4th Day of the 2nd Earth Cycle[1], 2000, g.c.
The afternoon sun continued to spill through the red curtains in soft crimson sheets, painting the living room like the inside of a wine glass. An hour had passed since Kairos started sharing his insight on Paradiso and Infernia, and I would be lying if I said I caught every word with my own ears. The old man had been dropping information like he was unloading a library from his skull, talking about Angelic platoon movements, Daemonic seals breaking, Outer Realm politics, and all that good cosmic fuckery that usually meant my life was about to get less peaceful. Thankfully, [Moon Sage: Tsukuyomi] recorded everything for me. Without him, half of that conversation would've floated past my head and into the curtains while I sat there replaying Frost's words like a song I hated but couldn't stop hearing.
That thing.
Otherworlder.
The phrases kept circling back around, taking turns stepping on my chest. I would blink, and suddenly I wasn't looking at Kairos anymore. I was back in that same room with Frost's silver eyes staring at me like I was a mistake wearing his horns. My thoughts kept rewinding the moment like a bad fight breakdown. Maybe if I had said something different. Maybe if I hadn't joked about the milk. Maybe if I had looked less like myself. Maybe if I had hidden my aura better. Maybe if I had just been born regular.
That last thought was dumb as hell, but emotions rarely pull up with a degree.
The emotional aftermath was beating my ass, and I could feel it. Not like a dramatic breakdown. More like being slowly hit in the ribs with a padded bat repeatedly. My face stayed calm enough, my body relaxed into the couch, one hand loosely wrapped around my glass, but inside, my mind was slipping in and out of the conversation. Every time Kairos mentioned Paradiso, I heard Frost. Every time Infernia came up, I saw Mom's hurt face. Every time the room went quiet between sentences, I felt my hand hanging in the air again after Frost refused to shake it.
Kairos noticed.
Of course he did. The old bastard had been studying me while he spoke, probably noting every shift in my eyes, every delayed answer, every time my attention drifted away from his words and into my own wounds. He finished the last of his Earl Grey tea, the cup clinking gently against the saucer when he placed it on the low table. The steam had faded from the drink, leaving behind the warm smell of bergamot and black tea in a room already heavy with incense, mixed drinks, and fresh pain.
Kairos glanced toward the window, then back to me with a practiced softness.
"Oh my, would you look at the time. I've been rather chatty, I must say. How about we stop there for the day and pick this up another time. Today has been quite an eventful one, yet I would rather discuss future plans after your mind has had a break to rest."
My attention snapped to him like a sleeping student getting called on by the teacher. I straightened a little too fast, blinking once as the words finally registered. For a second, I almost asked him to repeat what he had been talking about, but my pride grabbed that sentence by the throat before it made it to my mouth.
"Ah, that lil' shit with my Dad was just a flesh wound. All I need is a good blunt, and I'll be back in the game."
Omnia sat right beside me, close enough that her warmth pressed gently against my side. She turned her head and looked at me in silence, her eyes soft with that terrifying understanding only she had. She knew I was using sarcasm as a shield. She knew I was bleeding behind the jokes. But she didn't call me out in front of everyone. Instead, her hand slid over my thigh, slow and soothing, her fingers pressing with quiet comfort while a small smile rested on her lips.
That smile told me she heard the lie and loved me through it anyway.
Across the room, Cecil had been half-sleeping in his chair, slouched with his head tilted back and one hand still holding his bottle like even unconsciousness couldn't pry liquor from his grip. Then, like some ancient drunk warrior summoned by the word blunt, he suddenly sprang up and tilted the bottle toward the ceiling. The pungent scent of deeply fermented baijiu crept from the container, bold and sharp enough to slap the air awake, but no liquid poured out.
Cecil stared into the bottle with true betrayal.
"No way! I'm out. I guess this is a perfect spot to call it a day."
Kairos adjusted his glasses with a faint smile.
"I'm amazed it's only been four bottles since last night."
Cecil turned the empty bottle upside down one more time, as if new alcohol might show out of nowhere.
"It will be five when we finally get to our room."
Kairos stood with smooth grace, brushing a hand along the front of his cloak before turning his attention to me. The amethyst pawprint rested on the table between us, its surface glowing faintly beneath the crimson sunlight. Inside it, violet memory-light swirled like a dream refusing to wake. Whatever future version of me had left in that gem, it carried weight. I could feel it without touching it again.
Kairos gestured toward it with one pale hand.
"Lord Xiro, I shall leave the pawprint in your care. If you need me, we will be located at the Talasi Inn. Until then, rest well and goodbye for now, Your Highness. Omnia. Lady Vericka."
Cecil pushed himself out of the chair, bottle tucked under one arm as he gave me a sharp look that felt more like a challenge than a threat. His drunken haze didn't hide the warrior behind his eyes. It made him look more dangerous, honestly.
"If you don't come see us first, I'll be coming to you, Lord Xiro. There's a simple request I want to make later."
I didn't feel any malice from it, but the stare intrigued me. Cecil was hard to read, which automatically meant I wanted to read him more. That monkey man had secrets stacked behind secrets and liquor poured over all of them like camouflage.
"Understood. We can link up later. Thanks for coming, you two."
Cecil grinned, lifting the empty bottle in farewell.
"Marvelous. But next time, we're staying for lunch. Goodbye, everyone."
Mom offered them a warm nod from the loveseat, her own exhaustion hidden behind manners.
"So long for now, Sensei and Doctor Kai."
The two exited the room with soft steps, Kairos calm and dignified, Cecil already looking like his next mission was finding the nearest bottle with liquid still inside it. The door closed behind them, and the second it did, something in my chest loosened enough for the breath I had been holding to finally leave me.
I exhaled long and slow.
Sadness and anger came out tangled together, thick enough that it almost felt like smoke. With Kairos and Cecil gone, I could finally stop wearing the king's mask so tightly. No need to sit upright like an emperor hearing war reports. The room had emptied of outsiders, leaving only people who already knew me beneath the title.
Omnia's hand moved from my thigh to my back. She rubbed me slowly, fingers gliding in patient circles while her two tails crawled up the backrest of the couch, curling behind me like living comfort. She didn't speak. She didn't need to. Sometimes comfort was better when nobody tried dressing it up with a speech.
Mom had taken a moment to regain herself, too.
The Frost reunion had fatigued her more than it did me, which was saying something. She had spent years carrying hope, fear, love, guilt, and old memories of that man in the same heart. Seeing him again had cracked open all of it at once. She turned from the loveseat, her hazel-green eyes settling on me with the intended look to comfort me, even though her own pain was still sitting on her shoulders.
