As they moved toward the exit, the Datamancer, Emperor and Marshal followed.

  Sillicia frowned at them.

  “The cat has to stay close enough for my hooks to be in her head," Shady clarified. "The experiment I'm running requires me to stay mentally tethered to her. Otherwise the whole thing collapses and I'll have to start over."

  Sillicia's hooks caught the edge of something there—not quite a lie, but perhaps an incomplete truth. The Princess's mind was opaque in some areas, like trying to read text through frosted glass.

  The Wendigo Commander glanced at the Emperor of Earth.

  "Shady trusts me with everything," the masked human said simply. "I base my Earth-administrative decisions on things we learn together.”

  The casual intimacy of the statement made Sillicia's chest tighten. She'd commanded hundreds of kobolds, but none of them would have said such a thing, especially not the male prads. They obeyed. They served. They feared.

  Sillicia felt no fear emanating from the Emperor at all. It was very odd.

  “It was me who granted your Division that lovely vampire compound,” the Emperor added. “You're welcome.”

  “I… appreciate it,” Sillicia let out. “Thank you.”

  They walked in silence toward the alley where Corpse Seeker Kappa waited, its crystalline edges reflecting the city lights in prismatic patterns.

  Sillicia's hooks kept brushing against Aquillianne's consciousness, trying to understand the strange resonance between the Princess and her serval. It was like watching sound waves bounce between two surfaces, amplifying with each pass. The Princess's hooks held Nexxali's mind in their embrace pushing seemingly random stuff in, then organized, structured thoughts flowed back—clearer, more coherent.

  Odd. Very odd.

  The Seeker's entrance unfolded as they approached, crystalline stairs extending like a tongue. They climbed inside, and the wall sealed behind them.

  "Privacy please, Kawthy," Shady said.

  "Yes, of course. I'll be in the back chamber if you need me." She hopped away.

  The interior shifted, the organic-crystalline walls flowing to create a more intimate space. Shady settled onto one of the couches, Nexxali immediately curling against her side. Shady drew the small human into her embrace with her tail.

  Sillicia remained standing, suddenly uncertain. Her hooks extended further, reading the room's emotional landscape.

  Aquillianne: Curious. Concerned. But underneath—a deep well of genuine affection directed at both the serval and the human. Not the possessive ownership of a master toward property. Something... softer. Definitely not how fleet Commanders felt about their prads.

  Nexxali: Contentment. Security. And when her thoughts touched Shady—devotion so absolute it made Sillicia's fractal engine heart ache.

  The Emperor: The same image of a throne, the golden mask seemingly amused, staring down at the alien’s attempt to read him.

  "Sup?" Shady asked, tilting her head. "What's on your mind, Sillia?"

  Sillicia's claws clenched.

  Just ask. Just get it over with. Maybe start with something lighter-ish.

  "You have the Emperor. You have Nexxali as your... your Prima-Knight. You have Kawathra providing data support." Sillicia's words tumbled over each other. "My Marshal. My Datamancer. Somehow they're completely yours now."

  "Does that bother you?" Shady asked.

  "Yes. No. I don't know." Sillicia said. "I… Division 881 is mine to manage. And now they're… part of your household like they were never mine at all."

  "They can be part of both," Shady pointed out. "Officially, they're still assigned to Division 881. Nothing's changed on the data charts."

  "No. Everything's changed," Sillicia said flatly. "They look at you and the Emperor like... like you're the center of their world. Nexxali especially. I've never seen her that devoted to anything. And Kawathra is analyzing you two like you're the most fascinating puzzle in the universe."

  Nexxali smiled, burrowing her face into the Princess’ embrace.

  Sillicia laughed bitterly. "I worked with them for years! Conquered planets together. Bonded. Or so I thought… Because in a few days, you've made them more loyal to you than they ever were to me."

  "Is that what you want?" Shady asked quietly. "Loyalty like that?"

  "I—" Sillicia stopped. "I don't know. Maybe. I just... I've spent my entire life building something. Climbing ranks. Proving myself. Commanding a Division. And tonight I'm watching my own people bond with someone else and I realize I've never had what you have with them and never will because they're now irrevocably yours!"

  “They chose this. Just like they once chose to serve you."

  Sillicia's hooks caught something in that—a flicker of genuine sadness in the Princess's mind. Not pity, but... understanding. Recognition of a shared loneliness.

  "They never chose to serve me," Sillicia said. "They were assigned. Their worlds were dying and this was their escape. They hate it. They hate me, fear me, tolerate me. I’m not stupid. I was taught to feed on that hate and fear from birth.”

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  Sillicia's hooks pressed deeper into the emotional currents of the room, tasting the bonds between the trio on the couch. It wasn't the bitter iron of blood contracts or the acrid fear of commanded obedience.

  Voluntary affection that flowed in all directions, strengthening with each pass. An unbreakable triangle of love. She could almost see it, feel it, taste it. It pulsated sideways into the Abyss, spiraling into itself, echoing, magnifying itself.

  She’s never felt anything like it.

  "How?" Sillicia asked. "How did you make them want this? Did you create this… triangle bond between you? Is this some kind of a spell, an artifact effect?”

  "I didn't make them do anything," Shady said. "I just... offered them something different. A place where they could be more than their jobs. Home.”

  "You know what I realized tonight?" Sillicia said. "Those humans at the pizza place. They had something I've never had. They genuinely liked being together. Not because they had to. Not because contracts bound them. Just... because."

  "Yeah," the Emperor said. "That's kind of the point of friendship. Do you want to be our friend?”

  The Frontenachii Commander swallowed.

  "There's something else," Sillicia said, needing to change the subject before she drowned in her feelings and said something stupid. "Something I need to ask you about."

  Shady tilted her head, waiting.

