Twenty swords. All broken.
Null stood in the center of the training grounds, surrounded by shattered steel. Master-forged blades reduced to scrap. Each had failed the same way—unable to channel spatial ether without collapsing.
Useless.
Physical matter had limits. He needed something else.
He raised one hand. Ether condensed instantly, streams of cosmic energy flowing together under perfect control. The formed katana was darker than void, stars glowing along its edge—unnaturally perfect. He gave it one swing—silent, clean, the air parting without resistance.
"Prince Null." The maid's voice cut through his focus. "The Queen requests your immediate presence."
The blade dissipated. He turned, no trace of annoyance showing.
"Now."
Null materialized on his throne.
The woman in the center of the room stopped his thoughts cold.
Beautiful—divinely so. But that wasn't what made his mind stutter. His Cosmic Awareness touched her ether and recoiled.
An ocean. No, more. Limitless. Impossible.
Her power pressed against his senses like staring into infinity. Vertigo hit hard. His head spun. None of it showed on his face.
"Prince Null," she said, voice carrying otherworldly harmonics. "I am Aria. I serve Lord Elarion, son of the Nexus of Life."
She produced a glowing scroll made of woven leaves. "My master invites the Dragon Queen and her heir to a gathering of the realm's youngest talents. Three months hence, at the city of Silverwood, in the heart of the Elven Domain."
Aurora accepted the scroll. Null spoke first.
"How selective?"
Aria's golden eyes turned to him. "Only those demonstrating exceptional potential before their tenth year. My master is particularly interested in those with… unique elemental manifestations."
There it was.
"Who else?"
"The heirs of the other six Nexus members. Selected prodigies from major kingdoms. Twenty individuals total."
"The heir of the War Nexus will be there?" Null kept his tone conversational. "I hear he's already conquered three minor demon territories. At age eight."
Aria's smile didn't change. "Young Lord Marcus is indeed accomplished. His methods are… efficient."
Revealing nothing. Confirming everything.
"And this interest in unique elements—recent?"
"My master believes the next generation will reshape our world. He wishes to observe the catalysts."
Every word perfectly chosen.
"We'll consider it," Aurora said, ending the exchange. "Thank you."
Aria bowed. Vines of green and gold light briefly formed behind her, like fleeting wings. "May your scales never dull, Your Majesty." Her gaze found Null. "And may your stars burn eternal, young prince."
She dissolved into a shower of glowing leaves that smelled of ancient forests.
Silence filled the throne room.
Aurora turned to him, expression grave.
"That wasn't an invitation, Null. It was a summons."
He waited.
"The first time I met the Nexus of Steel, it wasn't as an ally." Her voice carried the weight of memory. "He came to our borders demanding a rare ore that only our mountains produced. When my father—the king before me—refused, the Nexus of Steel didn't declare war."
She paused.
"He forged a single arrow that could pierce our conceptual defenses. Shot it into my father's throne from a hundred miles away. The arrow is still there, embedded in the stone. Not an attack. A message."
Her eyes found his.
"That is how they operate. They don't ask. They demonstrate power."
Null's smile was slight but certain. "Let them try. I have advantages they can't comprehend."
"The Nexus children are raised from birth to be weapons. Political, physical, conceptual weapons. They'll test you. Push boundaries. Look for any crack to exploit."
"Good."
"Null." Her tone sharpened. "I'm serious. The Elven Domain is completely Elarion's domain. His mother's power there is absolute. If something happens—"
"It won't."
She studied him. Saw the calculation behind his confidence. Not arrogance—certainty.
"Don't mistake politics for a spar, Null. The wounds are not so easily healed. Trust no one."
The warning hung between them, heavy with maternal fear and royal experience.
Null's chambers were quiet.
He'd teleported directly from the throne room, needing space to think. The maid from his hatching day—the one who'd been there when he first opened his eyes—was folding clothes near his wardrobe.
She turned, bowing immediately. "My Prince. Is there anything you require?"
"No. Leave me."
She bowed again and exited silently. No questions, no lingering. The perfect servant.
The interaction left him colder than the warning had.
Null moved to the window, looking at the dragon kingdom sprawling below. Thousands of dragons go about their lives, unaware their prince has just been summoned to a gathering that could reshape the world's power structure.
In this room, he wasn't the prince who'd destroyed an army. He wasn't a prodigy with impossible skills. He was just alone.
Jordan had been alone, too. It was a different world, a different body, and the same isolation.
The Nexus children would come with armies of servants, advisors, and guards. They'd have been trained in every social grace, every political maneuver. They'd know who they were and where they fit in the world's hierarchy.
Null knew only what he'd built himself to be.
His reflection in the window showed an eight-year-old's face with eyes that held universes. A child's body containing power that violated natural law. Neither fully human nor fully dragon. Neither Jordan nor purely Null.
The gathering would be more than politics. It would be validation or destruction. Either he'd prove himself among peers who could challenge him, or he'd be exposed as an anomaly to be studied and contained.
His hand pressed against the cold glass.
There are three months to prepare, three months to decide exactly what mask to wear, what power to reveal, and what game to play.
The dragon kingdom below continued its evening routines. Peaceful. Unaware.
Null's resolve crystallized in the silence of his chambers.
A summons, not an invitation. So the game begins.