Heka's meeting room felt smaller tonight.

Its stone walls, after being upgraded, now glowed with Vaylora-lit veins. Any other day, this leap forward in tech would have been cause for celebration, but now these walls seem to press on them like a tomb. The circular table glowed faintly, empty of documents or projections. For once, no one needed records. They had all witnessed the same thing.

Mawu's fingers drummed softly against the table, each tapping a pulse of unease. "The world saw gods descend into their house of order. They saw nearly everything they've built unravel in a single afternoon. I doubt their alliance lasts three months."

Duendes exhaled through his nose, sharp and cutting. "Some won't wait that long. We're already getting reports—nations seeking back channels to Firmatha. Quiet envoys, secret deals, leaders eager to sell out their neighbors for their protection." Luckily, so far, no one other than Heka themselves had the means of communicating directly with Firmatha Sanguar.

Stefan's voice was low and grim. "And if they succeed, we'll be fighting on two fronts: monsters without, and humans who've chosen the dragon's leash within."

Duendes threw up his hands. "Lord Cefketa framed himself as their arbiter. They weren't a nation seeking recognition, but a sovereign demanding tribute. That fear will see some of them cowed into submission. Too many."

Mawu rubbed her temple. "Markets spiral daily. Churches flood with worshippers. Some nations are already fractured. Zac didn't just strike fear—he loosened the seams of the world." Mawu chuckled in derision and then added,

"I always thought that his gaining abilities would make him lose his edge. It just made him even sharper."

Selistar leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. "It's not all bad. The world also saw you," he said to the Trinity. "You were not intimidated. You stood strong as leaders of Heka. That matters more than you realize."

Stefan's voice was lower, heavier. "It also paints a target on your backs. If Cefketa falters, humanity will look to you to fill the gap. If he succeeds, you become his rivals. Either path ends in blood."

Leonie's hands clenched in her lap. "Then what is the alternative? To sit idle? To wait while he shepherds humanity into his claws?"

Mythara's rose-gold eyes gleamed in the chamber light. He had been silent until now, his expression unreadable. When he spoke, it was calm, but every syllable carried iron.

"Cefketa has forced a new world order. In three months, their leaders will walk through Firmatha Sangaur. It will be no negotiation—it will be a spectacle. A theater where humanity learns what it means to live beneath dragons."

Seren's lips pressed tight. "And what of us? Do we march beside them? Do we lend credibility to this mockery?"

Amaterasu rose first, her voice steady though her fists trembled at her sides. "No. We must make ourselves present. But we will not kneel. We are Heka, we must show we are equals."

Watabe's jaw tightened, his tone sharp. "If we don't make ourselves indispensable, humanity will cling to Cefketa out of fear. We must show them that Heka is their only chance to stand on equal ground."

Shango leaned forward, arms crossed on the table, his calm breaking into something harder. "Then what we need to do is obvious, yeah? We prepare to see Firmatha with our own eyes. Not to bend the knee, but to ensure that when humanity looks for strength, it is Heka they see. Not them."

The room fell into silence again, but this silence was different. Not paralysis. Resolve. A low murmur of agreement circled the table. Yet Mythara leaned back, silent, his thoughts circling. He should have been satisfied. The UN's leash had snapped. The Seats had terrified the world into recognizing Heka's necessity.

Even Cefketa's invitation to Firmatha played into his designs. Everything was aligning—too perfectly. A chill coiled in his chest. Was this his victory, or Cefketa's hand guiding them onto the stage? Were they shaping the world—or being herded into the jaws of a trap?

Mythara closed his eyes, quieting the dread. When he opened them, he spoke with calm authority.

"Three months. That is the time we have to anchor Heka—not only in the eyes of the UN, but in the hearts of humanity. If we fail, they will gladly walk themselves into his jaws. If we succeed…" His rose-gold eyes burned faintly. "Then the world will be ours to shape."

The room held its breath. The glow of the Vaylora veins painted every face with shifting light, as though the chamber itself was listening.

Mawu broke the silence, her voice low but resonant. "Three months is not time—it is a heartbeat. We must choose carefully what battles to fight."

Duendes leaned back, shadows carving hard lines into his sharp features. "Then it begins with a narrative. Currently, the world views Heka as defiant children, while Cefketa presents himself as their master. We need to alter that. We need their faith, or at least their fear turned in our direction."

Selistar shook his head. "Not fear. Dependence. Show them what only Heka can offer—defense, stability, a future not dictated by a dragon's whim. We become the shield they cannot live without."

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

"Which means," Stefan said grimly, "we must prove we can stop something like the seats—. We need victories. Monsters slain, crises contained. Something undeniable."

Leonie's eyes softened, though her voice was steel. "And stories. Not just footage. Not just politics. Heroes. Humanity must see you not as rulers, but as people who bleed for them. They must believe we are theirs."

Watabe's hands tightened on the table. "Then we have a course of action. We'll take on missions as usual. Now we start tackling the ones we have been hesitant to deal with till now. And we'll show it all. We'll let humanity see exactly what it is that we do, and what we will continue to do."

Shango leaned forward, his calm eyes steady. "And then what? Once they have developed a dependency on us, what comes next? When they ask who leads, who governs?"