"Find it in you to forgive your father, one day. His cruelty came from a pain he hasn't escaped."
Her voice was gentle, but the words still scratched.
I looked at her for a moment, then glanced down at my hands.
"I wonder if that pain made it easier for him to call his own child 'that thing'."
Mom didn't reply.
She simply lowered her head and eyes, and that silence told me enough. She didn't agree with him. She didn't excuse him. But love made people complicated. I knew she still saw the man Frost used to be, maybe the man he could've been if Kurtis hadn't gutted his life and left trauma wearing his face. I wasn't mad at her for that. But I couldn't borrow her memories and use them as bandages. I only knew the Frost who walked into my home and rejected me before we even had a chance to sit at the same table.
I stood from the couch, the cushion rising behind me.
"Mom... I love you. Thank you for always accepting me. Even when you didn't understand me, you never treated me like anything else but your child."
Vericka raised her head, shocked at first, then softened by a gentle smile that touched her eyes before it reached her lips. For a second, she looked younger. Not weaker. Just lighter. Like those words had reached a place inside her that had been bracing all morning.
"I love you, too, Xiro. I'm just happy you trusted me to raise you right."
We smiled at each other.
That smile carried a lot. My childhood. Her patience. Her discipline. Every late-night lesson. Every meal. Every time she corrected me without making me feel unwanted. Every moment she saw strange things in me and still looked at me like I belonged in her arms. I didn't know how much of me was Jean, Wolfie, Xi, Xiro, or whatever future time-loop nonsense was cooking in the background. But I knew one thing for damn sure.
Vericka Mikazuki was my mother. Billie Holiday, too. Two halves of the same woman, both of them choosing me before I knew how badly I needed choosing.
Omnia floated behind me, her Fey wings quietly fluttering with a delicate shimmer. She drifted close enough to rub her cheek against mine, soft and affectionate, like a cat showing love after deciding it owned you. The scent of jasmine and vanilla brushed my senses and eased some of the tightness in my chest.
"Yes, yes. You two. You were the first to accept me."
Omnia hummed near my ear, full of pride and possession.
"You damn right, my pride and Moonlight."
Mom's smile widened slightly as she looked between us.
"I guess I'm not the only one who calls him that."
Vericka stood from the love sofa, raising her arms toward the ceiling and stretching with a tired little groan. Her shoulders rolled back, and some of the heaviness seemed to leave her posture, though not all of it. Frost had a way of lingering after he left, like cold air under a door.
"While I still have love for Frost, he has no right to walk into our home and question the man who saved Talasi."
"I appreciate the annoyance for me, but I don't want the entire castle turning Frost into the enemy. At least not right now."
Mom looked at me with warmth and sadness mixed together.
"Thank you for showing your father mercy and empathy."
"I wish that nigga showed me the same."
She had no quick answer for that either.
After a breath, she smoothed her shirt and turned toward the door.
"I'm about to go check on Glynis in the kitchen. You should get some rest."
"I'll try to slide it in with work. I still have to finish prepping for the royal party."
Mom walked over to me. At only five-foot-three, she had to reach up to guide me down, but she had no problem placing a firm hand against the back of my neck and pulling me forward. Her lips pressed against my forehead in a kiss so familiar it almost hurt. She used to do that when I was angry as a kid. Or dejected. Or when I'd gotten too frustrated during training and started pretending I didn't care about failing.
I had forgotten how those moments could make me feel less stressed for a moment.
The pressure behind my eyes eased.
Not gone. But eased.
Then she walked out of the living room, leaving Omnia and me in the tinted quiet.
I looked around after she left and realized I wasn't enjoying the room's mood anymore. The red curtains, incense smoke, plush furniture, and polished table all felt too closely tied to what had happened. Frost had fucked up the atmosphere in that room, and I wasn't trying to marinate in it. We were already on the second floor, where most of the bedrooms and social gatherings lived, so I knew exactly where to go.
I made my exit into the hallway, with Omnia floating tightly behind me like a beautiful ghost that refused to let me suffer alone. We hovered down the carpeted corridor at walking speed, moving past black walls trimmed in silver, tall windows, and mana lanterns glowing softly in their brackets. The carpet beneath us carried a deep purple pattern stitched with crescent moons, muffling the world until the castle was whispering around us.
Before reaching the final door, we passed Luda's bedroom.
His mana signature pulsed from behind it, thick and restless. The rhythm was uneven, rising and falling in quick surges. He was either fighting or fucking. Since I didn't hear explosions, cracked walls, or Roxy yelling spells, I used context clues like the genius I am.
I stopped by his door and gave it three taps with my knuckles.
"Yo, fool! When you get a moment and take a break, find me in the Smoke Room."
A muffled noise came from inside, but I didn't wait around to decode it. Omnia giggled behind me, light and wicked, because her sister's moans could be heard from behind the door if you knew what to listen for. Which, unfortunately, I did.
We passed Steez's and Alex's rooms as well, but neither of them was in. The hallway stayed quiet until we reached the final door at the end. I opened it and was immediately greeted by the visual joy of my royal man cave.
The smell of Elysian flowers slapped me with that musty, rich, and sweet scent as soon as my foot touched the carpet. Earthy, floral, sticky, and a little sharp in the best way. The Smoke Room was an introverted stoner geek's dream. Two flat monitors hung on the wall, inventions I created from scratch with magitech and Earth-memory inspiration. They were built to read mnemonic crystals like DVDs, upgraded versions of the crystal readers I had created as a child, now cleaner, wider, and more stable. The screens reflected soft black glass until activated, blending into the room's "what the fuck" beauty like pieces of another world pretending they belonged in a castle.
A large ivory wood desk sat in the back, holding a pile of reproduced comics and manga. Some were stacked neatly. Others had been left open with bookmarks, crystals, and notes between pages. I had no excuse for that mess. I respected organization in theory, but in practice, my desk often looked like a librarian fought a teenage anime fan and both lost.
A wall bookcase made up the adjacent wall, filled with books, scrolls, mnemonic crystals, weird collectibles, and a few things I probably shouldn't have left in plain view if guests came snooping. The clean and empty fireplace waited beneath it, framed in black stone. Mauve-colored sofas and multiple purple cushions decorated the floor spaces, soft enough to trap a man in relaxation if he wasn't careful. Swords and photos hung on the walls, each one holding its own memory. Some photos were of the Wolfpak. Some were of Mom and Grandma. A few were of Omnia and her halves, looking way too good for any frame to survive long-term exposure.
