This realization, stark and absolute, crashed down upon Theron, Kaelen, Elara, and Alya with the force of a collapsing mountain. Their pride, a fortress constructed from generations of unquestioned rule, countless accolades, and decades of hardened experience, crumbled into dust.
Before these two youths, who had barely lived a fraction of their lives, they could only do one thing.
They could only bow.
The submission left a taste like ash and acid in their throats, a corrosive poison to their very souls, but it was infinitely preferable to the only other conceivable option: complete and utter annihilation.
Finally, Theron Wintercroft, patriarch of his great house, met Orion's gaze. The profound, soul-deep exhaustion in his eyes went far beyond his cracked ribs and aching bones. "Just... what is it you want to do?"
Orion's disarmingly charming smile never wavered. "There are many things we want," he said, his voice a calm counterpoint to the surrounding devastation. "But what we need is simple. You four will provide the foundation for a new future. A new empire, if you want a fancy name for it."
A derisive snort echoed from Lyra. "What he truly means is, all of you work for us now." Her smile twisted into a mocking sneer, her eyes glinting with predatory amusement as she jabbed a finger toward Elysia and Lisanna. "And that includes your precious little daughters."
The four parents trembled, a fresh wave of incandescent rage warring with the chilling grip of helplessness on their faces. Their gazes flickered between the terrifying siblings and their own heirs, their minds reeling, struggling to process the impossible new hierarchy that placed them beneath their own children.
"Hey!" Elysia's sharp retort cut through the tension, startling everyone. Her haughty mask, which had momentarily shattered, was now firmly back in place.
With her hands planted indignantly on her hips, she leveled an annoyed glare at Lyra that would have frozen a lesser person solid. "They are still our parents! You can't possibly expect us, or them, to simply throw away generations of respect and tradition just because you won a fight!"
Beside her, Lisanna let out a small, musical giggle, stepping forward to loop her arm through Elysia's, her presence a warm counterpoint to her friend's icy fury.
"Don't get so wound up, Ellie. We already know what our new leaders are like." She leaned in, her voice a conspiratorial whisper. "Did you really expect them to care about stuffy old noble etiquette?"
Elysia scoffed, rolling her eyes in exasperation. "You're certainly taking all of this rather well."
"It's always better to go with the flow during moments like this," Lisanna shrugged, her smile as bright and dazzling as her own power. She leaned even closer, nudging Elysia playfully in the ribs as her voice dropped to an excited, secretive whisper. "And besides... don't you think Orion just seems even more... dazzling like this? I mean, who else in the entire world could do... well, any of this? It's amazing. Like... truly, unbelievably amazing."
Her tone had become soft and dreamy toward the end, her gaze locking onto the back of Orion's head, studying the strong, reliable line of his shoulders as if it were the most fascinating sight in the world.
Swayed by her friend's unguarded words, Elysia felt it again, just for a fleeting moment—that strange, irresistible pull on her soul, the unfathomable sense of warmth and absolute security she felt just being near him.
A furious, betraying blush crept up her neck. She forcibly shook her head to clear it, only to turn and see Lisanna not even bothering to hide her star-struck fascination.
"Tch," Elysia scoffed, turning away to hide her own conflicted expression. "Yeah, a real amazing guy whose best trait is being a silver-tongued playboy."
"Playboy he may be," Lisanna giggled, undeterred, "but at least he solved everything without anyone getting too badly injured."
She paused, her eyes flickering to the broken, unmoving forms of the elite guards and Commander Magnus, slumped like discarded marionettes against the far wall.
"...Well," she corrected herself with a wry smile, "at least there won't be any more infighting."
As the two girls bickered, their parents could only look on with utterly resigned expressions. They had impossibly, astronomically high standards for their daughters' suitors. Theron and Elara specifically recalled how that rising C-Rank star, the hero known as Lightning Blazer, had barely—barely—qualified to meet their most basic starting requirements, and even then, they had yet to fully approve of him.
And yet here was Orion. A Sump rat with no lineage, no decorum, and no respect for his elders, who used overwhelming, tyrannical force to bend the world to his will... and they could only swallow their bitter objections whole.