Amaterasu exhaled, her tone quiet but firm. "Then we show them Heka is more than power. That we Persequions are not their rulers, we are councils. We rule with them, not over them. That is how we stand apart from Sensei."

The chamber fell into another silence, but this time it was heavy with momentum. Mythara looked at them all through narrowed eyes. A thought gnawed in the back of his mind. Why are they so anxious to fight over something that doesn't belong to them? This is a fight between him and Cefketa for ownership of this world. Why are these humans involving themselves so intently?

Perhaps that was the flaw of humans—they believed survival alone gave them ownership. They mistook endurance for right. But the world did not belong to those who endured. It belonged to those strong enough to seize it.

Mythara closed his eyes and calmed himself. Regardless of his thoughts, whether the world was his or not, he never intended to rule over it. These were instincts of a Dragon, threatening to control his very being. These feelings had begun to intensify as time passed. Was it because he was approaching his first shedding?

"Focus," he thought to himself. He then turned to the others.

"So be it. In three months, the world will walk into Firmatha Sangaur. But when they do, their hearts and hopes must already belong to us."

He leaned back, gaze sweeping across the circle of faces—the elders, the Trinity. He then focused on Leonie, Stefan, and Selistar, "I'm sure you three still have connections in the human world, correct?"

"If anything, our collective stocks have gone up, once it became known that we are Persequions," Selistar responded, as Mythara nodded his head in understanding.

"Alright, then use those connections to get us in touch with any major streaming service. We'll be live broadcasting Chases from now on." Mythara smirked.

Stefan's frown deepened. "Broadcasts will rally some… but they will also paint targets on us. Governments won't thank us for airing their failures to their people."

"Broadcasts will make us idols," Leonie warned. "Idols crack the moment they falter."

"Better idols than shadows," Shango countered. "Shadows can't lead, love."

Even Mawu's voice carried doubt: "You'll feed the beast of public opinion. One failure, one child crushed on live broadcast, and the same masses who praise you would rather spit in your face."

Mythara only smirked because he had already weighed those risks. "Then we don't fail."

The others all nodded their heads in understanding. The quickest way to spread their influence over the masses would be the media, both social and traditional. As the others began to plan what missions would be the flashiest for them to undertake at this time, Mythara was in deep thought. He stared at Selistar for an uncomfortable length of time.

"Mythara?" Selistar called out to him as he noticed.

"About what you asked earlier. About teaching you all about Vaylora." Mythara started.

"You don't need to worry about that?" Selistar interrupted him.

"I do… we need all the power we can get, we can't afford to hold anything back anymore. " Mythara countered.

"That's not what I meant." Selistar smiled as a System appeared above his palm. It was rather complex in form. It was clearly a little rough around its edges, but it was further along than what Mythara would think possible for someone just starting out on learning how to use Vaylora and Systems.

"How?" Mythara asked, and the Trinity looked at Selistar with a shocked expression. A sword appeared in his hand. Everyone there noticed that it was the ancient blade he used when he fought Lord Cefketa 2 years ago. He had used or even looked at it since the Fury of Dreams. That sword was a symbol of the Persequions' leader, and he didn't feel worthy of wielding it since that day.

"I was the greatest talent born to Heka before Mythara came along. Zac, whether he meant to or not, left me a hint." Selistar looked at Mythara and smiled,

"After our last talk. I decided to stop running from what happened." Selistar stared into the etching on the blade as they began to light up in his grip.

"Hmm, and here I was going to offer my assistance." A different voice echoed into the room as Roratha appeared in the room. Everyone turned towards her, and Mythara asked,

"You'd help them? I-I thought my lessons didn't stick?" Mythara responded.

He had long since tried to teach his parents how to use Vaylora. However, his explanation didn't seem to stick with them. He had stopped trying about 6 months in as he tried to come to a better understanding, before trying again.

"No, it stuck, it was all just… rather hard to digest. But once we did." Roratha made a motion with her finger, and a highly complex System appeared behind her.

Seren gasped and covered her mouth. Leonie whispered, "Impossible."

Mythara stood up from his seat, staring into the System created by his mother.

It wasn't just on par with his early work—there were flourishes, patterns he had not considered himself. Mythara wondered if he was looking not at a student, but at a rival. This was already a high-level System. Mythara smiled as he looked at his mother with pride.

"You're father's even more skilled with System crafting than I am. I'm sure we can teach the others the basics at least." Roratha said as she looked over at The Trinity.

They were in the same boat as Mythara when it came to teaching Vaylora and Systems. It all came too naturally for them to give proper instruction. But with the struggles Selistar, Roratha, and The Bone Collector had gone through, they should be able to handle instruction.

"Then we can leave basic instruction to you three, then." Amaterasu was the one to speak. The thought had weighed on her mind as well. They might be moving towards war; they couldn't afford to have their fighters undergo the CSP. The next best thing to increase their strength was to teach them Vaylora. Mythara let out a deep breath and relaxed in his seat.

"Good, we have a vision. Let's solidify our plans and responsibilities."

Yet in the silence that followed, Mythara felt the shadow of Cefketa's smile lingering, as though the dragon himself had planned this very moment.

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