The chamber murmured with approval.
Umbranox did not move.
She lounged upon her throne as though the shouting of nobles was no more troubling than rain against glass. Her chin rested lightly on her clawed fingers, golden eyes half-lidded, expression carved from boredom and private judgement.
“How touching,” she said at last.
The chamber quieted.
Not because she shouted.
Because she did not need to.
“The damage done to the power plant will take time, labour, and resources this Council does not presently have.” Her voice flowed smooth and dark through the hall. “The inmates held there were not merely petty criminals. Some were dangerous. Some were political. Some were both, which is so often the more inconvenient combination.”
Several councillors shifted uncomfortably.
Umbranox’s gaze did not leave Backfire.
“I gave very specific instructions. I wanted these reformed militia to prove their usefulness.”
Her smile thinned.
“And you took away their chance to do so.”
Backfire’s posture stiffened. “My Lady, I believed—”
“Ah.” Umbranox rose from her throne with predatory grace. “There it is. Belief. The favourite refuge of men who did not listen.”
Her gown whispered against the marble as she descended the dais, step by slow step. The chamber seemed to shrink around her.
She stopped in front of Backfire, close enough that he had to look down at her.
Somehow, she still seemed taller.
“I placed my trust in these Hybrids,” she said softly. “As head of House Arcturus. Do you understand what that means, Captain?”
Backfire swallowed.
“That is not a small feat.”
Her golden eyes sharpened.
“But you stole their victory. You paraded yourself before this Council and claimed their work as your own. And in doing so, you embarrassed House Arcturus.”
Her smile returned.
Small.
Beautiful.
Fatal.
“I take such offence seriously.”
Backfire’s ears flattened. “My Lady, I apologise. I only wished to ensure the Council saw results. In the chaos, I—”
“What can you do to correct this error, Captain Backfire?”
He blinked. “My Lady?”
Umbranox tilted her head, considering him like an unpleasant stain on good silk.
“Perhaps you are too eager to do the work of Hybrids. Perhaps working alongside them would better suit your station.”
A ripple of scandalised whispers passed through the chamber.
Backfire went pale beneath his fur.
“My Lady, no. Please. That would be—”
“Humbling?” Umbranox offered.
His jaw clenched.
“Corrective?”
He looked trapped.
“Educational?”
Backfire’s pride cracked before his courage did.
“The victory was theirs,” he blurted. “The Knights restored the plant. They cleared the infestation. They freed the prisoners. I lied.”
The chamber went silent.
Utterly silent.
Umbranox’s grin widened.
“Oh,” she purred. “So you did lie to the Matron of Sight.”
Backfire realised, one heartbeat too late, that he had only escaped one trap by stepping neatly into another.
Umbranox turned slightly, one claw lifting toward the guards.
“Perhaps demotion is in order. And some time spent taking care of something less explosive.” She paused, considering. “Bughorses, perhaps. They are stubborn, loud, unpleasant to clean up after, and yet somehow still more useful than a dishonest officer.”
Mezzo made a strangled noise.
Arcade’s shoulders shook.
Ray stared at the ceiling like she was praying for self-control.
Backfire twisted toward Celeste as the guards stepped in.
“You!” he barked, pointing at her. “Tell her! Tell her I had to do it! You’re supposed to be noble, aren’t you? Do the right thing for once in your cursed life!”
Celeste flinched.
Then her face folded into genuine distress.
“Oh,” she said softly. “I’m sorry. I mean, I think you’re in a lot of trouble, and that’s probably very frightening. And bughorses sound… difficult? I don’t know if they bite. Do they bite? But I don’t think I can help, because if I tell the truth, then I’d have to say you lied, and if I lie, Lady Umbranox will know, and then we’d both be in trouble. Well, more trouble. So I’m afraid I don’t know how to fix this without making it worse.”
Backfire stared at her.
Celeste gave him a small, helpless smile.
“I’m really sorry.”
Pitch slowly covered his mouth with one paw.
