But... I Watched Him Die.

Aria’s fingers curled instinctively around the hilt of her knife, though she did not draw it. Not yet. Too much they didn’t know.

Too risky.

Another of the cloaked figures shifted uneasily, casting a glance toward the ruins. “They’re surely getting help, my queen. From within. The Nyxian general is compromised, but there must be another. Someone closer to the Architect than even Vey.”

“A traitor,” the queen murmured. There was no anger in her voice. No disbelief. Just understanding. As if she had expected this inevitability all along.

Neon felt something cold coil in his chest. Someone within the Architect’s inner circle was working against them. Someone who knew more than they did—someone who had access to things even those guards couldn’t uncover. If they found this person and teamed up with them...

The queen straightened. “Enough. We’ve allowed the Militian royal family their illusion of power for too long. No more. The Architect’s plan proceeds immediately. The royal family will be removed. The people of Militia will have no choice but to look to us.”

Aria’s breath hitched. Her grip tightened on Neon’s wrist. This was no mere political maneuvering. This was an execution waiting to unfold, a silent coup that would tip the scales of power irrevocably. 

Neon knew full well what this meant. If Aria´s royal family fell, Militia would crumble from within unless these usurpers place their own puppet on the throne. And if Militia fell to this extent, Nyxia would either have an advantage or be next in line.

All to keep the realm balanced?

One of the guards inclined his head slightly. His voice was devoid of hesitation. “An internal purge?”

“Precisely,” another guard said. “Think about it. Once the royal family is dealt with, we take control. Balance must be maintained, and under the current state of affairs, we must intervene before the runaways do something.”

Neon swallowed, his throat dry. Balance. A word that sounded deceptively neutral, yet here, in this moment, it was the weight tipping the world toward devastation. He glanced at Aria, barely able to make out her expression in the darkness, but he could feel it—the urgency burning in her eyes, the understanding that they needed to move. Now.

A pause, then a few guards turned slightly. “The general will arrive soon. Prepare.”

The guards stiffened, hands adjusting weapons, stances shifting into disciplined readiness. The moment of stillness before the storm.

Neon exhaled slowly, the barest whisper of air leaving his lips. Every instinct screamed at him to act, to strike, to do something—

But they were outnumbered. Ill-equipped. And they didn’t just need to escape.

They needed to warn someone, do something before it was too late.

Neon shifted slightly, just enough to glance beyond the fractured stone. The night stretched wide, empty yet suffocating. He had always thought of darkness as a shield, something to hide within. Now, it felt like a vice, pressing against them, threatening to squeeze the air from their lungs.

He could feel Aria tense beside him, the slight quiver of her muscles betraying the restraint it took to remain still. 

Then—a flicker of movement. A shadow joining with the others, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword.

Neon froze. If they were discovered now, there would be no warning, no escape, just the cold certainty of steel.

He glanced toward the group of figures, the guards stiffening as the general removed his hood. The moonlight caught his features—strong, stoic, a face that was both familiar and foreign. 

The general’s gaze swept the ruins, his eyes scanning the broken stone, pausing for a fraction longer than necessary before settling on the queen. He had not yet seen Aria or Neon. They were still hidden in the shadows, but Neon could feel the weight of the general’s presence.

Aria's hand flew to her mouth, her knuckles white as she struggled to hold back the choked sobs that threatened to escape.

"Do you have a report?" The queen’s voice was sharp, her posture as regal as ever, her eyes cold as she regarded the general.

The man bowed slightly, his demeanor professional but with a subtle tension underneath. "Yes, my queen," he said, his voice deep and steady. "There was a disturbance at the boundary, just a few hours ago. We felt it—a pulse, something unnatural. I sent a small detachment to investigate, but we found nothing. It’s likely the runaways, but they’ve hidden themselves well. Too well."

The queen’s lips barely parted in a grim smile. "It doesn’t matter. They’ll be dealt with soon enough."

Neon’s blood ran cold. The runaways. Aria and Neon. They´d just come into Militia and were already being hunted. They had to act. They couldn’t wait for dawn. 

But Neon’s focus was split between the guards, the general, and Aria, whose body was stiff with shock. Her face was pale, her lips trembling as she fought to regain control. She had been so composed just moments ago, but now she was falling apart, her grip on reality slipping with every passing second.

Neon moved closer, lowering his voice to a whisper and moving his hand gently over her hair, petting her head. "Aria."

His voice was calm, steady, but her eyes—her eyes were wide with disbelief and terror. She couldn’t focus. Her hands were shaking so violently that Neon was afraid she might collapse.

She’s seen a ghost. 

Then she looked at him, slowly, as if dragging herself from some distant place of terror. Her eyes met his, and in them, he saw something raw—something broken.

"That... that man... it’s him," she stuttered, her voice barely above a whisper, strained with emotion. "It’s my father."

Neon’s world seemed to tilt, his mind racing as the implications of her words crashed into him. His hand dropped away from her head, his fingers numb. He turned back toward the general, who stood beside the queen, the faintest flicker of recognition in his eyes—eyes that mirrored Aria’s.

Her father? 

Neon could barely process the thought. But… her father’s dead.

How could he be here? And why was he working with the queen? Had he always been a part of this cruel game? Or had he been taken, twisted by the same forces that had corrupted Militia and Nyxia?

Aria’s body shook uncontrollably now, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps. She reached out blindly, grasping onto Neon’s sleeve as if she were afraid to let go.

Neon’s mind raced, torn between his desire to comfort Aria and the urgent need to escape before they were caught. The general’s words—They’ll be dealt with soon enough—rang in his ears, and the sense of impending doom wrapped around him.

But Aria’s voice broke through the chaos. "He’s... he’s not dead. He’s not dead..." Her words faltered, and she pressed a trembling hand to her chest, as if trying to will herself to breathe through the shock. "I... I saw him die. I saw him—we saw him die—with our own eyes."

Neon clenched his fists. This wasn’t just about survival anymore. This was something deep that cut through everything he thought he knew about their world. Aria’s father, the man she had mourned, the one who had been taken from her by the very forces that now controlled Militia, was standing here. And he was alive.

Aria gasped, her eyes widening as she realized the queen’s attention had shifted. She was barely able to stand, her body swaying like a tree in a storm, her hands reaching out to Neon desperately. "We... we have to stop them... we have to stop him," she choked out, her voice barely a whisper.

Neon felt a deep, burning anger welling up inside of him, but he knew better than to act recklessly now. They were outnumbered, surrounded by enemies who knew their every move, their every thought. They needed a plan. A way out.

But more than that, they needed answers.

He turned to Aria, his voice low but firm. "We will. But we have to get out of here first. We can’t do this alone."

Her wide, terrified eyes met his, and for a moment, the world outside their tiny hiding place seemed to fall away. The cold, calculating queen, the silent guards, the general—none of them mattered in this one instant. Only the two of them, stuck in a nightmare neither of them had ever expected.

The guards lingered, exhaling sharply, then turned back to the queen. “Your orders?”

She didn’t hesitate. “We proceed at dawn. Their monarchy will fall in three days time.”

Aria’s grip tightened on Neon’s wrist like a silent scream.