In the corner sat a small mini cooler fridge running on Electric and Ice Runestones. It was old school, boxy, and less elegant than most of the furniture, but it used to be Mom's, and she wanted to give it to me. So it stayed. I didn't care if it clashed with the room. Sentimentality gets grandfathered into design choices. Indigo curtains framed the one big window, giving the entire room its own special tint during dayhalf. The sunlight that entered became cooler, deeper, almost moonlit despite the afternoon outside.
I found my seat behind the desk in a special chair I designed. It rotated, leaned back, and stretched long enough for me to lie down while watching the monitors. It was comfortable, dangerous, and one of my best creations for doing absolutely nothing with style. It was also a place where Omnia had shown me a special kind of worship more than once.
So it was no surprise when I saw the grin on her face.
Her hand moved up, gathering her long hair into a ponytail with slow, intentional grace. Her eyes lowered, lashes heavy, lips curling as she stepped closer to my chair like she already knew exactly how she wanted to "help."
"Master, would you like to enjoy some fellatio to get your mind off of things?"
I caught her wrist before she got too deep into the rhythm of that idea.
"Hold up, Bae. Maybe later. I gotta take care of business, for real."
Omnia tilted her head, ponytail half-formed, indigo-cyan eyes gleaming with shameless devotion.
"I could do it quietly, so the sound doesn't disturb you."
"I know you can. But I'll let you treat me like a pacifier later."
A satisfied smile spread across her face like I had signed paperwork.
"I will count that as a promise. But I just wanted to help ease your thoughts from your interaction with your parent. I know how difficult it can be to get along with them."
I leaned back in my chair, letting it tilt slightly beneath me as I stared up at the ceiling for a breath.
"You can't make everybody like you. Besides, I'm not finna be sitting around moody like a lil' bitch, waiting on him to change his views."
The words came out strong. Too strong. The kind of fake-strong that exposed the bruise beneath it.
"As long as Frost doesn't cause me any problems, I'm content with letting him remain just another stranger."
My fingers tapped the armrest once, too hard. I said that with my chest.
But my heart was broken behind it.
It didn't feel like my job to chase after him for a relationship. I wasn't a little boy peeking out the window, waiting for a father who kept missing birthdays. I had a kingdom to raise from the dust. People to protect. A Royal Ball to prepare. Enemies gathering in Paradiso and Infernia. A time-loop pawprint gem on my desk waiting to complicate my life later. I had too much shit to do to sit around hoping Frost would look at me differently.
Still, knowing that didn't make it hurt less.
Omnia said nothing at first. She just looked at my forced smile with those ancient, loving eyes of hers, seeing through the emotion like it was made of cheap glass. Then she leaned in and gave me a deep kiss on the lips. Slow enough to comfort. Warm enough to pull me back into my body. Her scent of jasmine and vanilla wrapped around me, soft and familiar, bringing comfort I couldn't find anywhere else.
When she pulled back, she smiled.
"Summon me whenever you want or need me. I am but a call away."
Then Omnia began to glow.
Ultramarine and indigo light bloomed from her body, spreading through her hair, skin, and eyes until she looked like a goddess caught inside a star. Her form softened into spiritons, unraveling into a large orb that pulsed once above the carpet. The orb separated into three streams of color: red, blue, and black. Each ribbon spun outward, shaping bodies from pure divine memory and familiar love.
Kyttin Luna returned first, red mana curling around her like ethereal water, twin tails swaying as her body finished with sensual grace. Chomei Sol followed in cerulean light, glasses appearing on her face as her Fey wings fluttered in neat, playful beats. Karma Nova poured into place last, black starlight sliding over her four arms and curves as her biodoll completed its look in two seconds.
The Three Twilights stood before me in full effect, each woman dripping in beauty, curves, and playful energy.
Karma immediately turned to me. All four of her arms grabbed my thighs as she leaned in close, her heart-shaped irises shining with genuine excitement.
"Soooo, papi, what are your ideas for the Ball's theme?"
The joy in her eyes caught me off guard.
I blinked.
"Theme? I don't know. I was thinking of something simple."
It was almost as if Omnia had reformed just to disagree with me, because all three of them said the same thing at the same time.
"No."
I stared at them, honestly confused.
In my mind, the Ball was going to be a bunch of stuck-up assholes trying to play nice while secretly looking for ways to use me. I was ready for political mind games. Ready for fake smiles, hidden threats, and noblewomen trying to figure out whether the new Demon Lord could be seduced, bribed, or cornered into an alliance. My focus had been strategy.
Their concern was apparently on the audacity of me not having a theme.
Karma squeezed my thighs, giving me that serious look she used when she wanted me to stop being dense in multiple languages.
"Beloved, this is not some backyard cookout. This is a Royal gathering and declaration of your ascension as new Sovereign. This has to be special."
I spread my hands.
"I mean, what's wrong with a backyard cookout with improved lighting and no mosquitoes?"
Chomei adjusted her glasses with gentle authority.
"That's not how royalty works, dear."
Kyttin stepped closer, smiling sweetly while her tails swayed with purpose.
"Don't worry, we'll take care of that part. I can still have your cookout-style food prepared. Did you want to introduce others to the Mikazuki Soul Food menu?"
That made me pause.
"You know, that sounds good. Yeah, let's put Velonica on game. If anything, the food is gonna blow their mind. I'mma even use some mnemonic crystals to play music."
Karma's eyes lit up brighter.
"I know a bard who would probably love to play and perform."
"Then I'll leave his invite to you."
Karma lifted two hands to her cheeks while the other two stayed on my thighs, excitement bubbling out of her.
"Ooooouuu, I know! We'll call it 'The Royal Player's Ball'. Like that event from your life as Jean."
I couldn't help laughing.
"Hahahaha. So that's how y'all want to show out?"
Chomei clasped her hands together with a dreamy smile.
"I love that idea."
"Of course, a little hedonist like you would. But I could see the similarities between being a Pimp and being a King. Nothing good from those comparisons, but I can acknowledge them."
Kyttin's smile turned thoughtful, her voice softening the concept without killing the fun.
"Even if you don't get all overly deep with its meaning, we can borrow a little inspiration from it."
I looked between all three of them, then leaned back in my chair with a grin growing slowly.
"Fine, I'm with the shits. I'll tell everyone I invite to look their flyest."