Ray muttered, “Stars preserve us, she tried to comfort him.”
Umbranox looked delighted.
The guards seized Backfire by the arms.
His armour scraped against the stone as he twisted back toward the dais, fury splashing through his voice.
“You filthy Hybrid!” he bellowed as they hauled him off. “You think you’re better than me?”
Celeste stepped back, ears pinned.
Mezzo folded his arms, shaking his head. “Stars above… what an ass.”
Lady Umbranox watched him dragged away with predatory calm.
“The Council does not tolerate betrayal,” she said coldly. “Nor does it tolerate failure. Commander Backfire has demonstrated both.”
Her gaze tracked him until the great doors slammed shut behind him.
“He will have time to explain himself later… in interrogation.”
Silence swallowed the chamber. Only the faint hum of mana lamps remained.
Then her gaze turned toward Celeste.
“Ah,” she murmured, reclaiming her seat with languid poise, “Commander Astallan. You have returned… with an activated mana well and a prisoner in tow. Will wonders never cease?”
Celeste stepped forward carefully, still not sure if she was about to be praised or executed.
“You… you know about that, Lady Umbranox?”
Umbranox leaned forward, her golden eyes gleaming like twin suns behind glass.
“I know everything, Commander Astallan.”
She smiled, but it was not a comforting one.
“Though, admittedly, I did not expect my militia to resurrect ancient infrastructure without my oversight. Tell me, how does one awaken a mana well that has slept for centuries?”
Celeste rubbed her arm awkwardly. “Um… I’m not really sure. It just — reacted to us. Maybe because of our cores?”
Umbranox’s eyes narrowed with interest, but she only said, “Never mind. I shall review the footage from your Arcbracer.”
Turning sharply, she extended a hand toward Bartleby, who had been hovering nervously nearby with an avalanche of papers.
“Now, let’s get down to business, Lord Fairfax.”
Bartleby nearly dropped half his stack. “Y-yes, my Lady!”
Umbranox flipped through a few glowing pages with the precision of a guillotine operator.
“Since no one else in this chamber seems capable of honesty,” she said smoothly, “but the power is indeed restored, I consider your arrangement… partially fulfilled.”
Her gaze shifted toward the group. “However,” she continued, “one matter remains unclear. This… Miss Topsy.”
Topsy, who had been discreetly trying to hide behind Ray’s tail, squeaked. “Uh-oh.”
Umbranox’s eyes flicked toward her.
“She was previously arrested for repeated civil disturbance and—” she lifted a brow, reading, “—possession of a homemade mana-launderer disguised as a popcorn machine?”
Topsy raised a paw, all too cheerful. “Guilty! But in my defense, it did make popcorn.”
A stunned beat of silence followed.
Celeste awkwardly cleared her throat. “She helped us, actually. A lot. And, um, I think the Knights could use her. She’s… inventive.”
Umbranox sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “You realize she’s a health hazard, yes?”
Topsy saluted proudly. “A certified one!”
Mezzo snorted. “That’s going on a Badge.”
Even Lady Umbranox allowed herself the faintest, most reluctant smile before the mask returned.
“I shall… revisit her case,” she said at last. “For now, she remains under your supervision, Commander Astallan. I expect you to survive it.”
Topsy clapped. “Yay! Field trip immunity!”
The rest of the Knights groaned in unison.
Umbranox ignored them, folding her hands over the glowing desk. “I will review your footage and confer with the Inner Ring regarding next steps. But know this—”
Her eyes gleamed with sharp approval.
“—you hybrids did not disappoint me.”
Then, softer, like a whisper meant only for Celeste:
“Do not make me regret it.”
Celeste bowed slightly. “Yes, Lady Umbranox.”
Bartleby, buried under paperwork, muttered to himself, “Stars help me, I’m going to need more forms.”
Lady Umbranox leaned back into her throne, one clawed finger tapping the armrest as if weighing a dozen unseen calculations. The golden filigree on her robes caught the chamber light like the rings of a rising sun.
