The Ghost Skiff, a marvel of silent, deep-cover engineering, ascended rapidly through the newly cleared sky of Demise Country. Below them, Valmorah City was shrinking, a dark smudge of trauma and hope beneath a vast, indifferent expanse of stars.
Curse Blonde piloted the craft, her eyes fixed on the distant navigational markers that charted the course toward the hostile skies of the Northern Coalition capital, Veridia. The lightweight stealth suit, woven with magnetic dampeners, felt like a second skin, a profound contrast to the heavy Elite Team armor she had shed.
"We are officially crossing the global defense perimeter," Valis reported from the co-pilot console, his voice quiet. "The Coalition grid is active. They haven't detected the Skiff yet. Mara's technology is clean."
Curse didn't reply immediately. She was looking back at the last visible point of her homeland. She could almost make out the smoking crater of the Hollow Spire and the inert, black mass of the Citadel.
"Kael, Torvin, Lyra, Elara," Curse finally whispered, reciting the names of the small, defiant team they had left behind. "They are holding the city against the Coalition landing forces right now. They need us to succeed."
Valis placed a hand on her shoulder, a gesture of quiet support. "They know the risk. Kael will be able to buy them time. The Coalition will move cautiously; they still don't fully understand the Ether physics of the collapse. They'll try to seize the Citadel intact, which is exactly why Kael and the Watch are there. They'll draw the invasion to the ruins."
The gravity of their choice was immense. They had abandoned the immediate defense of the liberated nation to pursue a diplomatic, yet ultimately more dangerous, goal: exposing the global conspiracy.
"The Veridia Accord," Curse muttered, repeating the name from her mother's final data drive message. "It's the key to the whole operation. It means the Coalition didn't just sell components to Alderon; they guaranteed his isolation to let him perfect the binding technology. They wanted his final product: a weaponized Silence that could neutralize any opposition."
"If we can prove their involvement, the Accord collapses, and the Coalition loses all legitimacy," Valis said, his voice hardening with focus. "It's a massive gambit, Curse. We're trading a tactical defense for a political checkmate."
👻 The Ghost Skiff and the Foreign Grid
The Ghost Skiff was proving its worth. The small vessel, crafted by Queen Mara years ago, utilized a perfected version of Ether dampening that made it virtually invisible to the high-frequency radar and Ether scanners used by the Northern Coalition. It was not a fast ship, but it was a silent one.
Their journey would take them over two major continents and vast stretches of ocean, a deep-cover infiltration into the geopolitical heart of the world.
As they began their long, slow arc over the first stretch of open water, the Skiff's proximity sensors suddenly flared—a faint, distant orange on the console.
"Contact," Valis announced, his hand moving automatically toward a non-existent weapon. "Long range. Not a ship, but a perimeter grid."
The Northern Coalition maintained a legendary, massive, invisible defense network. They were flying directly into it.
"The Coalition used a combination of kinetic dampeners and refined Ether pulses to create a 'sense' of the perimeter," Valis explained, pointing to the shifting orange light. "It's designed to make any foreign vessel feel an immediate, aggressive psychic pushback—a psychological defense before they even engage with weaponry."
Curse felt the psychic pressure immediately. It wasn't the agonizing despair of Alderon's Silence, but a cold, dismissive arrogance—the psychic signature of a hyper-efficient, self-proclaimed global authority. It felt like a gentle, but utterly immovable, hand pushing them back.
"They're testing us," Curse said, leaning into the controls. "They're trying to make us turn back without even firing a shot."
She reached down to the small sheath on her belt and pulled out the Solvane Key—the blue Ether crystal that had destroyed her father's system.
"The key is pure, uncorrupted Ether," Curse stated. "It counteracts the corrupted frequency of the Crownlight. It should work the same against this."
She carefully placed the crystal in a central monitoring slot on the console.
The moment the Solvane Key made contact with the ship's primary Ether conduit, a wave of profound calm washed over the cockpit. The annoying, arrogant pressure of the Coalition grid vanished entirely. The orange proximity light faded back to a safe green.
"The key is neutralizing their psychic signature," Valis breathed, astonished. "It's creating a bubble of pure neutrality. We are completely invisible to their 'sense' network."
"Mara knew the enemy," Curse concluded, her fingers steady on the yoke. "She knew that all grand tyrannies rely on the same, subtle corruption of will. The key is the universal antidote to control."
🌃 Veridia
Hours later, the sun rose again, bathing the world in a regular, familiar light—a light Curse hadn't seen in five years.
Before them, rising from the vast, sprawling landmass of the Northern Coalition, was the capital city of Veridia.
It was a staggering sight: a city built vertically, its structures gleaming white and silver, radiating a cool, sterile wealth. It was the complete opposite of the darkened, decaying streets of Valmorah City.
But Curse saw the underlying similarity: control. The air above Veridia was crisscrossed with thousands of precise, kinetic defense lasers and radar grids. It was a fortress of technology, whereas the Citadel was a fortress of will. Both were designed to maintain absolute order.
"We are entering the most secured airspace on the planet," Valis warned, pointing to the defense grids. "The Solvane Key protects us from their psychic scan, but not their kinetic sensors. We need to find the soft spot."
Curse pulled up the internal navigational data provided by her mother's final drive. The map highlighted a specific, vulnerable point on the city's defense line.
"The Skyline Assembly building," Curse read from the screen. "It's the Coalition's central political chamber. It sits on a massive, antique thermal conduit. Mara bypassed the original construction schematics and found a maintenance shaft—a single, unmonitored entry point leading directly into the Assembly's main floor."
"A secret door right into the global government," Valis summarized with a dry, bitter laugh. "Your mother was playing chess on a level we can barely comprehend."
"She gave us the entrance," Curse said, adjusting the controls for a deep dive. "Now, we deliver the truth. We go straight to the Assembly. The war for Demise Country is over. The war for the world's truth begins now."
Curse dipped the nose of the Ghost Skiff. They plunged downward, a silent, invisible projectile heading toward the brilliant, menacing heart of the Northern Coalition.