The Obsidian Accord was not just a treaty. It was a myth, whispered through encrypted comm-channels, slipped into data fragments encoded in forgotten languages, and referenced only in the most secure halls of interstellar diplomacy. According to legend, it predated the Celestial Council itself. It was a pact older than unity, forged during an era when star systems tore each other apart in brutal resource wars.
Now, Raidan stood on the precipice of awakening that forgotten accord.
He leaned back in his chair aboard the Silver Eidolon, his fingers steepled in front of him, the display before him filled with ancient legal code and a crumbling star map—the kind drawn before navigational AI even existed. It had taken everything to retrieve this: bribes, favors, a diversion in the orbital archives of the Polaris Syndicate, and a small war on a data pirate moon that was wiped clean before the authorities ever noticed.
But he had it now. The Obsidian Accord.
And that changed everything.