Orion, blissfully uncaring of their internal turmoil, continued as if laying out a simple business plan. "The main thing we need is resources. What you witnessed today is only the beginning of our potential. We need to train, to push our limits, to uncover the rest of our power. I'm sure unrestricted access to your family's most advanced Aether-saturated training sanctums and your private ancestral libraries is of no issue. Correct?"
Theron and Kaelen, the patriarchs in charge of such decisions, traded a long, weary glance. Truthfully, what Orion was suggesting was exactly what they would have done themselves had one of their own awakened with such terrifying, world-shaking potential. They would have funneled every resource, every secret, every advantage into nurturing such a talent.
With a jaw tight with resentment, Theron gave a slow, stiff nod. "There will be no issue."
"Perfect," Orion said. "And as for Elysia and Lisanna, they no longer need to follow your outdated teachings or archaic training regimens. Interacting with other fawning nobles is a waste of their time on a grand scale, and... well."
His smile widened into a knowing grin. "I think it's painfully obvious to everyone in this room who is the better master for their talents now."
"Tch!" Theron and Kaelen clicked their teeth in simultaneous, impotent fury, letting out begrudging grunts of assent. Elara and Alya stayed deathly silent, their expressions unreadable masks of stone. Hearing the truth—knowing this boy had perfectly replicated and then profoundly surpassed their sacred bloodline powers in a matter of minutes—didn't make the acidic taste of it any less sour.
"As for what else..." Orion trailed off, genuinely considering what would be most vital for their rapid, brutally efficient growth.
"Oh! Oh!" Lisanna chirped, bouncing on the balls of her feet with an excitement that was wildly out of place amidst the wreckage. "Information! We'll definitely need information! Father, you always tell me I need to focus more on my studies to be 'qualified' to know the real secrets of the city. Well, I'm sure I'm qualified now, right?"
Elysia sighed but gave a reluctant nod. "She's right, in her own way. Father, Mother, we will need access to all intelligence networks to make appropriate changes and secure our position."
Lyra waved a dismissive hand, the gesture full of contempt. "And make sure it's the actual important crap. No useless dossiers on your prissy politics, or who has what status, or any of that other boring, aristocratic dreck."
"Vital intelligence at the forefront," Orion clarified, his tone tinged with wry amusement at his sister's bluntness. "And a complete list of anyone who poses an immediate threat."
"An immediate threat?" Theron's brows furrowed. In his mind, no one in Zenith City could possibly threaten these two monsters.
At this, Lady Elara gave a cold, unladylike snort that dripped with venom. "If we're talking about threats," she spat, her voice laced with years of bitter rivalry, "then we should start by dealing with those savage Valerians. They managed to worm their way up over generations, becoming our chief rivals in advanced technology, Aether-weaponry, and military might. Their patriarch is Collyer Valerian, a despicable man who is just as ruthless as he is ambitious. And that slimy son of his, Cassian, is just a younger, more arrogant version of the same snake."
"Is that so?" Orion's casual smile remained, but a new, intrigued light danced in his eyes. "Dealing with those Valerians... yes, that does sound like it will be a bit of fun."
He clasped his hands behind his back, his posture shifting from relaxed to commanding, his tone from casual to absolute. "And finally: never betray us, and there won't be any problems."
He let that final, chilling decree hang in the air, a promise and a threat in one. "Truthfully, neither Lyra nor I care how your businesses work, how the Hero Association runs, what makes a villain, or any of the tedious minutiae of your lives. We only focus on getting the results we want. The stronger we become, the more everyone in this entire family," he motioned to all eight of them, a gesture that was both inclusive and proprietary, "can thrive. Honestly, you can practically consider us the new great guardians of your families."
"Guardians?" Elysia snorted, unable to help herself. "I now understand that all guardians must first beat down the very people they're assigned to protect."
Lisanna chuckled beside her. "A dependable guardian who can actually back up their words is better than one who's just full of hot air."
"Orion, hurry the hell up already," Lyra groaned, cracking her knuckles with an audible pop. "We've wasted far too much time talking."
Orion ignored them both, stepping forward, his shadow falling over the defeated nobles. He extended a hand, an offering of peace forged in the fires of their utter defeat. "So... deal?"
Even in this moment of absolute, unquestionable dominance, Orion knew better than to be a constant tyrant. The brutal beatdown was the introduction; this was the integration. He needed their compliance, but more than that, he needed their competence.
