Valoon — Royal Palace Dining Hall

  Laughter rolled across the table like warm steam. Plates kept moving. Cups kept refilling.

  Aiko stayed glued to Isaac’s side, eyes drifting to his face every time he reacted to something—like she was memorizing him while pretending she wasn’t.

  Sasaki leaned back with a small smile. “You know what I still remember?” She pointed her fork at Isaac. “The first time you met Aiko, you tried to bow like a proper guest… and hit your forehead on the low beam.”

  Aiko’s eyes widened. “No—!”

  Sasaki continued, enjoying it. “He didn’t even flinch. Just stood up and said, ‘Your palace is… sturdy.’ Meanwhile Aiko was laughing so hard she almost dropped her tea.”

  Aiko laughed again, cheeks warm. “I didn’t almost— I DID drop it.”

  Yuno chuckled. Yoshi let out a short breath that counted as a laugh for him. Even Yamato’s mouth twitched.

  Yamato lifted his cup. “A toast. To our guest—Isaac. To our people. And to all of us still sitting here after everything.”

  Cups rose. A soft chorus of clinks.

  Yuno set her cup down first, eyes returning to business. “So, Isaac. Why come to our lands? Besides Yae… or seeing Aiko.”

  Aiko smiled, proud just hearing his name in that sentence.

  Isaac nodded once. “It’s… boring, honestly. Paperwork. I came to speak to the Overlord directly.”

  Yoshi’s gaze stayed sharp. “For you to leave your throne and come in person… it has to be big.”

  Yuno tilted her head. “Then say it.”

  Isaac’s mouth curved faintly. “Alright. I want to make Verdantia a real country. Laws. Borders. A leader—” he gave a small smile, “—or better, one leader.”

  Yamato scoffed into his drink. “Verdantia? The country with the crazy leader.”

  Isaac’s smile faded a little. “She’s not crazy.”

  He glanced at Aiko, like he was checking if she remembered the same name.

  “And you all know her,” Isaac added.

  Aiko blinked. “What…?”

  Isaac looked back to the table. “Elara is alive. And she’s ruling Verdantia.”

  For a moment, the room froze.

  Aiko’s hand tightened around Isaac’s arm. “By the gods… Isaac, are you serious?”

  “Yes,” he said. “I found her… when I was searching for Yu.”

  Yamato leaned back, eyes narrowing like he was weighing the world again. “Elara alive…” He nodded once. “I see.”

  Isaac reached into his coat and pulled out a document. “I promised her I’d do it. I’d give Verdantia to her and her people—officially. To make it legal, I need signatures from the big leaders.”

  He slid the paper forward.

  Yoshi read fast. “You already got Oceros.”

  Yuno smirked. “The most stubborn one.”

  Yamato didn’t smile. He stared at the paper, then at Isaac, and slowly stood up.

  The table went quiet again.

  Yamato held out his hand. “Give it.”

  Isaac paused, then passed it over.

  Yuno shifted. “Yamato, wait—”

  Yoshi’s voice was low. “We should talk first.”

  Yamato didn’t even look at them. He took a small blade, nicked his thumb, and wrote his name in blood—calm, firm, final.

  Then he placed the paper back on the table like it was done.

  “Enough,” Yamato said.

  Heads lowered across the room—instinct, fear, respect. Everyone except Isaac and Yu.

  Aiko lowered her head too, stiff—like she hated doing it.

  Yamato looked at Isaac again, and his voice softened just a little. “I trust you. And I trust that Verdantia will be in good hands.”

  He tapped the signed line with one finger. “Consider it thanks… for what you’ve done, son.”

  The tension released. People lifted their heads like they’d been allowed to breathe again.

  Aiko squeezed Isaac’s arm and smiled—small, relieved, happy.

  Isaac stared at the signature like it felt too easy. “Okay… thank you, Yamato.”

  Right then, the doors opened again.

  Footsteps. A tired breath.

  Ryujiro entered, shoulders tight, still dusty from travel. He bowed to the room.

  “Good evening,” he started—

  Then he saw Isaac.

  And he saw Aiko wrapped around him.

  His jaw set. His eyes hardened. He turned his face slightly away like he was swallowing something bitter.

  Yamato’s tone was sharp. “Good to see you, Ryu. How was it?”

  Ryujiro didn’t look at Isaac. “Under control, my lord.” His eyes flicked once toward the table. “I see we have visitors.”

  Yamato gestured, simple. “Yes. Isaac—this is Ryujiro. Aiko’s husband.”

  Isaac stood, careful. Aiko’s arms loosened, but she looked upset about it.

  Isaac offered his hand. “It’s good to finally meet you, Prince Ryu.”

  Ryujiro stared at the hand like it offended him.

  He didn’t take it.

  “Can’t say the same,” he said.

  Aiko’s head snapped up. “Ryu—?”

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Isaac slowly lowered his hand. His face stayed controlled. “I understand.”

  Ryujiro stepped closer—too close—voice low so it cut clean. “Don’t touch my wife again. Do you understand?”