The girls continued talking after that, bouncing ideas off one another as if the Ball had gone from political necessity to personal project. Decorations, lighting, outfit concepts, music, guest presentation, food placement, seating arrangements, how to make the entrance feel royal without making it boring. Karma wanted seduction and flavor. Chomei wanted elegance and playfulness. Kyttin wanted spectacle, warmth, and just enough intimidation to remind everyone whose castle they were stepping into.
While they chatted, I sat back in my chair and marveled at them.
I couldn't explain it cleanly, but the simple moment of being around them brought me a feeling of happiness that refreshed my mood. The wound from Frost didn't vanish. That man's words still lingered somewhere in me, cold and stubborn. But the room had changed. The Devil's Den smelled of Elysian flowers, old comics, chilled drinks, soft fabrics, and the women who loved me enough to argue about party themes because they wanted my reign to shine properly.
For a while, I said nothing.
I just admired my Queens in silence.
After ten minutes of the Twilights turning my Smoke Room into a royal planning office with better curves, Luda finally made his way out of his room and down the hallway.
I heard him before I saw him. Not loud or dramatic, just that easy Braye stride carrying through the corridor with the confidence of a man who had just completed important work and felt spiritually lighter because of it. When he appeared in the doorway, smelling like sin, sweat, and Roxy, my boy wasn't hiding shit. His chest was bare, light brown skin still carrying a faint sheen from whatever "workout" he and Roxy had just finished, and his black shirt hung from one hand like clothing had been a suggestion until he remembered other people existed.
His aura came in relaxed but charged, that midday warmth sitting around him like gold fire tucked beneath skin. It had gotten stronger lately. A lot stronger. Even when Luda wasn't flaring his mana, his presence had that heavyweight pressure to it now, like the room had to acknowledge him before he spoke. The Braye clan always had that kingly glow in their blood, but the Pure Lord Lotus in him had sharpened it into something dangerous and regal. A man could smell like sex and still walk in with emperor energy. My nigga had range.
The Twilights stopped mid-conversation the second they noticed him.
Chomei looked him over first, glasses catching the soft indigo light from the curtains as her eyes drifted across his shoulders and torso with open academic appreciation. Academic, in this case, meaning shameless as hell but polite about it.
"You know, Luda has a nice body and muscle tone."
Kyttin's ears perked as she tilted her head, her twin tails swaying behind her while her eyes followed the same path Chomei's did.
"It looks like Master's. It's all compacted and toned."
I leaned back in my chair and pointed between the two of them.
"Stop harassing Luda in front of me."
Kyttin turned her sweetness back on me with the speed of a professional menace. Her lips curled, eyes glowing warm heterochromatic red-gold beneath the smoke-room light.
"Awww, you jealous, baby? You know we love your body the most."
That was the kind of sentence that would've made a weaker man fold. Me? I stood strong by sitting down and pretending I had discipline. Very heroic. Sittin' on business.
Luda just shook his head and finished sliding his black t-shirt over his head. The fabric clung to his shoulders for a second before dropping into place, and he tugged the bottom down with a sigh that said he had no plans to be dragged into whatever flirt war my women were trying to start.
"Y'all ladies, leave me out of it." His eyes moved to me, already locked on the real reason he came. "Aye, Xi, where are the trees, so I can roll up."
He was speaking my language.
I reached into the desk drawer with the kind of urgency only a man recovering from warfare could respect. My fingers found the round glass jar tucked behind a stack of mnemonic crystals and two comics I still hadn't finished writing called Zo of Azur. The jar came out heavy with Elysian bud nuggets, fat little clusters of green, violet, and pale-blue flower packed tight with resin and glittering mana dust. The second I cracked the seal, the smell opened in the room like a spell—musty, sweet, floral, earthy, with a sharp kiss of citrus underneath. Elysian Trees didn't just smell like weed. They smelled like a forest goddess had bad habits and excellent taste.
I tossed the jar to him with a clean flick of my wrist, like John Stockton in his prime.
Luda caught it one-handed without even looking, already pulling hemp papers from his pocket as he moved toward one of the mauve sofas. My boy had just finished laying it down and walked straight into rolling up. That was peak post-battle recovery. Men really do be simple creatures with complex trauma.
Kyttin glanced between us, then smiled knowingly.
"I'll be back up here later for the after-dinner sesh. I can see that this is going to be a fellas talking moment."
Chomei tapped a finger against her chin, then turned toward Karma with a bright idea lighting up her face.
"That's not a bad idea, Kyttin. Hey, Karma, you want to come with me to find Akai? We can all smoke in my room."
Kyttin's ears flicked with excitement.
"Oooh, that sounds fun. I'll go grab my stuff."
Karma's smile dropped like somebody told her recess got canceled. All four of her hands tensed, and her heart-shaped irises shifted toward me with a look that could've guilt-tripped a corpse.
"But... But, I don't wanna leave Master Xi."
Chomei stepped beside her and gently took one of her arms.
"Let him get a minute without us. Besides, you can return after we figure out what we're going to wear to the Ball."
Karma looked at Chomei, then glanced back at me with pure disappointment on her face. Her bottom lip pushed out slightly, and the woman had the nerve to look abandoned while standing ten feet away from me. Absolutely on brand.
"Awww..."
She let out a heavy sigh, dramatic enough to deserve background music, as Kyttin and Chomei each grabbed an arm and started dragging her toward the door. Karma allowed it, but her eyes stayed on me until she crossed the threshold like a child being taken away from the candy aisle. I lifted two fingers in farewell, and she looked even more betrayed.
Luda chuckled at the whole situation, gently shaking his head while he settled onto the sofa with the jar in his lap.
"Even when separate, Omnia's desire for you is strong."
"She never makes me feel unloved." I leaned back in my chair, watching the door close behind them. "Who knew death was so clingy?"
Luda's mouth curled as he broke down a nug over one of the papers.
"It must run in the family."
About a breath later, Alex Zo and Jojo King appeared in the doorway like the universe had waited for the Twilights to leave before sending in the rest of the men. Alex wasn't wearing his headband, so his white dreadlocks hung lazily over his shoulders, some strands falling around his sharp Tengu features. His new red wings were tucked behind him, and his posture had that familiar restless energy like he had been walking fast even when he wasn't.
Jojo stood beside him with his long beard and dark hair hiding most of his face from view. He had that quiet mountain presence, broad and steady, for a slim man built from old expectations and new uncertainty. The Hero of Mankind had been through a weird life shift lately. Going from the Madness's holy sword to hanging around the Wolfpak in my smoke room was the kind of character development that made priests lose sleep.