  Sillicia took a breath. This was dangerous territory, but she had to know. Her hooks remained extended, ready to catch any deception.

  "Did you destroy the Corpse-God Citadel?"

  “...”

  Pure surprise from the Princess. Nothing from the Emperor. Likewise, a taste of shock from the serval.

  "What?" Shady asked. "What are you talking about?"

  Sillicia's hooks pressed harder, finding only honest bewilderment. The Princess genuinely had no idea what she was referring to.

  "The fleet production facility," Sillicia clarified. "On the Corpse-God Citadel. It's been badly damaged. Multiple sections completely destroyed. Every dimensional manufacturing bubble sealed off and the wards keys stolen. The Admiral..." she paused, then continued, "Admiral Evelithria suspects it was you. That’s why we chased your trail to this Earth, why the entire Third Fleet had to dedicate all of its resources to find you, Princess.”

  Shady's confusion deepened, rippling through her connection with Nexxali. The serval sat up straighter, ears rotating forward.

  "The Citadel was attacked?" Shady asked. "When? How badly?"

  Her shock felt genuine. Sillicia's hooks found no deception, no hidden knowledge. Just surprise and, underneath, a thread of worry.

  "Five days ago," Sillicia said. "The damage is... extensive. Several Master Builders died. Many dimensional bubbles popped and tons of fleet-building infrastructure were destroyed.”

  “That sounds inconvenient, surely it’ll be rebuilt,” Shady shrugged.

  "It set us far back and that damned Lissander Fox exposed everything to Omnithornia,” Sillicia sighed. “The other Omnicorps are circling us like vultures, threatening sanctions, investigation, war… The Admiral is convinced it was you. She says only someone with your specific magical signature could have bypassed the Citadel's defenses. Only a direct descendant of the Empress herself."

  “My mind is open to you,” Shady shrugged. “Do you sense deception? I don’t recall destroying anything or murdering anyone. Maybe Lissander was the one who did it. He’s a sneaky fox. were marketed as impossible to breach.”

  "Lissander Fox is clever," Sillicia admitted, "Unfortunately for you, he has an alibi this time. He hasn't left Skyfall."

  "Unless he had other help." The Emperor's modulated voice sounded thoughtful. "Someone else with the right bloodline."

  Sillicia's hooks instinctively reached for his mind again, finding that same impenetrable fortress. The golden throne. The mocking presence that deflected all attempts at deeper reading.

  "There aren't many Frontenachii with that level of access," Sillicia stated. "The Empress herself. Her direct descendants. The Legates..."

  “It could simply be the act of a madwoman,” the Emperor suggested. “Someone who lost her mind by living for far too long deep inside the Citadel. Maybe it was… Lady Zexxia. Did your Empress check on her lately? How many other Highborn Wendigos are hiding deep within the Corpse-God’s innards doing whack experiments, slowly losing their minds to entropy in time bubbles?”

  Shady radiated fear and pain at the mention of her Aunt.

  “Far too many,” Sillicia let out.

  “There you go then,” the human stated. “Go interrogate them first. My Princess is too busy managing mankind to bother annoying her relatives.”

  Sillicia considered the Emperor's words. There were indeed numerous Elder Wendigos sequestered in the depths of the Corpse-God Citadel, many of whom had been conducting experiments for centuries. The isolation and constant exposure to the Citadel's warped Aetheric fields had driven more than a few to madness.

  "You raise a valid point," Sillicia admitted. "From what I know, the investigation has been... limited in scope."

  The Emperor pressed on, leaning forward. "Let me guess—they're only looking at external threats. No one wants to suggest that one of the sacred Elders might have gone rogue."

  Sillicia's silence was answer enough.

  "Classic institutional blindness," the Emperor continued. "When something goes wrong, it's always easier to blame an outsider than examine internal rot. Your Admiral needs a scapegoat, and a runaway Princess makes a convenient target. Much simpler than admitting that the Citadel's security might be compromised from within by a bunch of Elders who lost their minds due to messing around with time."

  "You speak as if you understand our politics," Sillicia observed.

  "I understand patterns," the Emperor replied. "Every empire follows similar trajectories. My princess watched Earth’s greatest magic and mundane nations rise and fall over millennia. She understands it too.”

  Sillicia sighed.

  Furthermore," the Emperor continued, "attacking the Citadel would be strategically nonsensical for someone in the Princess's position. She's building something here—a new model of governance, a different way of managing a world. Why would she jeopardize that by provoking the Empress? It would be like... burning down your own house to spite a neighbor."

  Nexxali nodded in agreement. "The Emperor's right. Our Princess has been focused on building actual loyalty rather than forced obedience. Why would she waste time with petty revenge?"

  “Indeed,” Shady nodded regally, projecting the air of a planetary owner. “I'm too busy building something better here."

  "Building what, exactly?" Sillicia pressed. "This grand experiment of yours, managing humanity without harvesting, what's the endgame?"

  The Emperor and Princess exchanged a glance that Sillicia couldn't read through her hooks.

  "The endgame," the Emperor said slowly, "is proving that cooperation yields better results than domination. That willing partners are more valuable than enslaved resources. That forced fear-harvesting is a poor foundation for an empire."

  "Pretty words," Sillicia said. "But the fleet won't accept them. They want resources. They want power. They want—"

  "They want what they've always gotten," Shady finished. "But what if we could offer them something better? What if Earth could provide things no other world can?"

  "Such as?"

  "Innovation," the Emperor said. "Entertainment. Art. Culture. Ideas. Humans are remarkably creative when they're not being tortured. Emotional sustenance. The Fear Factory was just the start of our tour, a sample of many delights humanity can offer you.”

  “Just the start?” Sillicia raised an eyebrow. “So there’s more?”

  “There’s much more,” he said.