  Isaac didn’t move back. “That a threat?”

  “A warning,” Ryujiro said, eyes cold. “King.”

  Yamato rose so fast his chair scraped.

  SCRAPE.

  His palm hit the table with a crack.

  “Enough.”

  For a blink, Yamato’s face shifted—a hint of dragon under skin—then it was gone, like he forced it down.

  Ryujiro didn’t care. He walked past Isaac like he was air and went straight to Aiko.

  Aiko stood, furious. “What are you doing?”

  Ryujiro slapped her.

  SLAP.

  The sound snapped through the hall.

  Aiko fell to the floor, hand flying to her cheek, eyes wide with shock.

  Isaac’s body went still—then his breath turned sharp.

  “What—” Isaac started, stepping forward.

  Yu stood smoothly and caught Isaac by the arm—not harsh, but firm. “Wait.”

  Isaac looked at her like he didn’t recognize her for a second.

  Yu’s voice stayed calm, almost cold. “Isaac… don’t.”

  Aiko stared up at Ryujiro, shaking, tears spilling.

  Ryujiro’s voice rose. “Never do that again. You’re married to me, not him.”

  Isaac looked around the table.

  No one moved.

  No one stepped in.

  That silence hit harder than the slap.

  Isaac’s eyes began to glow—blue creeping in, bright and angry.

  Yu tightened her grip. “Please.”

  Ryujiro lifted his hand again.

  Another slap—harder.

  SLAP.

  Something inside Isaac snapped open.

  His aura surged.

  [Berserk Mode]

  Light burned under his skin. His face began to tear halfway—heat and bone showing through. The room flinched back as the air turned heavy.

  Ryujiro finally looked scared.

  Isaac shoved Yu aside—not to hurt her, just to get free—and took one step—

  Yamato appeared in front of him like a wall, grabbing Isaac’s wrist with iron force.

  “Stop,” Yamato said, voice shaking with command. “It ends now.”

  Isaac stared at him, breathing hard, eyes blazing.

  Yamato’s eyes didn’t leave Isaac’s. “Calm down. These are our customs.” His voice dropped, rougher, almost pained. “Ryu is married to Aiko. You have to respect it.”

  Isaac’s jaw clenched so hard it looked like it might crack.

  Yamato’s tone softened—barely. “Please, son.”

  Slowly, Isaac’s glow dimmed. His body returned to normal.

  But his eyes stayed haunted.

  Yamato exhaled. “A room was prepared for you. Go rest. I’ll speak with you soon.”

  He turned his head. “Guards.”

  Two guards stepped in immediately.

  Isaac yanked his hand free from Yamato’s grip—hard enough to make the older king’s fingers flex.

  Isaac looked around the table one last time.

  At the lowered eyes.

  At the stillness.

  At Aiko on the floor, crying quietly like she was trying not to make it worse.

  “Fine,” Isaac said, voice flat. “So be it.”

  He bowed—short, cold, formal—then turned and walked out without looking back.

  Yu hesitated… then followed.

  Behind them, Yamato watched Isaac leave, and his voice dropped into something tired.

  “Take care of him, Yu,” he said. “For me.”

  Aiko stayed on the floor, trembling, hand on her cheek, tears falling onto the stone.

  Valoon — Guest Room

  Yu caught him before the door could fully shut.

  Isaac stormed in like the hall was still behind him, shoulders tight, breath hot. The guards outside bowed and pulled the doors closed—quiet, polite, like they hadn’t just watched a king almost explode in a dining hall.

  Yu followed and exhaled hard, watching him rip the cape loose.

  “Isaac… are you insane?”

  He didn’t answer. He kept moving—hands already pulling at straps, metal scraping.

  Yu stepped in front of him and grabbed his forearm, forcing him to stop long enough to hear her.

  “You were about to challenge an Overlord. In his own palace. In front of everyone.” Her eyes narrowed. “And a dragon prince.”

  Isaac’s head snapped toward her.

  “YOU SAW WHAT HE DID?” His eyes flashed, blue crawling up like heat. “He hit her. Twice.”

  “I saw.” Yu didn’t flinch. Her voice stayed low, controlled. “And I hated it.”

  That slowed him for half a second—just enough for her to keep going.

  “But it’s not our court. Not our rules. And she’s not yours anymore.” Yu tightened her grip. “She’s married here, Isaac. If you touch him, you don’t ‘save’ her. You start a war. You hand Yamato a reason to lock you up, or kill you, and call it law.”

  Isaac yanked his arm free.

  “LAW?” he spat. “That’s what you call that?”

  He tore the chest piece off and threw it. It hit the floor with a heavy clang that made the room vibrate.

  CLANG.

  Yu’s jaw flexed. “If you keep acting like this—”

  Isaac turned on her.

  “Like what?”

  “Like a spoiled child who thinks the world has to bend because he’s angry.”

  Silence cut the room.

  Isaac stared at her like she’d slapped him.

  Then his voice dropped into something sharper than a shout.

  “Spoiled?”

  His eyes burned brighter.