Jojo paused at the threshold half a second longer than Alex, like some old part of him still expected the room to reject him. Alex looked around the room, eyes landing on me and Luda.
"So this is where y'all are at. There was some talk of you being seen outside with some dude in a white mask."
Jojo stepped in behind him, his voice carrying that calm curiosity of a man trying to understand Talasi gossip without fully joining it.
"The way they were talking, you were looking old and buff."
I snorted.
"They must be talking about my family who came to see me."
Alex's brows lifted.
"More Oni?"
"I'll fill you in. Y'all bring ya asses in so we can get this smoke session started. I also need help with some ideas for the Royal Player's Ball."
Luda looked up from the paper he was filling, interest crossing his face.
"The Royal Player's Ball? I like the name."
Alex grinned immediately, already walking toward a cushion near the desk.
"That's a fly ass title for a party. That means we're dressing up again?"
Jojo entered more slowly, scanning the room with the careful curiosity of someone still adjusting to how casual everything around me could get. His eyes moved from the wall monitors to the stacks of comics, then to the glowing mana crystals, then to the jar of Elysian Trees in Luda's hands.
"We got a formal party gathering? I'm not much of a smoker, but I'll give it a try since I'm with Lord Xi."
Both of them found spots nearby to sit. Alex dropped down like he owned the cushion. Jojo lowered himself more deliberately, folding his hands for a moment as he stared toward the jar like he was considering the theology of getting high.
"To think, I was once held as the Hero of Mankind..." Jojo shook his head, then laughed softly to himself. "Now I'm doing noble drugs and planning a party with a Demon Lord. Hahaha. Life sure is funny."
"Life got jokes," I said. "Most of them are fucked up, but every now and then, one lands."
Luda completed the roll of his fifth joint with clean fingers and calm precision. My bro had a talent for this. He packed each one firm, twisted the ends, and tossed them to us like shinobi daggers. One flew to me. One to Alex. One to Jojo. Another landed near the edge of the table for the brother we were missing. His hand moved without wasted motion, smooth as a dealer passing cards at a high-stakes table.
"Yo, where's Steez? Is he around?"
I tapped two fingers against my temple, already reaching through the Crest of the Wolfpak.
"I just sent a telepathic message. He said he'll be here in a second."
It didn't take him long to pop up.
You know, super speed and shit.
The door opened with a quick gust of wind, and Steez Mikazuki slipped into the room with a snack basket tucked under one arm like he had been summoned by the ancient sacred duty of bringing munchies. His braided top fade was a little messy, his heterochromatic eyes bright, and his new feet moved so naturally under him that I had to remind myself he had only recently gotten them back. He was still adjusting, still healing in ways he probably hadn't put words to, but watching him move around casually again did something good for my heart.
He lifted the basket with a grin.
"I figured niggas would get hungry."
"Clutch," Alex said instantly.
"Baby bro understood the mission," I added.
And with that, we proceeded to cloud up the room with Gaian weed smoke.
The first spark of Fire Mana lit the tip of my joint in a tiny blue-orange flicker. Luda used a pinch of Solar Mana, because of course, he had to be extra and light his with a golden flare like the blunt deserved a divine sunrise. Alex puffed, coughed once, then acted like he didn't. Jojo took his first hit with caution, held it too long trying to be honorable or some shit, then coughed hard enough to make Alex laugh and slap his knee. Steez reached into the snack basket and tossed him a small honey biscuit like that was medical care.
The Smoke Room slowly transformed into exactly what the name promised. Blue-gray clouds drifted through the air, thick and sweet, catching the indigo light from the curtains until the whole room looked like a moonlit lounge inside a dream. The smell of Elysian Trees mixed with old paper, cold drinks, ivory wood, and masculine laughter. The monitors stayed dark on the wall, reflecting us in ghostly shapes through the haze.
For a few minutes, we bullshitted.
We talked about nothing and everything. Luda joked about Roxy trying to "win" at everything, even in the bedroom. Alex asked if that meant he lost, and Luda told him he could never be manhandled as Danica does to him. Alex threatened to kick him through the desk. Jojo quietly asked if Roxy was truly that competitive, and the whole room stared at him until he realized he had asked too sincerely. Steez ate a bag of spicy chips in two seconds and said nothing, like that was normal behavior.
Then the moment came.
The smoke helped soften the edge, but I still had to say it.
I told them about meeting my father. I told them how Frost looked like me, but colder. How he refused to acknowledge me as an Oni. How he called me an Otherworlder, like the word tasted rotten in his mouth. How he believed I was a danger to him and everyone he cared for because of what Kurtis had done to his family. I kept my tone casual where I could, but these were my niggas. They heard the parts I tried to hide.
Luda took a slow drag, then leaned back with smoke rolling from his nose as he laughed.
"Hahahahaha. He really doesn't know you. You're only a danger to anyone outside of the family."
Jojo lifted his joint with an amused nod.
"As someone who was once on that side of the field, I can validate that statement. You all remember how he punched my Combat Art into space."
Steez pointed at Jojo with a chip between his fingers.
"That shit was funny."
The whole room exploded into laughter.
Chest-deep, smoke-choked, stupid laughter that bounced off the walls and made the whole atmosphere loosen. Alex nearly dropped his joint. Luda shook his head with a grin, eyes squinted from smoke and amusement. Jojo laughed too, which made it even funnier because he was the victim in the story. Steez had to lean back against the sofa like the memory was still hilarious enough to weaken his bones.
I laughed with them.
And for a second, that pain Frost left in me didn't feel as sharp.
That moment made me appreciate the fact that my found family, the Wolfpak, would always see me as the same big brother. Otherworlder or not. Archon or not. Demon Lord or not. These were my Day Ones. The people who knew me before the throne, before the castle, before half of Gaia started whispering my names like I was a curse with good PR. Even Jojo was proving he belonged with the gang, and that was a wild sentence to think considering he once came at me with them paladin bitches and holy smoke in his lungs.
Jojo's laughter faded first, but his expression stayed soft. He looked at the joint between his fingers for a moment before speaking.
"For what it is worth, people have looked at me and seen mankind's sword since I was young. Some days, I was not allowed to be Jojo at all. Only what they needed me to represent. So I can relate to your emotions."
That quieted the room in a good way.
Alex leaned forward, elbows on his knees, white dreads falling around his face.
"That don't mean you gotta bleed for a crime you ain't commit, my nigga."
Steez nodded, voice blunt as always.
"A real nigga would have slapped his ass for the disrespect."
"Word! I was expecting to hear Xi kicked his ass for it."
