The air aboard the Union's flying vessel hung heavy with tension as Moyo and Josh stood among the faction's leaders. Below, the sprawling city of Aegis, the Union's militarized capital, hummed with the activity of soldiers, aura users, and aether-powered constructs. The air carried a metallic tang, a byproduct of the countless war machines operating within the city's walls.
Moyo sat across from Consul Cassandra, her piercing yellow eyes locked on him with an intensity that rivaled the noon sun. Beside her, Proconsul Isiah Bladewright sat stiffly, his aura bristling with barely restrained aggression. Josh stood at Moyo's side, unmoving but watchful, his sentinel hammer, Gravemaw, radiating a subtle hum of power.
A servant appeared with a tray of roasted meats, buttered bread, and wine. Moyo raised an eyebrow at the sight, his curiosity piqued.
"You have wine?" he asked, almost incredulous.
Cassandra inclined her head, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. "When your faction is as large as ours, you tend to find individuals with unique paths and talents. One of ours produces quite excellent vintages."
Moyo sipped from the glass, savoring the flavor. For a brief moment, he let the calm settle over him. But it wasn't long before the storm resumed.
"Do you agree now that our earlier fiasco was pointless?" Moyo asked, breaking the silence.
Cassandra exhaled deeply, crossing her legs as she leaned back in her chair. "Half the Union Council considers you a threat," she began. "It's no secret that you are the strongest ascender on our planet—for now. But the Union is not a dictatorship. I cannot control every action of its powers. My election as Consul was based on influence and strength, but even that doesn't grant me absolute authority."
"So, you're saying the Union is just a collection of smaller factions pretending to be one?" Moyo asked, his tone tinged with skepticism.
Cassandra's smile didn't falter. "We are more than that, Lord Titan Blade. We are the strongest faction on Earth. Our military might is uncontested, even by the barbaric Iron Federation of the north."
Moyo swirled his wine, watching its dark red hues ripple under the light. "I see. And yet, your grand vision involves subduing the rest of the world's factions?"
A faint flicker of irritation crossed Cassandra's face. "I see I've done a poor job of painting the Union in a favorable light. But tell me, Lord Titan Blade, have you heard of the Jade Empire? The remnants of the Asian nations?"
"A little," Moyo replied, his tone guarded.
"They are united under a single ascender—the Dragon of the East—who wields his power through four generals, each named after a season. Their regime is ruthless, and they have crushed the spirit of their people under blood and fire."
"And yet," Josh interrupted, his voice like a blade, "you've allied with them."
"Keep your friends close and your enemies closer," Isiah replied, his tone laced with condescension.
"Would you have us invade them?" Cassandra asked, her tone softening. "Rain destruction upon them in the name of liberation, as the former Western powers once did? Or do you expect us to unite with them simply because you say so?"
Moyo leaned forward, setting his glass down with deliberate care. "I expect us to work together to repel the threats coming for us. Do you think the system cares for your politics or alliances?"
"And we're to take your word for it?" Cassandra pressed; her tone icy. "You expect us to follow your lead, yet you've shared little of the truths you claim to hold."
Moyo drummed his fingers on the table, a faint frown forming on his face. "One thing you seem to misunderstand, Consul, is that I am not interested in playing politics. I came here in good faith, seeking collaboration—not to be treated like a rogue element in need of containment."
"Collaboration," Cassandra echoed with a wry smile. "From where we stand, it looks as though Bastion seeks to monopolize power. You built the first aether gate, you hold the blueprints to our flying warships, and your ascenders grow stronger with each passing day. Yet, you want us to bend the knee?"
Moyo's gaze turned distant as he leaned back in his chair. "Tell me, Consul, have you ventured into the yellow and red zones?"
Both Cassandra and Isiah hesitated, confusion flickering across their faces.
"What are you getting at?" Cassandra asked warily.
"The zones that remain untouched only because of our world's rank," Moyo said evenly. "The ones where creatures stronger than anything you've faced roam free. Have you taken your mighty warships and ventured there?"
The silence that followed was damning.
"You boast of your power, yet you hide behind machines and politics," Moyo continued, his tone sharpening. "Do you think the system rewards shortcuts? Your reliance on technology will be your undoing."