“Well,” she said at last, the word drawn out like silk across glass. “You’ve caused uproar, confusion, and three separate requests for disciplinary hearings.”
Her tail flicked once behind her chair. “In other words, a rather productive day.”
She rose slowly, the full sweep of her gown whispering across the marble floor.
“Commander Astallan, you will report to my office after this session concludes. You and your team will be under provisional observation by the Mythic Accord for the time being.”
Brassmane bowed slightly in acknowledgment from his seat among the visiting delegates.
“I shall ensure they behave,” he said, his voice low and even.
Umbranox’s lips curved faintly. “See that you do.”
She turned her attention back to the exhausted Knights.
“Lord Fairfax will brief you on your next missions. Expect assignments involving further zombie containment. Succeed,” she paused, letting the word ring like a challenge, “and I will see your order formally recognized. You will receive your titles, lands, and the right to operate as an independent unit under Church authority.”
Her tone shifted—still calm, but sharp enough to draw blood.
“Fail…” she trailed off, gaze slicing toward Celeste, “and the executioner’s block remains an option.”
The silence that followed was deafening. Even the guards’ armor seemed to creak in discomfort.
Then, after a moment, she added with deliberate nonchalance:
“For now, that… treehouse you’re squatting in may remain your base—provided it does not continue to be an eyesore.”
Ray muttered under her breath, “Oh, how generous,” earning herself a quick elbow from Pitch.
Umbranox either didn’t hear or chose to ignore it.
“The Mythic Accord and the Inner Ring will continue investigating the mana well activation,” she continued smoothly. “As for the escaped prisoners, I trust they will be apprehended soon.”
Her gaze swept over them one last time—assessing, unreadable, but not without a flicker of respect.
“For now… well done, hybrids.”
Several nobles in the gallery scoffed audibly at that, whispers hissing through the tiers like angry snakes. But Celeste barely noticed them.
For the first time since her trial, she felt something flicker in her chest—a quiet, fragile thing that might have been hope.
She stood a little taller.
“Yes, Lady Umbranox,” she said softly.
As they were escorted from the chamber, Bartleby hustled after them with an armful of papers twice his size, muttering about mission rosters, stamp shortages, and “heroic bureaucracy.”
Topsy tripped over her own tail and declared cheerfully, “At least we didn’t die this time!”
Mezzo grinned. “Always a good start.”
And as the great Council doors closed behind them, Celeste couldn’t help but feel it—
They’d survived the impossible.
Now, somehow, they had to live up to it.
High above the golden arches of the Council Hall, in the latticework shadows of the rafters, Saff crouched like a vulture made of muscle and malice. Her eyes glinted red through the gloom, the faint blue light of her wrist comm casting sharp lines across her hyena-like muzzle.
She whispered into the comm, her tone a low growl wrapped in a smirk.
“There are still alive,” she said. “Pathetic, but alive. Maybe it’s time to take out the Council while they’re busy congratulating themselves.”
Static crackled before a smooth, measured voice answered, cold, and calculating.
“Not yet,” the voice replied. “We’ll need them all in one place first. The people will be easier to round up once the leadership collapses. I’ll see to that.”
Saff tilted her head, scratching at the scar beneath her collar.
“So, what? I just sit here and wag my tail?”
“No,” the voice said. “Keep eyes on them. I’ll handle Lady Umbranox and her precious Council. In the meantime, gather what intel you can—maps, schedules, guard shifts. Recruit those sympathetic to our cause. There are more than you think.”
Saff’s lips curled into a half-grin. “Got it. I’ll keep tracking the so-called Knights. Stars, I can’t believe I’m calling them that. They’re unworthy of the name.”
The voice on the other end chuckled darkly. “Then make them prove it.”
Saff tapped the comm off. “Saff out.”
She slinked back into the shadows, tail twitching, as the Council guards below escorted the Knights down the gilded corridor toward Umbranox’s private chambers.