Alex added with an undertone of confusion.
I couldn't help but laugh.
"You two got a point. I had a moment of weakness since it was my father."
Luda pointed his joint toward me, tone easy but serious underneath.
"I think you did well to show restraint. Although that doesn't mean you gotta keep showing restraint if the disrespect doesn't stop."
The smoke shifted between us, soft and slow.
I let their words sit with me for a breath. None of them told me to ignore the wound. None of them acted like Frost had earned unlimited chances because he donated DNA. They understood the line. Family mattered, but respect did too. That was why I loved these niggas. They didn't try to make my pain smaller so they could feel better about it. They just sat with me in it, cracked jokes, and handed me a blunt like emotional field medics.
After another drag, I waved my hand through the smoke.
"Alright, alright. We've talked enough about my Daddy Issues. Now I wanna hear party ideas."
Jojo lifted a hand slightly, still cautious.
"Question, Lord Xi."
"Jojo, just call me Xi. You're good on honorifics with me."
He dipped his head once.
"Understood. But is my input truly wanted here? I figured this would be a Sociovore thing."
"Oh nawl, your input is definitely wanted. You know Human political figures and noble customs better than most of Talasi."
Luda leaned forward, resting one forearm on his knee as the serious part of him slipped into place.
"Definitely send an invite to my mother, Queen Braye. Although I'm concerned about the security routes. Still, it would be stupid to start something with us there."
Alex rubbed his chin, eyes narrowing as his mind moved into strategy mode. For all his anger and jokes, my cousin had always been sharp when shit mattered.
"We shouldn't invite just the locals. You should send an invite to the East Velonican Queen. You know the key people from outside territories. Especially since you're announcing that the Midnight King is planning to rule the entire south of Arcadia."
Steez pointed toward Alex like he had been waiting on that lane.
"Don't forget the Velonican Dukes, Barons, and Clan Grandmasters who wanna join the reunification peacefully."
Alex nodded.
"If we're talking local, we gotta invite the merchants and off-duty guards. To build better relationships."
Luda added another layer without missing a beat.
"If we're talking relationships and hands to shake, then he needs to invite the RIAA Guilds to show who Xiro is beyond the rumors. Most people only know the Devil of Velonica. And some folks think he's just a story."
"Artists control stories as much as kings control borders," Luda said. "You want them seeing you with their own eyes."
I leaned back and looked toward the ceiling, smoke curling from my lips.
"I wonder if some of them would make it in time? I'm planning for this to go down in a fortnight."
Jojo's voice came firmer, carrying old knowledge from the Human world he came from.
"I gotta warn you against inviting too many Human-aligned figures too quickly. They can't be trusted without properly vetting them. The Kingdom of Madness already knows that Demihumans, stronger than their disciples, live here."
Jojo's voice lowered. "A smiling envoy could still be carrying a Madness prayer-mark, spy charm, or command seal."
Alex snapped his fingers, eyes lighting up.
"I got an idea, since we're worried about time and distance, Xiro can just use his space magick to make portal staging areas for travel portals. People could get here and back in no time."
Alex said it casually, but the idea hit like a key sliding into the right lock. Luda looked at Alex with honest approval.
"That's actually smart, Alex. That teleportation shit is hard to do. But Xiro has it mastered."
"That is smart. I'll figure out a way to make it simpler."
The idea clicked into place immediately. Not the full design yet, but the shape of it. My Call Cards already functioned as a combination of a communication link, an identity marker, and a magical handshake. If I modified the glyph structure, added a conditional Spatial Mana trigger, and tied the card to Castle Midnight's coordinates through my personal signature, then the guest wouldn't need to know space magick at all.
They'd only need to apply mana and accept.
My thoughts went inward.
"You know, I wonder if I can modify my Call Cards to produce the spell with a few glyphs?"
[Moon Sage: Tsukuyomi] answered with the calmness of a man who had already built the house while I was still discussing lumber.
"I am already producing the blueprints and construction order to modify the card's design. If the guests apply mana and accept, the card will create a portal that will bring them to Castle Midnight at the proper hours."
Of course he was.
God bless my walking quantum cheat sheet.
I smiled through the smoke, tapping ash into the tray on my desk.
"Well, my niggas, with that idea, I have transportation for the guest figured out. I appreciate everyone's help with all that."
I raised my hand, letting Omnis Mana gather above my palm.
The energy bloomed into a dark iridescent glow, black and violet-threaded with silver sparks. Concentrated magitons swirled in a tight sphere, humming softly as the room's smoke bent around it. The mana split into five smaller streams, each one flowing toward the desk and shaping itself in midair. Handles formed first. Then, thick glass bodies. Then foam. The Omnis Mana transmuted into sturdy mugs full of crispy, cool beer, golden and fresh with condensation beading along the sides.
Each mug landed on the desk with a soft clunk.
The smell of cold barley, hops, and faint honey cut through the weed smoke, crisp enough to make Alex sit up straighter. Luda grabbed his mug first. Steez grabbed his with snack dust still on his fingers. Jojo accepted his carefully, looking at the beer like this day had already defeated his old sense of normal. Alex lifted his high.
I grabbed mine last.
It was a celebration worth a toast.
To the Royal Player's Ball.
To the future of Velonica.
To my found family.
To the world that I would take by storm.
The Wolfpak continued to talk and joke while I focused on creating the cards for the Royal Player's Ball.
Their voices filled the Smoke Room with that perfect blend of bullshit and brotherhood, the type of background noise that made work feel lighter. Alex and Steez were arguing over who had the better fit ideas for the Ball, Luda was calmly explaining why neither of them should be trusted with decorative decisions, and Jojo kept chiming in with Human noble etiquette that sounded useful until Alex made fun of how stiff all of it was. The room stayed hazy with Elysian smoke, blue-gray clouds drifting beneath the indigo curtain light like the air had gotten lazy and decided to float instead of move. Empty mugs, half-eaten snacks, ashtrays, and crumbs decorated the desk and coffee table as evidence from a successful hangout.
Meanwhile, I had my hands hovering over the desk, threading creation magick through paper and glyphwork with the kind of focus that made everything else fade into muffled sound.
Since the cards were a modified version of my Call Cards, I figured I would name them Night Invitations. It felt right. Elegant enough for royalty, dark enough for me, and just dramatic enough to let every noble who received one know that the Devil of Velonica had taste. Each card formed from thin-cut blackwood, smooth as polished bone and dark enough to swallow most of the room's light. I layered an obsidium coating over them, letting the liquid-black mineral spread across the surface like syrup before hardening into a glossy armor. The edges sharpened into clean rectangles with rounded corners, each one carrying a subtle silver trim that shimmered when the smoke moved across it.