  “YOU DRAGONS CAN GO TO HELL.” He stepped closer, pointing at her chest, the words coming out rough. “You stand there talking about ‘customs’ while she’s on the floor. You watched them sit there and do nothing.”

  Yu’s throat moved. She held his stare, but there was a crack—tiny—like she didn’t like what she was hearing and didn’t have an easy answer.

  Isaac’s lip twitched, not a smile. A warning.

  “And you…” His voice rose again. “You disappoint me every day, Yurihime.”

  Yu’s eyes widened—hurt flashing before she could hide it.

  Isaac didn’t stop.

  “So watch your mouth, dragon.” His breathing shook. “I’m done swallowing this. I’m done pretending this is normal.”

  Yu took a step forward, voice tight. “Isaac—”

  He turned away from her like if he looked one second longer he’d do something he couldn’t take back.

  He slammed his fist into the wall.

  The stone cracked with a sharp, violent sound—chips exploding across the floor.

  CRACK.

  He stood there, knuckles flexing, shoulders rising and falling, fighting his own heat.

  Then he walked past her to the balcony, pushing the doors open like he needed air before he drowned.

  Yu stayed in the room, frozen.

  She stared at the broken wall… then at his back outside in the dark.

  And for the first time in a long time, she looked like she didn’t know what to do with him.

  (Some time later)

  Isaac sat on the edge of the balcony, elbows on his knees, head down.

  In his hand, an old photo—Joe and Kate. The edges worn. The colors faded just enough to hurt.

  He smiled at it anyway.

  Then the smile broke.

  He took a swallow from the canteen, wiped his face with the back of his hand, and stared up at the sky like the stars owed him an answer.

  Tears slipped out quiet.

  Not the dramatic kind. The kind you don’t want anyone to see.

  The kind that only comes when the truth finally lands.

  This isn’t Earth.

  This isn’t even close.

  The world below didn’t feel human. It felt ancient. brutal. bestial. Like the rules were written by claws.

  Behind him, a soft voice.

  “Isaac…” Yu whispered, careful, like she was stepping around glass.

  He didn’t turn. He kept his eyes on the sky.

  Yu moved closer. Her footsteps were small. Slow.

  “Forgive me… I—”

  Isaac swallowed, voice low.

  “Forgive me too, Yu.”

  Yu froze, surprised. Like she expected a fight again.

  Isaac breathed out, still not looking at her.

  “One thing I have to accept…” His fingers tightened around the photo. “Is that this planet—no matter how much it looks like my home… it isn’t.”

  Yu sat beside him on the edge, close enough that her shoulder almost touched his.

  Isaac pulled her into him without thinking.

  Yu’s breath hitched, and she let it happen.

  She cried a little—quiet, stubborn tears she tried to hold back.

  Isaac pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

  “I’m sorry I yelled.” His voice was rough. “You did the right thing. You stopped me from doing something stupid.”

  Yu sniffed and nodded against him.

  “And I’m sorry too.” She lifted her face just enough to look at him from the corner of her eyes. “For calling you spoiled.” She exhaled. “I know you’re not. I just… I wanted you to stop before you got yourself killed.”

  Isaac wiped his face, then wiped hers too, thumb gentle.

  He kissed her cheek.

  Then, like he was trying to prove she was real, he tapped her nose with a small smile.

  Yu’s lips twitched.

  “Isaac… stop.”

  He didn’t.

  He brushed her hair back, fingers lingering at her jaw.

  They stared at each other for a moment—quiet, close, breathing shared.

  Then Isaac leaned in.

  The kiss started soft.

  A warning kiss.

  A we’re okay kiss.

  And then it deepened—slow at first, then honest, then hungry like the tension had nowhere else to go.

  Yu’s hands slid into his hair.

  Isaac’s arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her up like she weighed nothing.

  They stumbled away from the balcony still kissing, bumping into the doorway, laughing breathlessly without meaning to.

  Isaac carried her toward the bed.

  Yu’s hair came loose, spilling over her shoulders.

  They fell onto the mattress together, tangled, mouths still finding each other.

  Isaac shifted between her legs and kissed her neck.

  Yu gasped.

  A small sound. Barely controlled.

  He pulled his shirt off—

  TOC. TOC.

  Both of them froze.

  Yu’s eyes snapped toward the door like she wanted to kill it.

  “Fuck… now?” she hissed, furious.

  Isaac exhaled, half-laughing in disbelief, and grabbed his shirt, pulling it back on fast.

  Yu rolled over and wrapped the blanket around herself like an angry burrito, hair messy, eyes burning.

  Isaac walked to the door and opened it.

  Yamato stood there, calm as ever, like he hadn’t just interrupted a disaster.

  “Isaac.” His voice was steady. “Sorry to come this late. Can I come in? I need to talk.”

  Isaac held his stare for a beat, chest still rising and falling.

  Then he stepped aside.

  Yamato entered.

  Isaac closed the door behind him and gestured toward the balcony.

  They moved outside.

  Yu stayed inside on the bed, arms crossed under the blanket, watching them with a face that promised violence.