The mess hall had never felt this small before.

  The air was thick—suffocating—as if the walls themselves were inching closer.

  Not from stone.

  From pressure.

  A pulse ran through the palace runes—subtle enough that most people ignored it, but sharp enough that the wrong mind could hear it like a clock.

  Hina heard it.

  Not as sound.

  As countdown.

  As if something deep under the World Tree had started moving… and the castle was trying not to admit it.

  01:00 remaining.

  The number wasn’t on any wall.

  It lived behind her eyes.

  Hina stood across from Ace and Vespera.

  No giggling.

  No smile.

  No jester dance.

  Just a hard stare that pierced Ace like a hook.

  “Was I…” Hina’s voice shook, but she didn’t look away. “Just a princess on a leash?”

  Ace’s breath caught.

  Her wings twitched involuntarily.

  Hina swallowed, forcing the words out like they hurt to carry.

  “Did you follow Mother’s orders because I was frail?”

  A long, painful silence.

  Hina’s face twisted as tears began streaming down her cheeks.

  Then her voice broke open.

  “WHY DID YOU LOVE YOUR REAL SISTER MORE THAN ME?!”

  The sound tore through the room like shattered glass.

  Hina screamed—distorted and high—tears carving hot tracks down her face like everything she’d been given was fake.

  She had seen the softer side of the maid who raised her.

  She had seen Ace capable of loving a sister who shared blood.

  Hina’s nails dug into her own cheek.

  Scratching.

  Hard.

  Blood mixed with tears.

  “I hate you,” she whispered.

  “I hate you.”

  “I hate you.”

  Then the whisper snapped into a howl.

  “I HATE YOU!”

  The magic in the air cracked.

  Crimson circles flared under Hina’s feet—thorn-script, half-formed, unstable.

  Vines erupted from the floor, tearing through wood and stone like living spears.

  They shot forward—

  not to kill.

  To hold.

  One slammed into Vespera and pinned her against the wall, rings rattling in panic.

  More vines wrapped around Ace, yanking her close.

  Hina leaned in, breath shaking, and whispered like a promise she didn’t understand the weight of.

  “You’re going to show me the love you gave your sister…”

  Her eyes glittered—wet, furious, childlike.

  “…when you wake up.”

  The vines tightened.

  Ace’s vision swam.

  Not darkness—memory.

  Forced.

  Bleeding through.

  And Hina walked away from the table like she’d simply finished a conversation.

  Ace’s breathing went too fast.

  Her fingers spasmed around her hammer.

  Then the world tilted.

  And the memory began.

  In the dark behind Ace’s eyes, visuals bled through like ink in water.

  Her mother.

  Drakorya stood like a living storm—strong and terrifying, but graceful, with a temper that felt like thunder trapped behind glass.

  Black electricity crawled across her whole body.

  Shadow chains emitted from her like living restraints.

  And above her—

  rings.

  Not jewelry.

  Rings like Vespera’s, but arranged like a crown of authority:

  one floating above each wing,

  one floating above her horns.

  They revolved slowly.

  Orbiting judgment.

  The memory shifted.

  Ace saw a smaller version of Queen (codename)—her younger sister—wild and chaotic, too full of energy to sit still. Hair like she’d been born mid-storm. A black dress on a child who looked like rules were a joke.

  Then young Vespera—fourteen, shorter hair, rings hovering near her with calm obedience. Even young, she looked trained to endure.

  Then the memory snapped again—

  Dragon Queen Penny.

  Regal. Absolute. Heavy with ancient authority.

  Ace felt it in her bones: the law of the nest, the hierarchy of bloodline, the cold truth of the Dragon Kingdom.

  Ace looked down.

  Her hands were smaller.

  Everything felt wrong.

  And she realized she was seeing through the eyes of her younger self—

  the Ace who still lived inside the broken nest.

  Meanwhile—

  In the throne room, Derpy watched the two queens—Seraphine and Vaeloria—hash it out, voices rising like knives being sharpened.