At the center of every invitation, I placed a crescent moon design.
The crescent looked decorative at first glance, carved in pale silver across the black surface, but the curve hid a special glyph inside its shape. The hidden pattern twisted in tiny runic strokes, tied to Spatial Mana, my personal signature, and Castle Midnight's coordinates. No complex chanting. No space magick knowledge. No long trip through bandit-infested roads with the chance of getting robbed.
Just mana, consent, and boom.
Royal travel with less drama.
I created three hundred and fifty of them, figuring that was enough. Especially if each invited person brought up to two guests. That was already a thousand possible bodies in my castle if everybody showed up. A thousand guests meant a thousand opportunities for politics, flirting, spying, assassination attempts, and somebody's cousin acting as if they had never been around royals before. The cards stacked themselves in neat rows across the desk, each one releasing a faint pulse of Yin Mana and Spatial Mana beneath the obsidium coating. Their glow was subtle, like moonlight trapped under black glass.
I picked up one of the cards and showed it to the rest of the Wolfpak.
Steez leaned forward first, eyes catching the hidden shimmer under the crescent.
"I fucks with these card designs. They even got the clan's symbol on it."
Luda took one between two fingers, flipping it over with calm appreciation. The obsidium surface reflected his emerald eyes through the smoke.
"Xi does make some really cool shit with his creation magick."
Alex snapped his fingers like the compliment had reminded him of something important. His red wings shifted behind him as he sat up straighter, eyes lighting with that specific expression he got when an idea had finally bullied its way into his head.
"Yo, speaking of cool shit... Xi, I need help to create a potion out of Arcanum Delights."
That grabbed my attention.
"A healing potion from the labyrinth fruit? That could be another great export for Talasi to make money."
Alex's grin widened, but it wasn't his usual reckless one. This had purpose behind it.
Alex pointed at me like I had just solved his whole thought before he could finish presenting it.
"See! I thought the same thing."
My brain immediately started running numbers and possibilities. Arcanum Delights were rare, powerful, and tied to Jerrica's Labyrinth, which meant anything created from them would have serious value. A healing potion derived from that fruit could become a premium export, especially if we found a way to farm, preserve, or reproduce the effect without burning through a limited resource. Talasi needed income streams beyond me being a walking magitech factory with trauma-powered innovation. A potion industry could put money in local hands, attract guild traffic, and give Alex something to help spearhead.
I tapped the stack of cards back into alignment.
"We'll talk it over in a second. Let me get these on out."
With the invitations ready and everything set to go, I stood from my chair and floated over to the window. The Smoke Room shifted behind me, voices trailing after my movement as my feet left the carpet. Indigo curtain light slid over my skin and horns as I drifted toward the glass. When I opened the window, smoke raced outside like the inside was on fire, pouring into the afternoon air in thick, lazy waves. The cloud spilled from Castle Midnight and unraveled under the cerulean sun, carrying the scent of Elysian flowers into the breeze.
Talasi stretched beneath me, alive and moving.
The rebuilt streets shimmered with silver-trimmed black asphalt, mana lamps, fresh rooftops, and construction crews still working on the parts of town that needed love. The castle's height gave me a clean view of the district below, where people walked, traded, argued, laughed, and lived beneath the shadow of a new era. Somewhere below, Aunt Glynis and Kyttin's cooking scents probably had the first floor smelling like a family reunion. Farther out, the northern side of town still carried older buildings and alleys where Talasi's past had not fully been polished away. From up there, Talasi didn't look like proof I belonged. Not exactly. But it looked like proof I had protected something real.
I held my hand outside the window and began converting magick into Yin Mana and Omnis Mana.
The energy gathered in my palm as a diamond shape, dark and iridescent, sharp at the top and bottom like a jewel cut from night itself. Yin Mana gave it depth and shadow, a cold black-violet glow that bent the sunlight around it. Omnis Mana filled it with raw possibility, naked magitons churning through the core like molten creation. The two energies braided together, one carrying traces of psions, the other carrying matter, until the diamond hummed against my skin.
I already knew I could create biodoll constructs. What I wondered now was whether I could use other soul types to pilot artificial bodies. Familiars were a common enough concept in magick, but common and me doing it rarely occupied the same room without breaking furniture.
My thoughts shifted inward.
"Yo, Tsukuyomi, are any of them souls I collected back after the first Taurus fight usable for a familiar?"
His calm voice answered without delay, smooth as moonlight across still water.
"All 23,741 souls are moldable with your [Absolute Soul Domination]. You can design them to do what you like, as they hold no consciousness."
That number still sounded crazy every time I heard it. A graveyard's worth of empty remnants I had carried since the aftermath of Goblin Cave's destruction.
Empty souls. No consciousness. No personhood left to violate. Just spiritual material that could be reshaped into something functional. Still, it wasn't beyond me that Frost was claiming I was some outsider who wouldn't respect the lives and souls of the people on Gaia, and there I was turning a fraction of rescued spirits into FedEx.
I couldn't say it was my best moment to prove my innocence.
But then again, I wasn't harmless.
That was the part that made everything complicated. I was the threat Frost truly feared. He was wrong about my heart, wrong about my loyalty, wrong about my place in this family, but he wasn't wrong that I could do terrifying shit with souls, bodies, and magick most people didn't understand. The only difference was that I was supposed to be on his team.
But whatever.
I poured the empty soul fragments into the structure carefully, shaping them without forceful cruelty. Spiritons flickered like pale ghostfire inside the diamond, then mixed with converted magitons and Nihility. The Nihility threaded through the cores as black static, sealing the forms with a strange pressure that made the air outside the window tremble. The diamond cracked. Thin lines of light split across its surface, widening until the whole shape shattered into hundreds of floating orbs.
Three hundred and fifty energy cores hovered outside the window.
Each orb pulsed once.
Then the cores morphed.
Black feathers unfolded first, forming from Dark Energy like ink drying into life. Wings stretched outward, sharp and glossy, each feather carrying a faint obsidian shimmer beneath the afternoon sun. Talons curved into place, silver-black and hooked. Beaks sharpened. Three eyes opened on every raven's face, each one glowing with a small violet flame. The center eye held the hidden coordinates and delivery command. Their bodies were artificial, but they moved with eerie precision, wings flexing in patient silence as they awaited my order.
