"Lord Hedrick, you have parties you can call on for support—parties with enough influence, armies, and ancient debts of honor to stand by your side," Theo advised in a calm yet deliberate tone. His words carried the weight of strategy, not sentiment.

"Like who?" Hedrick raised an eyebrow slowly, his expression carved from exhaustion and cynicism. "No one in this universe is willing to stand with me. I've made enemies of them all—every lord, every emperor, every scheming councilor who ever pretended to be an ally."

"Blood is still heavier than water." Theo tilted his head slightly, watching Hedrick's reaction carefully. "There are people—blood relatives, commanders, old allies—who would be harmed by seeing you perish. Not for love, perhaps, but for the imbalance it would cause."

"....." Hedrick's lips curved into a faint, bitter smile, heavy with fatigue and years of disappointment. "Do you mean those I sheltered at the cost of my life? Those for whom I sacrificed more than half my army, who cost me a marshal and five generals in the war for their survival… only for them to go and swear loyalty to that man the very next day? I should put my trust again on THOSE?!"

His voice shook with restrained fury. The memory was still vivid—the moment his brothers bowed to the father who had once exiled them all. The humiliation of watching them rejoin the old banner, erasing every drop of blood Hedrick had spilled for them.

Of course, Hedrick's shock at being able to wound his father—and the savage, intoxicating joy he had felt that day—had not erased the deep humiliation his four remaining brothers suffered afterward. They all chose to return under that man's banner, seeking safety in servitude, accepting absurd debts and oaths because they could not imagine a world without his shadow looming over them—a world where they would have to rely solely on themselves.

"They're still your brothers," Theo continued, his tone soft but insistent. "Still members of the Destra family. Even when they betrayed you, that betrayal was done for their father—your father. If you requested aid against an external threat, they should comply. At least your second brother would. Despite his ongoing war against two Centennial Empires, he could still spare at least a hundred fleets to repel the southern adversaries closing in on your borders."

"Forget them," Hedrick said coldly, shaking his head. "They're zeroes on the left—empty ornaments meant to decorate our father's false glory, useless and hollow. The only one with real promise is Helen, but she's far too weak now to contribute anything meaningful."

He let out a hollow laugh, one that carried both mockery and pain. "Imagine… after my brothers march to my aid—after endless negotiations, political games, and concessions—only for that man to whisper a single order, and for them to abandon me in the heat of battle. To leave me bleeding while they retreat with smiles on their faces. Pitiful."

"Speaking of orders from your father…" Theo leaned forward slightly, his voice gaining a sharp, dangerous edge. "That's exactly what I was about to broach. Your greatest opportunity, my lord, will be the intervention of Behemoth Helmor the Destroyer."

"...." Hedrick turned slowly toward him, the air thickening between them. "I warn you—do not push down that path."

"Lord, you may not realize this, but your father —Behemoth Helmor the Destroyer— has been watching your campaign closely, almost obsessively," Theo said, his tone mixing respect and calculation. "One could say he hears every step taken by one of your soldiers, and every move made by your enemies. He purchases intelligence at impossible prices to construct a perfect map of this war."

Theo's eyes gleamed faintly as he continued, "According to my reports, he laughed maniacally when he received word of the Cursed Galaxy's annihilation. He was delighted when you led that lightning raid that obliterated sixty fleets belonging to Lord Zarion's coalition, and when you crushed their command ships in a single strike that silenced three admirals in less than an hour, he—"

"Enough." Hedrick raised his hand sharply, silencing him. "He didn't rejoice for my sake. He rejoiced at the losses inflicted upon Zavros the Savage and Darvion the Cursed. He can't stand either of them—especially Zavros—ever since that savage dared interfere in his war against his own sons and slaughtered two of them."

His fists tightened until his knuckles cracked audibly. "That man… he doesn't hate Zavros the Savage because he loved his sons. He hates him because Zavros surpassed him. If Zavros the Savage had beaten a stray dog on the streets of Destra, he would have retaliated with the same ruthless rage. That man is not a father—he's a creature of pure arrogance, a monster who believes the universe exists to mirror his pride."

"Why not use that arrogance?" Theo asked, his gaze steady and unflinching. "If he's burning with the desire to intervene, then invite him. Let his wrath become your weapon. Use his hunger for dominance as your shield."

"Bring him here to defend me!?" Hedrick slammed his fist onto the map platform so hard the projection trembled. "Why — in your opinion — did I do all of this? Why did I thrust myself into the heart of this cosmic war to begin with?!"

For decades now Hedrick had ceased hiding secrets from Theo; the Shadow Swords had given him the unnerving impression that they could read the shape of his dreams. Keeping anything from them felt pointless—an illusion.

Theo fell silent for a few long breaths, letting Hedrick's anger burn itself out a little. When he finally spoke his voice was steady and clinical. "…It would be an opportunity to bleed three galaxies dry in a war of attrition."

"Forget it." Hedrick waved the idea away with a sharp, weary motion. "How long has that man been watching this conflict? Decades? Centuries? Why hasn't he acted sooner? He could easily announce that he's come to defend his eldest son." Hedrick's lips curled in disgust. "He waits for an official summons from me. He would stride in, humiliate me publicly, give orders from my halls, sit upon my throne—do you understand how degrading that would be? Do you know what he's done to me in the past?!"

His voice rose, raw with memory and pride wounded to the bone.

"…I know." Theo's expression softened for an instant and then hardened; he looked down, conceding a point without yielding strategy. "Someone else might see it as a chance to manipulate every side for their own gain. But, Lord Hedrick, if you're not prepared to face him—if you won't meet him eye-to-eye and settle that debt—then I will not press the matter again."

Hedrick stared at him for several heavy seconds before dropping his chin into his hands in a show of exhausted irritation. He knew Theo was right in the abstract. But this was not his way. The next time he stood before that man, he swore, it would not be to clasp hands and broker favors — it would be to kill him. Anything less would render everything meaningless. Better to turn his face to the soil and sow fields than to bow.

"…After the loss of trust in your brothers, and your total refusal to rely on your father," Theo resumed after a pause, "you have one last potential ally who could truly make a difference in this war."

"Who?" Hedrick braced himself, defensive and ready to dismiss whatever suggestion followed. If it hadn't occurred to him already, it would likely be useless.

"We are." Theo nodded toward himself and the silent figures behind him. "The True Beginning Empire."

"You?!" Hedrick's incredulous laugh was half disbelief, half a sliver of hope he did not want to admit. "I know your capabilities as the Shadow Swords—but an empire in the Young Belt aiding me directly against the Behemoths? How would that even look?"

"Lord Hedrick…" Theo's smile that sliced just enough to be unnerving. "We just saved Verilion for you from four hundred and fifty fleets—on top of that, a space-beast assaulted the armada and we turned it aside." His words landed like a cold fact.

Hedrick blinked, the hard line of his mouth softening as he absorbed that undeniable truth. Monsters had been bred in that empire—Robin Burton's creations—and such forces were not ordinary men. There was no room for argument now.

"Very well," Hedrick said at last, voice low. "What is your offer?"

Theo's tone grew businesslike. "Our offer: we will interdict and halt the forces advancing from the south. We will see to it that you are forced to fight on only one front—at least until reinforcements arrive or until a more permanent arrangement is reached. The how can be negotiated between us; we have methods, routes, and assets you cannot simply purchase." He paused, the faintest hint of that cold smile returning. "As for the price—you know it already."

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