  And inside Derpy’s head—

  a darker voice pressed closer.

  We need to fix this.

  Let’s take control.

  On Derpy’s left shoulder perched a tiny dragon avatar—Celica, silver-rune light in her scales, eyes sharp with contained fire.

  On his right shoulder perched another—Phantasm, violet-rune shimmer, a grin in its gaze that didn’t match the room.

  But the loudest voice wasn’t Celica.

  It wasn’t even fully Derpy.

  It was Sinister Derpy.

  And worse—

  Phantasm’s calamity presence was egging it on, pushing in sync with that darker version of him, whispering like a drug.

  You know you want to do it.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  Fix it.

  Take control.

  Derpy’s jaw tightened.

  His eyes flickered, like someone was dimming the lights behind them.

  Celica’s voice came thin—like she was trying to reach him through fog.

  “Derpy… don’t… you’re better than… this…”

  Across the room, Vemi leaned toward Vambasta, whispering urgently.

  “Something’s not right. He’s there… and then not there.”

  Vambasta’s fur bristled.

  “I don’t like this,” she growled low. “Something terrible is about to happen.”

  Her eyes tracked the tiny metal dragons perched on his shoulders.

  “And those metal dragons are sizing up everyone in the room.”

  Seraphine’s composure cracked for one raw second.

  “YOU HAVE FIVE CALAMITY BEARERS HERE AND YOU DON’T EVEN REALIZE IT!”

  Vaeloria snapped back, just as loud:

  “THEY ARE HERE DUE TO DERPY! THE ELVEN KINGDOM ONLY OWNS ECO!”

  Lieam backed up instinctively.

  And then—

  ice began creeping.

  Not random.

  Not natural.

  It crawled like a living spell from the shadows, sliding across the floor toward Lieam.

  Too fast.

  Too hungry.

  Lieam tried to lift her hands—

  tried to call on Eco—

  but the ice climbed her legs.

  Her waist.

  Her chest.

  Locking her down.

  Not killing her.

  Containing her.

  Derpy’s breathing slowed.

  A wrong laugh tried to crawl out of him.

  It didn’t fit his mouth.

  “Queens…” he said softly.

  Magic circles began to form—half-formed, unstable—like the room itself was being drafted into a ritual.

  Vemi’s ears flattened.

  Vambasta shifted forward—

  and Seraphine’s shadow moved at the same time.

  Vaeloria’s staff flared.

  Two queens reacting not to each other—

  but to the boy between them.

  Derpy lifted one hand to the right side of his face like he was holding something in.

  “Shhh… shhh… shhhh…”

  The circles trembled.

  The ice spread another inch.

  And then Celica snapped—sharp, bright, present.

  “DERPY.”

  The single word hit like a bell.

  Derpy’s eyes jerked.

  The circles stuttered.

  Not gone.

  Just… interrupted.

  Paused.

  Like a blade held above skin.

  And the room realized, all at once, what almost happened.

  Far away—

  in the Dragon Kingdom—

  Penny looked up.

  Sensing something she didn’t like.

  A newborn pressure.

  A dragon gaining a power she couldn’t name.

  Then she saw it—

  a dragon flying in.

  Queen (codename).

  Penny launched like a speeding bullet, intercepting her midair and crashing her to the ground.

  Penny stood above her.

  A claw formed—almost ending her.

  Queen submitted easily.

  “I mean no harm,” she said quickly. “I promise.”

  “I only came for a visit. I miss everyone and I want to talk things out.”

  Penny’s claw didn’t stop forming.

  Then—

  Kimpy landed beside her sister and smacked Penny on the back of the head.

  “What are you doing?” Kimpy snapped.

  Then Kimpy looked down at Queen.

  “Let’s hear why this outcast returned…”

  “Before we make any rash decisions.”

  And the chapter ended—

  with storms on three fronts:

  Hina breaking.

  Derpy almost turning.

  And the Dragon Kingdom waking up to a return they were never ready to forgive.