The Palace Of The Midnight Son

The Gnomon spat him back into the Sanctum in a flash of green light. Lucius staggered forward, barely able to maintain his posture, but the sight that met him froze him where he stood.

The Sanctum, the last stronghold, was in ruins. Holographic pillars sparking, broken glass scattered across the polished floor, the great chamber split with claw marks and resonance burns.

“What the hell...” Lucius muttered, stepping over a collapsed console.

Instinctively, his eyes went to the central hub with the recorder that stored the Sanctum’s memory. He activated it with a flick, and the air shimmered into moving images, light reconstructing the past.

The replay began.

A gateway at the far wall tore open, jagged with shadow. First came Xallarap, reforming like smoke given form, its voice a low ripple.

“Find them. As the will of the King demands it.”

Then Iscarius stepped through, his Cursed Gladius glimmering with a sickly black aura. Behind them, Hourmen lumbered forward, cloaked and towering, their bodies a shifting clockwork of chains and timepieces ticking in maddening rhythms.

Umbra reacted first at the intrusion, eyes blazing, opening the veil of her resonance like a storm. “DEFENSE ON!”

The chamber erupted at her call, a forcefield of light fractals surrounding them. Ultra stood beside her, palms raised, pulling energy from the Sanctum’s very veins, weaving it into beams. Caesar slipped into Ender Realm, flickering between places, his outline warping like fractured glass.

The clash was immediate.

The Hourmen’s Divinera Blades lashed forward, striking at columns and pulling them down like branches. Caesar dove in, slashing through one blade with a warped spear of dimensional glass. But as soon as he cut it, two more blades sprouted in its place, twisting their curvature and wrapping around him, pinning him mid air.

Umbra struck next, tearing through the chamber and cutting clean through Xallarap’s body which unravelled into smoke. For a moment, it was gone, but quickly reformed behind her. A spike of shadow drove through her shoulder, slamming her into the wall.

Ultra roared, teal resonance erupting in bellows that filled the chamber, exploding outward in sharp blasts. The beams ricocheted, carving into Iscarius’s suit, drawing faint lines of blood.

But Iscarius didn’t flinch. His blade moved once. A single arc. The beam split in half, collapsing in a shower of sparks.

“You rely too much on your toys,” Iscarius said, walking straight through the storm of shattering glass. His blade found Ultra’s side. Blood splattered across the floor as Ultra fell to his knees, gasping.

“No!” Umbra screamed, launching herself toward him, apricot essence howling.

Iscarius pivoted, his blade humming, and her storm shattered like glass. She collapsed beside her brother, panting, her strength bleeding out of her.

The replay crackled. Lucius’s nails dug into his palms.

The last thing the recording showed was Xallarap, its form towering above them, shadows curling up the walls. Its blackened head turned toward the recorder, as if it knew Lucius would be watching.

The feed cut to static.

Lucius staggered back, trembling, rage clawing at his chest. His friends were gone. Taken.

“Enough. This ends now,” he whispered.

Jade exploded around him as he tore through the fractured walls of the Sanctum and materialized in the night sky. Pareidolia sprawled below, the palace of Anhedonia looming in the horizon.

At the heart of the storm, the Amber King waited.

Lucius bared his teeth. “I’m coming for you.”

***

The throne room of Anhedonia was a cathedral of amber. Vast walls dripped with resin, honey gold light caught and refracted a thousand times across its surface.

Caesar, Umbra, and Ultra were dragged across the gleaming floor by Hourmen, each step forward left streaks of their blood on the polished tiles.

At the far end, the throne rose.

They had heard his name whispered, had seen his designs ripple through the city, but none of them had ever stood so close. His body seemed both man and monument, his mask fitted like a statue, his missing eyes molten like trapped suns.

Beside them lingered Xallarap, writhing shadows spilling from limbs like serpents. Iscarius stood at attention, gathered around by ranks of Hourmen with their hollow masks ticking in unison.

Umbra broke the silence first, glaring up at the throne.

“...I’ve seen your shadows, but I’ve never seen you so close.”

Caesar chuckled dryly, despite the blood running down his temple. “Guess times are changing.”

The Amber King tilted his head, his voice low and resonant, filling the chamber without effort.

“Times do not change. I change them.”

Ultra coughed, his jaw set despite the wound at his side. “What do you want with us?”

The King leaned forward, and though his expression was unreadable, his presence doubled.

“You are all meaningless to me. I do not need pawns who are already broken. I only want him.”

His molten eyes narrowed, suns eclipsed.

“Lucius.”

Caesar spat blood, his lip curling. “So that’s it? You’ve built all this for one guy?”

The King smiled faintly, terrible in its calm.

Umbra strained against her chains, voice sharp and desperate. “Lain. Surazal. You killed them. You twisted everything! What more could you possibly take?”

The King’s gaze slid toward her, but his face remained utterly impassive.

“I do not take. I only reveal. They were always meant to break. He was always meant to rise. Do not confuse inevitability with theft. And now, he will come, and this city will be rid of the filth.”

As if summoned by that very sentence, the walls shook. A thunderous crack split the throne room doors, as emerald light bled through the seams. Another strike, then the doors exploded inward, shards of resin scattering across the floor.

Lucius stepped through the haze, filling the chamber with burning emerald light.

“You wanted me,” he said, his voice echoing like a blade drawn from its sheath. “Here I am.”