The cold wind swept across Astra Prime, tugging at the frayed banners of the Celestial Sect. Once symbols of power, they now fluttered like tattered ghosts of past glory.
Inside the dim-lit Grand Hall, Sect Leader Yuan Xian sat silently on the throne of fallen starsteel. His eyes, once sharp like lightning, were clouded by weariness. Before him, knelt the two remaining core elders—Wu Jian, silent and grim, and Qin Lei, his steel arm clenched, voice tight with rage.
"They've gone too far," Qin Lei growled. "The Heaven-Fire Pavilion sends a marriage proposal, forcing our disciple into disgrace. That crippled fool Wei Jun, their Sect Head's useless son—they dare bind him to her?"
Elder Wu Jian opened a scroll slowly, voice calm but bitter. "They call her a jewel wasted in dust… and say a union would 'elevate' our sect."
Yuan Xian's eyes narrowed. "A calculated move. They humiliate us while offering a poisonous olive branch."
Outside, beyond the veil of cold silence, disciples trained with dull hearts. Whispers ran among them—of the pressure, the shame, and of her.
Her name was spoken softly:
Yun Qian.
The core female disciple of the Celestial Sect.
Beautiful, fierce, disciplined.
A flame hidden in ash.
She stood alone at the cliffside training platform, eyes fixed on the sky. Behind her, the younger disciples looked up with admiration, unaware of the storm circling her name.
In the hall, Elder Wu Jian spoke again. "Even the Ash Root Sect—low-tier, gutter-born—refused to ally with us. Said we attract misfortune."
Yuan Xian was quiet for a long time. "We cannot accept the marriage," he finally said. "But… we must prepare to compromise. The Sky Serpent Palace shadows Heaven-Fire Pavilion. Their hand tightens around our throat."
Qin Lei struck the floor with his steel arm. "Let them come. If we must fall, let it be standing!"
Yuan Xian looked out the window. "No. We will endure."
Later, in the twilight, Yun Qian walked through the silent inner courtyard. Elder disciples bowed as she passed, yet she looked neither proud nor afraid. Her path was forged in steel, and her pride, though silent, burned hotter than any flame.
She raised her gaze to the stars above.
Once, her sect owned half the universe.
Now, it was mocked, humiliated, and scorned.
But her eyes didn't hold despair.
They held resolve.
And when she spoke quietly into the wind, it wasn't a whisper.
It was a promise.
> "Let them scheme. Let them sneer. I will not bend. Not for peace. Not for power. And never… for them."
The stars did not answer.