The steam rising from the heavy mugs of Obsidian Brew at "The Iron Bean" acted as a translucent veil, shielding the trio from the curious, soot-streaked faces of the miners in the shop. Aster sat perfectly still, his eyes reflected in the dark liquid of his coffee. Outside, the clock on the Central Refinery tower chimed—a heavy, metallic toll that reminded them of the brutal reality: only 48 hours remained until the Moon-Feast performance.
Despite the construction of the massive resonance stage and the growing whispers about an Orestian boy singing, the data Aster had collected was grim. He was investigating people's opinion on them and the concert. The result? While curious, the average Orestian was too exhausted by their labor and too cynical toward "foreign arts" to actually fill the twenty-thousand-seat arena.
"At the current rate," Aster began, his voice dropping into a register of cold, clinical calculation, "we will be performing to a graveyard. An arena that is three-quarters empty. In my experience, an empty seat isn't just a loss of revenue; it's a vacuum. It sucks the energy out of the performer and gives the critic—in this case, King Boron—every reason to declare our mission a failure. If the people don't show up, the King wins by default."
Elian looked down at his trembling hands. "They don't want me, Prince Aster. I'm just a boy who used to rhyme for copper coins. Why would a hard working miner leave his home to hear me?"
"They won't leave for you yet, Elian," Aster replied, a sharp, predatory glint entering his eyes. "Humans are naturally attuned to patterns, but they are obsessed with anomalies. We are going to give this nation an anomaly they cannot ignore. We aren't going to ask them to come to the music; we are going to bring the music to every single corner of the kingdom."
***
Astra leaned in, sensing the shift in her brother's aura. Whenever Aster spoke with this much precision, a revolution—or a disaster—was about to follow. "You have a plan for the audience? We've already distributed the flyers and the Sound-Bites."
Aster pulled a piece of parchment from his coat and laid it on the stone table. It was a topographical map of the Orestian mountain range. He pointed to the highest, most jagged spire that pierced the clouds—the Sentry's Crown.
"There is a cave at the very summit," Aster said. "The natives call it the Echoing Vault. Geologically, it is a freak of nature—a series of high-frequency crystalline chambers that act as a natural amplifier. Because of the way the northern wind currents hit the peak, any sound made inside that cave is caught in a high-frequency loop and projected downward, echoing across the entire valley for miles."
Astra's eyes widened. "You want to put a Harmonic player device device there? Like a broadcast tower?"
"Exactly. I have developed a specialized Harmonic Resonance Device. It's small, but when placed in the Vault, it will use the cave's natural geometry to amplify a low-frequency melody. For the next two days, the entire nation will hear a haunting, ethereal sound. It won't be loud enough to be annoying, but it will be constant. It will sound like the mountain itself is singing. By the time the Moon-Feast arrives, the people will be so desperate to find the source of the 'Mountain's Voice' that they will flock to the arena just to see if the mystery is solved there."
Astra frowned, her mind racing through the logistics. "Aster, the Sentry's Crown is nearly three thousand meters of vertical obsidian. The air is thin, and the climb is notorious. Even the most elite Orestian mountaineers take three days to reach the Cave near the top. How can we get there, set the device, and get back in one night? We only have two days left."
"And there's the other problem," Aster added, his voice dropping even lower. "The Sentry's Crown is 'Sacred Ground.' The High Council believes it's where the spirits of the ancestors reside. Tampering with the acoustics of the peak is technically a Level One Cultural Crime. If we are caught, the King won't just win the wager; we'll be lucky if we aren't imprisoned for life."
Elian's face went pale. "A crime? Prince Aster, I... am I going to jail. if we get caught"
"We won't get caught," Aster said with absolute certainty. "Because we aren't going to climb it. We're doing something else. But to do that, we need the help of someone who knows the 'pockets' of the mountain's wind—someone who can bypass the anti-air wards."
Astra asked, "Can any human climb that mountain that fast"
***
"I have a plan for that, But the Princess should agree to help us, otherwise we can't do anything"
"How can she help us if it's a crime?" Astra asked, her worry deepening. "She's the Princess. Even if she likes us, asking her to help us commit a 'Crime' is a massive risk. And technically, even she shouldn't be able to reach the highest peak that fast without being spotted by anybody."
