, pure white winter robe. Her hood was trimmed with white fur, and her golden eyes gave away her Aeterium blood. Her boots made no sound at all, designed for infiltration. Still, she walked as if she were royalty.
Which she was.
She was escorted through the main command hall, which was a massive chamber echoing with the sharp, rhythmic clicking of typewriters, mechanical printers and broadcast terminals. Officers barked orders over intercoms. Clockwork drones hovered near ceiling-mounted fuel vents, dispensing steaming oil into the hydraulic machines below. Animated blueprints flickered on walls, updating in real-time, displaying recent skirmishes, border movements and enemy detections. One of the escorts stepped forward, saluting sharply.
"Greetings My Lady. We've secured the asset. We're taking you to him now."
She nodded wordlessly and followed them past weapon vaults and laboratories. A pair of reinforced blast doors hissed open as they reached the lower secure elevator, a lift powered by magnetic channels and powered steam pulleys that shrieked to life as they descended.
As the elevator moved down into the belly of the base, she stared through the grated walls into the vertical shaft beyond. Massive pistons pounded the sides of the fortress rhythmically. Exposed pipes vented bursts of vapor like the breath of some deep, ancient beast.
"We caught him four hours ago," one soldier began, raising his voice over the mechanical churning. "Attempted breach from the south cliff side. He got past the first two sensor nets using some kind of reality-warp Tether. Would've made it into the control hub if the Dynasty Monarch of Starisnova hadn't intercepted the surge personally. He's the one who neutralized him."
She tilted her head slightly, intrigued by the news.
"That fast?"
"Yes, ma'am. The intruder is a Divine. At least... he registers like one. Has a powerful Divinity and unidentifiable markings on his spine. Starisnova tech couldn't fully scan his power. We've never seen this type before."
"That's because you're not looking with Divinity-tier analysis. I will."
They exited the elevator into a heavy-pressure tunnel lit by bulbs and vent conduits that blew hot steam against the frost-crusted stone. The walls here were lined with plaques of previous invasions, names of fallen soldiers and surveillance sketches of known S-Class criminals. A shrine to the fallen lay quietly to the side, surrounded by rusted helmets and folded flags.
Finally, they arrived at a frost-sealed interrogation room, where two high-ranking officers stood on either side of a steel table. Behind reinforced steel, the "Divine" was chained in an angular chair of binding construct that suppressed Divinities. Thick coils connected to the chair hissed out compressed cold gas at intervals, while a suppression field above emitted low harmonic hums calibrated to render even Sixth Enlightenment users inert.
He looked too human. He had pale skin and ragged hair with dark blue lines running down his jaw and neck like fractured lightning tattoos. His eyes were open, but his aura was unreadable.
"We've got a name. Probably fake," one of the guards said, handing her a datapad. "He goes by Caelom Veyrun. Claims he's an 'Architect of Oblivion,' whatever the hell that means. Speaks in riddles. Threatened to collapse our cores into a singularity if we didn't let him go."
She didn't respond. She walked to the window, studied him for a long moment, then finally spoke.
"I'll begin interrogation myself. Alert the Dynasty Monarch. I'm going to get every information out of him."
"And if he resists?" The soldier asked.
Liraith smirked faintly, eyes fixed on the prisoner. "Then I'll show him why Richinaria is neutral."
The cold, metallic door groaned open behind her as she stepped in, the light dimming to crimson behind her.
The prisoner's chains clanked as he sat hunched over the reinforced steel chair, his wrists strapped down with bindings that hissed every time he moved. His lip was cracked, blood having dried against his chin hours ago, and the dim flickering bulb above his head cast a sallow glow across the cold concrete room.
The reinforced doors hissed as they slowly began to shut. The man, still wearing remnants of his dark crimson armor now scorched from capture, raised his eyes from the floor as the door's gears groaned into place. His voice was hoarse, but brimming with stubborn pride.
"You can torture me. Strip my flesh if you want. I won't speak. You people think you're righteous. But you're just puppets dancing in the frost. Bringing in another officer to interrogate me now? You lot really are—"
His voice halted.
The woman who entered the room removed her hood, letting the heavy white winter fabric fall down her back. Her face glowed under the humming light. Her skin was dark bronze and was utterly flawless. Long curly white hair trailed over her shoulders in curls. Her piercing golden eyes shimmered with an ethereal light only one lineage possessed. His lips moved before his brain could even catch up.
"Beautiful."
"Thanks."
She pulled a chair from the side, its iron legs screeching slightly against the floor. Sitting down without taking her eyes off him, she crossed one leg over the other.
"So, do I know you?"
He blinked, visibly shaken. "No. But I know what you are. You're… you're an Aeterium Royal. You're from Dynasty Richinaria. A direct bloodline."
"Correct. My name is Anamorsia Richinaria, Supreme Commander of Dynasty Richinaria."
Her tone was almost bored but the man's spine stiffened. That name was bound to one of the oldest bloodlines in Spheraphase.
"And you're from the Third Generation, aren't you? One of the descendants of those who live in Mopheria, the Home of the Gods."
His jaw tensed. "Yes."
"I figured. The Second Generation was exiled, forbidden from entering Spheraphase ever again. But your lot… You weren't. You're cursed with the Ascension curse sure, but you found a loophole, didn't you?"
He said nothing. Anamorsia tilted her head.
"The Nexuses. That's how you crossed. After they left, the banishment clause weakened. Now you're here. After all the Third Generation aren't cursed not to enter Spheraphase."
He finally answered with a crooked smirk.
"So what? You've already pieced it all together. That means this interrogation is over. You've got what you needed. Let me go."
"You're funny if you think it's that simple. You're only a Divine of the Second Enlightenment. You've barely even begun to understand the stakes you've entangled yourself in."
The prisoner scoffed. "And what would you know about it?"
He didn't finish his sentence.
A violent, crushing pressure slammed into his chest like a falling mountain. It felt like gravity itself had increased a hundredfold in the span of a heartbeat. He gasped, wheezing. His eyes bulged as he looked up at her in disbelief.
"You're… you're a Sixth Enlightenment Divine?"
She remained perfectly still, perfectly composed.
"Correct, just like the others of the Dynasties. Before the Nexuses departed, they forcibly accelerated the Enlightenment of the future Monarchs or Monarchesses to the Sixth Stage. However, those not caught in the Epoch Cycle were not lucky."
Her voice dipped with bitterness.
"If my brother hadn't been trapped in the moon back then… maybe he'd be the one to inherit this and not me"
The man panted heavily, trying to straighten his spine again. She stood up.
"I'll make you an offer. I will let you go under one condition."
He looked at her with gritted teeth.
"You'll return to your people. You'll tell your Third Generation not to attack. Not now, not ever. Spheraphase is under our protection. Your beliefs have no place here."
He let out a bitter laugh, blood flecking his lip. "And if I say no?"
She smiled at him.
"You won't."
But just as she turned to walk toward the panel, an explosion tore through the chamber, blasting open one side of the wall in a violent eruption of steam, fire, and fractured gears. Alarm sirens began blaring across the fort and red lights bathed the corridor beyond in a pulsating glow. The entire facility groaned as if in agony. Above, somewhere distant, the unmistakable sound of shrapnel tearing through air and soldiers shouting orders rang through the metallic halls.
The ceiling shuddered. A pipe burst. Sparks flew in every direction. The force of the blast knocked Anamorsia back slightly, her cloak whipping violently from the shockwave.
The prisoner was thrown from his chair, coughing violently. But he smiled through the smoke.
"It's begun."
But Anamorsia didn't even blink.
"I really don't want to start a fight with the gods but since you asked so nicely..."