Over three hundred three-eyed soul ravens floated outside Castle Midnight's window.
Dark Energy coated them like living shadow.
I looked over the murder of birds and gave the command.
"Deliver the Night Invitations. Avoid unnecessary stops. Necessary damage is between you and the dead body. Off you go."
The ravens moved at once.
Wings snapped open in a single thunderous rush, sending a gust through the window hard enough to stir the smoke behind me. Then the murder scattered into the afternoon sky, flying in a myriad of directions. Some cut north. Others dove eastward across the rooftops. Several shot west and south, trailing violet-black wisps as they gained altitude. Their three eyes burned like tiny stars as they carried the Night Invitations across Arcadia, each one programmed to deliver my message to its intended target.
The sight was beautiful in a dark ass way.
Like a flock of bad omens wearing formalwear.
Luda's voice came from behind me, dry as hell. "I see you copied my white ravens."
I didn't turn around right away. "I was hoping you wouldn't notice."
Jojo stepped closer to the window, his face partially hidden behind his beard, but his eyes were wide enough to tell me he understood the scale of what had just happened.
"Was that over 300 S-Class level soul birds?"
I glanced back at him, keeping my expression casual.
"Yeah, just something I was experimenting with."
Luda shook his head. "You couldn't just make envelopes fly, huh?"
"No, Potter, that's just silly."
Jojo stared at me for a long second. Then he looked at the others.
"He has no idea how crazy what he just did was."
He was probably right.
My ability to measure crazy had gotten warped somewhere between reincarnation and dating the Aeon of Death. After a certain point, "crazy" became a Tuesday with better tacos.
While glancing back out the window, I noticed something strange in the north side of town.
The cerulean sun reflected off a chunk of ice in an alley, catching my eye with a bright glint. It sat between two older buildings, out of place among the wood, stone, shadow, and half-rebuilt pathways. The north side alleys still had plenty of old Talasi in them—narrow lanes, patched walls, trash bins, stacked crates, and mana lamps buzzing against old boards. Ice could happen naturally in certain places on Gaia, sure, but not like that. Not in that alley. Not under that sun.
That was mana-made.
My eyelids lowered. I swiftly activated my [Kaleidoscope Eyes]. The world changed.
The Smoke Room, the window frame, the city below, all of it sharpened into layered truth. Colors split into hidden spectrums. Mana signatures became visible threads. Residual energy lifted off the alley like steam from a battlefield. Frost's signature marked the ice clearly, a cold silver-white pressure that clung to the frozen structure like his name had been carved into the spell. No surprise there.
What did surprise me was what I saw inside the ice.
A Sky Celestial and several Dark Elves were trapped in motion, still slow-thawing under the afternoon sun. They looked like sculptures made by a petty winter god with a sense of humor. The Sky Celestial hung with wings half-spread, dagger raised, face frozen in the exact moment arrogance realized it had clocked into the wrong shift. The Dark Elves were stuck around her in various stages of rushing, knives in hand, eyes wide, mouths open, bodies locked mid-ambush. One had a hand stretched out like he had been using a skill before Frost turned the entire alley into a freezer aisle.
I didn't need anybody to explain what happened.
Failed ambush.
They were muggers who picked the wrong target. Dumbasses who paid the price for judging wrong. I wondered if Frost saw the irony. Maybe Frost would hear it. Maybe a frozen mugger had a better chance of becoming a philosopher. Hard to say on Gaia.
I turned off my ocular ability and facepalmed.
I was kind of glad Frost didn't kill them, although he wouldn't have been wrong if he did. Talasi wasn't the place for robbing random people in alleys, especially not guests under my roof, even if one of those guests was a dick.
I told [Moon Sage: Tsukuyomi] to send a message to the gate guards before somebody thawed out and resumed being stupid.
Jojo's voice pulled me from the window.
"Hey, Xi, if you can just transmute energy and create anything you want, are you able to turn people into a sheep or something?"
Steez answered before I could, leaning back with a snack in hand and the confidence of a young urban man with swagger.
"He should turn their ass into an oil puddle."
I turned from the window with a sigh and walked back toward my desk.
"Only if my Battle Power and MP dominate theirs. Otherwise, it's a struggle to manipulate their mana and body during a fight for your life."
Jojo tilted his head.
"But who's stronger than you?"
That question made me laugh.
A real laugh, too. Not because the answer was simple, but because it wasn't. A month ago, I would've had several easy names. Now? Things had changed. Gaia's whole pressure had shifted. Still... Power was blooming across Arcadia like the planet had entered a season of monsters.
"Hahahahaha. I'm not sure, but I've felt the incredible growth of signatures all across Arcadia this last month-cycle."
Alex finally stood up, the sounds of his back poppin' echoing across the room as he reached upward in a lazy stretch. His red wings flexed behind him, feathers shifting before settling again.
"I'm finna head downstairs to grab something to eat."
Luda rose right after him, probably motivated by smell more than hunger, because that man had the nose of somebody spiritually connected to good food.
"I'm about to join you. I smelt something good when I first entered the hallway."
"Kyttin was cooking, but Aunt Glynis might have finished it for her."
That got everyone moving with more motivation than half our battles. The fellas proceeded to exit the room, steadily laughing and joking about Jojo stumbling with half-opened eyes. The Elysian Trees had caught up with him properly, and the former Hero of Mankind was walking like his legs were receiving delayed instructions from his brain. Alex teased him about needing a healing potion for noble drugs. Steez told him not to fall down the stairs because nobody wanted to explain that to Krystal. Luda clapped him on the shoulder and told him to breathe like a professional.
Jojo tried to maintain dignity.
He failed with honor.
I followed them to the door, watching the smoke swirl through the open hallway behind their movement. Their laughter rolled ahead of them, warm and stupid and familiar. Before I closed the door as the last one out, I turned and looked back at the Smoke Room.
The empty cups and ashtrays decorated the coffee table. Snack crumbs dotted the carpet near Steez's spot. The glass jar of Elysian Trees sat half-open on the desk beside stacks of comics, manga, and leftover Call Cards that hadn't been modified yet. The indigo curtains moved gently from the breeze coming through the window, stirring the last ribbons of smoke into slow spirals. The room smelled like weed, beer, old paper, chilled glass, and a comfort I didn't know how to name without sounding soft.
For a few minutes, I hadn't felt like some misplaced soul wearing a name I didn't deserve.
Just Xiro.
Their big brother.
Their king.
Their favorite bad influence with creation magick.
[End of Chapter]
[1] May on Earth