Aster stood up, tossing a few silver coins onto the table. "Lumine is a Kingscrown-level talent trapped in a kingdom that treats her like a decoration. She's bored, Astra. And more importantly, she's a Sensor. She can sense the 'disharmony' in this city better than anyone. I suspect she's been waiting her whole life for someone to ask her to do something dangerously creative."
They left the coffee shop, the cold air of the Orestian "Upper Tier" hitting them like a physical weight. The contrast between this gritty, soot-stained world and the golden, peaceful training grounds of Wynfall—where Lea and Rain were likely finishing their drills—felt sharper than ever.
As they walked toward the palace, Aster explained the technical side of the "flight" to Astra.
"There is no need for us to reach that peak, If what I am thinking is possible, Then the plan will become a whole lot easier."
"Now the only thing that matters is, whether the princess will agree to help us or not"
They reached the Royal Gardens, a rare patch of green maintained by geothermal heat. Princess Lumine was there, standing on a stone pedestal. Her pink hair whipped around her face as she held her hands out, sensing the evening air. She looked like a bird preparing for flight.
"Princess Lumine!" Aster called out, his voice cutting through the wind.
The girl turned, her rose-quartz eyes lighting up with delight. "Aster! Astra! And my favorite little singer! What are you three doing out here? I thought you'd be practicing until your lungs gave out."
Aster walked toward her, his expression uncharacteristically grave. "Lumine, we don't have much time for pleasantries. We have a problem. The audience interest for the Moon-Feast is too low. My wager is at risk, and Elian's future is on the line."
Lumine hopped down from the pedestal, her expression softening. "I know. My father's advisors were laughing about it over dinner. They think the 'Snowflakes' have finally hit a wall of Orestian iron."
"If we hit the walls, then all we need to do is climb over it Lumine. ," Aster said, stepping closer. "But I need your help. I have a plan to wake this city up. It involves the Echoing Vault at the top of the Sentry's Crown. I need to place a harmonic device there by tonight."
Lumine's smile vanished, replaced by a look of shock. "The Vault? Aster, that's... that's the Crown of the Ancestors. No one is allowed there without the king's permission. If you go there without permission, it's a crime. My father would have to punish you."
"I know," Aster said, unfazed. "And I know that technically, even with a Pegasus, you aren't supposed to be able to get there that fast. But I also know that you've been bored since the day we arrived. You want to see what happens when this mountain finally hears a real song, don't you?"
Astra stepped forward, her voice soft but persuasive. "Lumine, we aren't trying to desecrate your home. We're trying to save it from the silence. If the people hear the mountain sing, they'll remember that they are more than just miners. They'll remember life is not all about mining."
Lumine looked at Astra, then back at Aster. She bit her lip, her sensor-magic tingling as she felt the "pressure" of the plan. "How would we even do it? ."
"I have a plan, I found out about it, when I read a book about different types of ancient magic aptitudes, Just try doing what I tell, I think you will get the hang of it soon"
Lumine looked up at the dark, jagged silhouette of the Sentry's Crown. The peak looked cold and forbidden, a judge sitting over the city. A thrill of fear—and excitement—ran through her.
"This is crazy," Lumine whispered. "If we get caught, I'll be grounded for a year. My father will take away my Music players, and everything I love. I'll be forced to marry some boring Duke from the South Mines."
"Then don't get caught," Aster replied.
Lumine looked at Elian, who was watching her with wide, pleading eyes. She thought about the dull, grey life she had led before the silver-haired twins arrived with their music and their impossible theories.
"Alright," Lumine said, her rose-quartz eyes sparking with mischief. "I'll help. "
Astra let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. "Thank you, Lumine."
"Don't thank me yet," Lumine said, her voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper. "We still have yet to finish the job successfully."
Aster adjusted his coat, looking perfectly composed. "Wait. First, let's go see the princess's private hangar and prepare the gear. I will explain everything later... but for now, we have a kingdom to wake up."
As they hurried through the shadows of the palace gardens, leaving the relative safety of the guest wing behind, the atmosphere shifted. The "Prince's Wager" was no longer just a trade deal or a musical performance. It was a heist.
Aster looked at the dark peak one last time. In his past life, he had seen a lot of marketing campaigns, billboards, and radio ads. Here, he was going to use the world's largest natural amplifier to stage the ultimate "viral" event.
The countdown had hit forty hours. The game had truly begun finally.
***