Cassandra's power flared briefly, her glowing eyes narrowing. "Mind your tone, Lord Titan Blade."
Before she could continue, a tiny spider appeared on Moyo's shoulder, vanishing in a burst of aether. In its place stood one of Martha's spiders, a masked figure who bent low to whisper in Moyo's ear.
Moyo nodded, his expression darkening. "It seems your Shadowtide, the one you call Proconsul Elara, has raised your security protocols to tier 5. I suppose I should be flattered."
"Were you spying on us?" Cassandra demanded, her voice rising. Her aura flared, her frustration boiling over.
"You infiltrated my city first," Moyo replied coldly. "Consider this payback."
Isiah stepped forward, his aura bristling with aggression. "We told you that was not sanctioned by the Council!"
"And I couldn't care less," Moyo shot back, rising to his feet. The room grew heavier as his own aura surged, purple light spilling into the air. The skies above the vessel mirrored his mood, darkening with a faint violet hue.
"I came here to foster cooperation, but all I've met is hostility. You think I'm a threat? Fine. Stay here and play your games. But when the system's greater powers come—and they will come—you'll see the price of your arrogance."
Cassandra rose slowly, her expression unreadable. "Wait," she said, her voice quieter but firm. "Why should we trust you, Titan Blade? What reason have you given us?"
Moyo paused, turning his glowing gaze on her. "Trust your machines, your alliances, your politics. But know this: the system doesn't care for your squabbles. Grow stronger as individuals, or die as factions. The choice is yours."
Without another word, the blue glow of an aether gate flared to life behind him. With Josh and the spider at his side, Moyo stepped through, disappearing into the swirling light.
As the gate closed, Cassandra stood in silence, her clenched fists the only sign of the turmoil brewing within her.
**************
The aether gate returned Moyo to its original location, but the area had transformed in his brief absence. A massive wall now encircled the structure, its gleaming surface etched with runes of protection and energy, while workers hurried about, preparing it for public use. Moyo's mind churned with frustration as he walked through the sentinels stationed around the gate, their respectful bows met with only a faint nod as he continued towards Bastion's inner sanctum.
The throngs of people in the streets greeted him with reverence, bowing deeply as he passed. Moyo acknowledged them with brief, absent-minded gestures, unwilling to let his mounting irritation show. A shared glance with Josh was all it took; Moyo activated Titan Walk and appeared instantly outside the Grand Hall's towering silver and gold doors, the sentinels there dropping to one knee in unison as he entered.
The Grand Hall of Bastion never ceased to amaze Moyo. Its soaring silver and gold columns supported a ceiling of stunning glass panels, which scattered sunlight into prismatic hues that danced across the polished floor. Officials and workers bustled about, their tasks pausing momentarily to give way to their titan, who moved with quiet intensity towards the secluded chambers reserved for Bastion's leadership.
The office doors—crafted from black metal inlaid with intricate golden patterns—stood as a gateway to the heart of Bastion's governance. Beyond them lay the inner chambers, where Martha sat at her desk, her pen gliding swiftly across parchment. Beside her, a spider from her faction stood in eerie silence, blending into the shadows as if part of them. Martha looked up at his entrance, a smirk playing on her lips.
"I heard your meeting was... entertaining," she said, amusement gleaming in her eyes.
"I'm glad you found it so," Moyo replied, sinking into a chair with barely restrained anger. His expression was grim, his fists clenching at his sides.
Martha exhaled softly, setting her pen down. "My lord, the Union was never going to agree to your proposals," she said matter-of-factly. "They consider themselves too powerful to submit to any terms but their own. If they had their way, we would be the ones beneath them."
Moyo ran a hand through his hair, trying to temper his frustration. "When were you going to tell me you sent one of your spiders with me?" he asked, his tone sharper than intended.
Martha leaned back in her chair, her smirk widening. "Ah, the Shadowtide. She thought herself clever, believing her darkness impenetrable. I merely sent my spider to remind her that our webs catch all prey."
Moyo shook his head, his brows furrowed. "We need to be cautious. Sabotage could cripple us if we're not prepared."
