Empire — Aboard the Imperial Dreadnought Aurelia, Private Quarters of the Gray Phantom
"Where is he?"
"He's waiting for you in your room, my lady. Also, there is a message from the homeland waiting for you."
"I'll come and have a look as soon as I finish with him."
"Yes, my lady."
The echo of her boots trailed down the marble corridor — cold, deliberate, unhurried. The automatic door hissed open.
[Door opens.]
"Sister! I missed you so much."
"Get off me!" Leonora's voice cracked like a whip, sharp and commanding. "You're twenty-four now — maintain your composure."
"I'm sorry," Roland muttered, stepping back, his grin a mix of guilt and childish warmth. "But I haven't seen you in months. Is it a crime to hug my sister?"
"What are you here for?" Her tone was flat, all warmth stripped from it.
"Yes — I have something very important to tell you, sister."
"Then say it quickly. I have more important things to do."
He smiled nervously. "You're going to be surprised. While you were fighting here, there was an emergency council meeting back at the capital."
"How so? It's unusual for them to hold unplanned meetings."
"Well… I was there as your representative." He took a hesitant breath. "The Empire has a big problem — with the Tartarusios."
"The mercenaries?" Her eyes narrowed, her reflection flickering against the glass wall behind him.
"Yes. Apparently they destroyed twelve ships with a single orbiton. They captured a visual of it — that's what I've come to show you. See for yourself."
The holo-screen came alive — blue light flooding the room, forming the unmistakable shape of a sleek, obsidian orbiton cutting through the void with inhuman precision.
Leonora froze. Her eyes widened just slightly, then hardened.
"It's the Altopereh… They think Youri is still alive?" She turned to glare at him. "You dare show me this?"
"I'm sorry, sister," Roland said softly, lowering his gaze. "Hurting you was the last thing I wanted. If it weren't for you, I'd still be on the streets of Terria. I know what he meant to you — I saw what losing him did. But the records… they suggest he might not be dead."
"Do we know who's part of that crew?"
"Some names. Its captain is Oscar Meilton. Two weeks ago, they added Youri's name to the registry."
Leonora stepped forward, the light of the hologram flickering across her face. "You know he would never work for anyone. We both know the severity of his condition. And yet…" she whispered, her voice trembling just beneath its usual poise. "There are few who could pilot Altopereh. None of them ever left the capital that day…"
She sank to the floor, her hands clinking against the steel plating.
"So you came all the way out here to tell me…" Her voice broke into a half-laugh. "That my husband — the man I buried in my heart — is still alive somewhere out there, and he never once thought to tell me."
She laughed again — hollow, tired. Then slammed her fist into the wall with a metallic crack.
"That idiot…" she hissed. "I'll bring him back. Even if I have to drag his body through every star in this cursed galaxy."
Roland knelt beside her. "Sister… I never wanted to see you cry again. I'm sorry for making you do so."
Leonora smiled faintly, tears streaking the edges of her cheeks like lines of light. "These are tears of joy… which I'll take responsibility for. And I promise — this will be the last time."
Roland exhaled, shaking his head. "Good job, Roland… you made the Phantom cry."
[Monitor activates — urgent tone.]
"My lady, we need you at the helm. There's an urgent call for you."
"I'm coming," she replied, rising to her feet, her voice restored to its iron steadiness. "Let's go, Roland. After this, we'll bring him back."
"My lady, the call is from the capital."
"Put it on."
"Yes, my lady."
The monitor flared to life. Minister Alan's composed face appeared.
"Greetings, General Leonora. I congratulate you on the conquest of the Helix region. The Emperor sends his highest regards."
"Thank you, Minister Alan," she said, voice formal, chin lifted.
"I wish this were the only reason for my call," Alan continued gravely. "But it saddens me to inform you that Marquis Norda Miller has perished in battle at Altea. He fought bravely, but was killed in the explosion that consumed his ship. The Emperor will hold a royal funeral in his honor. His Highness demands all high-command officers be present."
Leonora bowed her head slightly. "Understood, Minister. My condolences to the Miller family. Thank you for informing me."
"One more thing, General," Alan added, his tone darkening. "The ones responsible for Marquis Miller's death were the Tartarusios crew. His Highness has personally decreed a bounty of ten million zells for their capture — dead or alive. Good luck on your return, General."
"Thank you, Minister. I'll see you at the funeral."
The call ended — silence filled the room.
Leonora's fists clenched.
"Things just got complicated."
"Shit!" Roland growled, punching the nearby console — the monitor shattered with a spark and a crack.
Leonora stood amidst the shards, her reflection broken across them — a dozen fragments of a woman too strong to weep again.
Her voice came low, deliberate, colder than space itself:
"So be it. The Empire wants them dead… and I want him back. One way or another — we're going hunting."
The last word fell like a vow, echoing through the room like the hum of her orbiton's awakening engine.