He truly didn't care enough to learn the millennia of logistics, politics, and labyrinthine management required to run their empires. That was their job.
For now, gathering strength and expanding his power was paramount. Having subordinates who were willing—or at least, logically compelled—to work for him was far more efficient than ruling over a cadre of begrudging, resentful slaves.
He also needed to give Elysia and Lisanna a sense of peace, a bridge between their old, structured world and his chaotic new one. After all, he mused with a flicker of internal amusement, these were his future in-laws. Despite how chaotic this first meeting was, he was sure everything would be smooth sailing down the road.
It was precisely this soft-handed approach, offered immediately after the crushing, iron-fisted display, that allowed the taut, horrified expressions on the noble parents to relax considerably.
The script for their lives had been bizarrely, terrifyingly, and humiliatingly rewritten... but the outcome was undeniable. They were fostering—or rather, had been forcibly acquired by—two talents that would expand their family's influence beyond Zenith, beyond the borders of Cascadia itself.
This was an opportunity wrapped in a nightmare.
After only a small moment of silent deliberation, the patriarchs moved. Grunting with the effort of bruised bodies and shattered pride, Theron and Kaelen grasped each other's arms for support, pulling themselves shakily to their feet.
Elara and Alya rose with more grace, though the deathly pallor of their faces remained.
Theron Wintercroft looked at Orion's extended hand, then at his daughter's slightly mixed but accepting face, then back to the young man who now held all the cards.
He, Kaelen, Elara, and Alya all slowly, deliberately, raised their own hands.
"Deal."
...
The day bled into evening across the vast Wintercroft estate, painting the sky above in magnificent hues of orange and deep violet.
Within the sprawling manor, an impeccable, almost sterile orderliness prevailed. Maids in crisp, black-and-white uniforms glided through opulent hallways, their footsteps utterly silent on the plush, hand-woven carpets.
Butlers stood ramrod straight at their posts, their expressions unreadable masks of professional duty.
Outside, armored guards patrolled the perimeter with a practiced, rhythmic cadence that spoke of years of discipline. Everything was as it should be, a perfect, unblemished portrait of noble life.
And yet, something was profoundly, deeply wrong.
An undercurrent of unspoken tension, a strange and dissonant hum, vibrated just beneath the surface of the estate's placid routine. It was a feeling no one could name but everyone could feel, a collective, prickling anxiety that had begun with a peculiar rumor that morning.
In a quiet, sun-dappled corridor, while polishing a row of priceless antique silver vases, two young maids huddled together, their voices hushed to conspiratorial whispers.
"Are you absolutely certain, Lillia?" the first maid, Anya, breathed, her eyes wide as she buffed a gleaming vase with far more vigor than necessary. "I suppose I felt it too, a sort of… shudder in the floorboards. But what kind of tremors could possibly come from the Field Chamber? It's the most reinforced room in the entire city! Only the Lord and Lady themselves could cause such a thing, and never so violently."
Lillia, the younger of the two, shook her head, her brown curls bouncing with her agitation. "That's what I've been saying all day! It wasn't just me. Elspeth in the main kitchens said the cast iron pots and pans rattled on their hooks. Even one of the junior butlers, the quiet one with the glasses, asked me if there had been an earthquake. If it was just one tremor, it would be easy to ignore. But there were several, one after another, each stronger than the last!"
Anya furrowed her brows, her polishing cloth stilled in her hand. "The absolute top leaders of Zenith City were meeting in there. Lord Vance and his family were here as well."
Her voice dropped even lower, to a near-inaudible whisper. "What could they have been discussing that would shake the very foundations of the manor?"
Many shared their questions, but none dared to ask. The Field Chamber was a sanctum sanctorum, a place where the fate of Zenith City was decided.
What happened within its Aether-infused walls was known only to the absolute rulers of their society.
Naturally, no one even dreamed of attributing the strange occurrences to the two newcomers Lady Elysia had brought home. They were just… people from the Sump. Ragged, unremarkable, and destined to be forgotten as soon as they were dismissed.
But unknown to everyone, from the lowest-ranking maid to the highest-ranking guard captain, those two individuals from the Sump had just orchestrated a monumental, earth-shattering shift in the city's balance of power, rewriting a century of history in a single, violent afternoon.
The world had changed, and they were the only ones who didn't know it yet.