Martha's eyes gleamed with a mischievous light. "It's why the spider didn't just observe, my lord. It stole vital information about their faction and their aether tech. Turns out, the Union is more fractured than they let on. Their espionage division—those who call Luminar home—have been spying on Valiance, their industrial hub, as well as Zenith, their mana research region."
Moyo leaned forward, his interest piqued. "So Cassandra is just a figurehead?"
Martha tilted her head. "Not quite. She does wield significant power, but not total control. The Union's regions function more like feuding siblings under one roof—united only because it's convenient for now."
"They also mentioned the Jade Empire during the meeting," Moyo said, recalling the exchange.
Martha's playful demeanor faded, replaced by a sharp seriousness. "A brutal regime, led by someone who fancies himself a god—the Jade Emperor Reborn. He's rallied the remnants of the Asian nations under his banner, crushing opposition with the help of his Four Seasonal Generals."
"And his rank?" Moyo asked, already suspecting the answer.
"Peak acolyte," Martha replied flatly.
Moyo snorted. "Yet they speak of him like he's invincible."
"It's his methods," Martha explained. "Terror, blood, and fire. The Union spies on them but has also established ties—likely to trade one empire's dominance for another. They've even offered the Jade Empire one of their sky vessels in exchange for help subjugating the Bharat Empire."
"The Bharat Empire..." Moyo mused. "That's India?"
"Not entirely," Martha clarified. "It's a melting pot of cultures—Indians, remnants of the West, and some from the Arab world as well. They're a blend of traditions, much like Bastion."
"Then can we speak to whoever leads them?" Moyo asked.
"Already ahead of you," Martha said, pressing a control on the broad table between them. A holographic notification flickered into life, signalling an incoming transmission. Moyo locked his fingers together, nodding for her to proceed.
The holographic image resolved into the figure of a woman whose regal bearing and ethereal beauty immediately captured attention. Her cream-colored skin was adorned with kohl-lined eyes and lips painted black, emphasizing her otherworldly allure. She wore a flowing light gown tied at the waist, and at her sides floated flaming limbs, each wielding a different weapon, like a deity from Hindu mythology.
Beside her stood an Arab-looking man, dressed in an ornate golden robe and carrying a curved blade at his side. His glowing red eyes seemed to pierce the space between them, a silent warning of his power. Behind them, the shimmering backdrop of gold and crystalline architecture spoke of opulence and strength.
The woman inclined her head, her voice calm yet commanding. "Lord Titan Blade, we've been expecting your call."
Moyo nodded. "And I am grateful you've answered. With whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?"
"I am Rajmala, the Voice of Bharat," she replied. "Beside me stands Asim al-Karim, the Blade of the Desert."
"I appreciate your willingness to meet," Moyo began. "I'll be direct. Our world is on the precipice of something catastrophic. We must stand together if we are to survive."
Rajmala's expression remained neutral. "You speak of unity, yet the factions of this world are fractured beyond repair. Why should Bharat stand with Bastion, or anyone else, for that matter?"
"Because the system doesn't care about our politics," Moyo replied evenly. "The invasions coming for us won't ask about alliances or territories. They'll crush us all the same."
Rajmala exchanged a glance with Asim, her flaming limbs flickering slightly. "An intriguing claim. But forgive my skepticism, Lord Titan Blade. The last time a faction called for unity, it ended with half the world in ruin."
Moyo held her gaze. "Then let Bastion show you what we've built—a true sanctuary, a city of strength. Let us prepare together, or we will fall apart, one faction at a time."
The room fell silent, the weight of his words hanging heavy. Finally, Rajmala inclined her head. "We will consider your offer. But know this, Lord Titan Blade—Bharat bows to no one."
"Good," Moyo said, standing. "Because neither does Bastion."
The transmission ended, leaving the room in silence as Moyo turned back to Martha, his mind already racing.
Moyo reclined in his chair, rubbing his temples as he let out a small chuckle. "Well, that was short and to the point," he said, glancing at Martha, who nodded in agreement.
"The Voice of Bharat doesn't waste words," Martha replied. "Her rule is as fair as it is ironclad. It's the only reason Bharat has held firm against the Jade Empire."
Moyo frowned. "I don't understand. They're continents apart, aren't they? How are they even at war?"
Martha sighed, leaning forward. "The Union has been assisting the Jade Empire, providing logistics and deploying its forces deep into Bharat's territory. It's partly to curry favor with the so-called Dragon of the East, but I suspect it's also a ploy to weaken Bharat. If Bharat falls into enough chaos, it will be forced to rely entirely on the Union for survival."
"Sounds exactly like something the Union would do," Moyo muttered, drumming his fingers on the table. "What's next? Should we reach out to the remaining factions?"
Martha nodded. "The Iron Federation. I'll initiate the call."
The Iron Federation was a frigid land ruled by Jarl Urvan of the Twice Frozen, a stern, aloof figure known for his Path of the Frozen Axe. The initial contact hadn't gone smoothly. Urvan seemed enraged that Bastion dared to call him directly, and the icy disposition of his daughter and assistant, Tatiana of the Frozen Spear, did little to ease the tension.
Tatiana, with her snow-white hair, pale features, and piercing blue eyes, stared coldly through the holographic screen, her presence as intimidating as her father's. But with patience—and Martha's diplomatic intervention—the conversation found a tentative footing.
Urvan had been clear about his terms: Bastion must cut all trade ties with the Union to gain the Federation's trust. Moyo, initially tempted to agree, was halted by Martha, who skillfully redirected the conversation. She assured the Jarl that the Union was their mutual adversary, and any remaining ties were strictly tactical.
The negotiations eventually led to an alliance, with the Iron Federation offering meat and leather in exchange for crops and plants found in Bastion's warmer climes. The Jarl's gruff demeanor softened slightly by the end of the discussion, though his frostbitten pride remained intact.
As the call ended, Moyo leaned back, a grin spreading across his face. "Nice folk."
Martha rolled her eyes. "Of course, you think so. Two muscleheads bonding over war stories. Why am I not surprised?"
Moyo chuckled. "It's all about mutual respect."
With the Iron Federation secured, only the Jade Empire remained. However, their response was curt and dismissive:
"The Jade Empire does not recognize the sovereignty of Bastion."
Moyo stared at the message, his expression neutral. "As we suspected," he said, exhaling slowly.
Martha watched him carefully. "What do you want to do about it?"
"Nothing," Moyo replied, shaking his head. "I won't make the first move. Not unless they give me a reason to."
Martha nodded, respecting his decision, though the tension in the air was palpable.
"Come," Martha said, her tone cryptic as she rose from her seat. "I want to show you something."
Moyo followed her out of the office and down a corridor until they reached an unassuming panel on the wall. Martha tapped it, and the wall slid aside with a quiet hiss, revealing a hidden passageway descending into darkness. Moyo raised an eyebrow.
"This was recovered after your battle with the Necromancer and that wyvern," she explained as they stepped into the passage. "When we brought you back, we didn't come back empty-handed."
The passage led to a vast underground chamber where a macabre display awaited him. Against the far wall stood the skeletal remains of Valtha, stripped of flesh and gleaming under the chamber's aether lighting. The enormous rib cage arched high; each bone polished to an unnatural sheen.
Moyo stopped, staring in silence. "Valtha," he murmured softly, the name tasting bitter on his tongue.
Martha nodded. "The bones of your enemy. I know it's grisly, but I thought they could be useful."
Moyo approached the skeleton, his fingers brushing against a rib bone nearly as large as his forearm. He hadn't realized during the battle just how massive the wyvern had been, and the sight left him marveling at his own survival. Perhaps it had been thanks to the restricted authority he'd tapped into—a mystery he still needed to unravel.
"What do you want to do with them?" Martha asked, watching him closely.
Moyo turned to her, his eyes gleaming with resolve. "Take them to Boyle. Let's see what wonders he can craft from them."
Martha smiled, nodding as she pressed another button on the wall, summoning workers to begin the careful process of transporting the skeleton. Moyo lingered for a moment longer, his mind flickering back to the battle and the cost it had exacted.
"Power is never without consequence," he muttered to himself, turning back to Martha. "Let's get to work."