The Black Family's private skycruiser cut through the clouds above Ember Point like a dagger. Its plating shimmered with hexagonal seals and repulsion sigils, humming faintly beneath the hull. Within its sealed chamber, Oren Black sat in shackles, head bowed, pride broken.
Jareth didn't speak to him during the entire return flight.
He didn't need to.
Oren had lost more than his influence.
He had lost his mask.
Zara stood near the observation window, arms crossed.
"The council will pick at this for weeks. They'll question the timing, the leak, the duel. Some will claim you orchestrated the whole thing just to take Ember Point."
"I did," Jareth said quietly.
She turned, eyebrows raised.
"But not for the reasons they think," he added. "Not for power. Not yet."
He stared at the city below as the cruiser began descent into Raven Sector.
"I wanted them to see what happens when someone crosses the line."
---
Upon landing, Oren was escorted by six of the family's crimson-cloaked guards. Mireya did not appear to receive him. Her silence was a statement in itself.
Jareth walked behind them, expression unreadable.
The sector's internal security compound was a cold place. Functional. Sterile. Even the air carried no warmth. Oren was locked in a sound-sealed interrogation chamber without ceremony.
As the door hissed shut, Zara turned to Jareth.
"This is your opportunity. Strike now and finish the purge."
"No," Jareth said. "Not yet."
She narrowed her eyes.
"Every second you wait gives Mireya time to regroup."
He faced her.
"She's preparing for war. But if we strike without precision, we start it for her."
Zara didn't agree. But she respected it.
"Then at least hit her where it hurts. Quietly."
Jareth nodded.
And he already knew where to begin.
---
Two nights later, he stood inside an underground archive beneath the Hall of Bloodlines. Dim glyph-light lined the walls. Endless shelves of ancestral records, energy cores, and legacy scrolls filled the chamber.
Zara had acquired a name.
Vorian Kale.
A name buried in an otherwise mundane file.
But one with strong connections to Mireya's estate.
Officially, he was listed as a logistics officer.
Unofficially, he was her personal shadow operative. The one responsible for managing off-record transactions, disappearances, and falsified reports.
If Jareth wanted to sever Mireya's reach, Vorian had to disappear.
He activated the central node and scanned the records. Cross-referencing mission reports and teleportation logs, he found Vorian's last recorded movement.
A maintenance route through Sector Nine. Two days ago.
Too easy.
Which meant it was a trap.
And he would walk into it anyway.
---
Sector Nine was an industrial labyrinth. Endless tunnels, choked factories, broken air filters. The perfect place to vanish someone.
Jareth wore a cloaked shift-suit that bent light just enough to blend into shadows. His presence was suppressed. Even to energy-sensing cultivators, he barely registered as a flicker.
He stalked through a side corridor and slid through a vent duct. His eyes flicked over heat signatures below.
Five men.
Two stationed outside the storage vault. Three patrolling the perimeter.
One of them glowed faintly.
Vorian.
Jareth waited for a pattern.
Then dropped.
He landed silently behind one of the guards and struck.
Palm to throat. Knee to chest. Elbow to skull.
The body slumped.
Jareth dragged him into the shadows and vanished again.
The next two fell seconds apart.
He caught the third's blade mid-swing and twisted it free, stabbing the attacker through the ribs. He didn't kill them. Not yet.
Vorian turned, already drawing a sleek energy blade. His aura flared.
Stage Two Soul Realm. Mid phase.
Jareth stepped out of the shadows.
"You're smarter than Oren," he said.
Vorian didn't hesitate. He lunged, blade flashing in a curved arc.
Jareth ducked under it, swept Vorian's legs, and slammed a fist into his gut.
Vorian grunted and rolled away, slicing toward Jareth's ribs.
The blade grazed cloth, but not skin.
Jareth retaliated with a side kick that cracked ribs.
Vorian staggered, then activated a pulse glyph on his palm.
The air shimmered with a spatial ripple.
A teleport beacon.
Jareth cursed and sprinted forward.
Too late.
Vorian vanished in a flash of blue light.
But not alone.
Jareth had touched the glyph as it activated.
The space around him twisted and snapped.
Then darkness.
---
He landed hard on a concrete floor.
Light blinked overhead. Cracked fluorescent panels lit the underground space.
It smelled like ozone and burnt metal.
Vorian was ten meters away, hand bleeding from overuse of the glyph.
He stared in shock.
"You linked to the beacon?"
Jareth stood slowly.
"You're not the only one with tricks."
They faced each other again.
Vorian activated a black seal on his neck. Energy exploded outward.
His cultivation surged. Stage Three. Temporary boost.
A risky gambit.
Jareth adjusted his stance. He felt the pressure immediately.
Faster.
Heavier.
He let it come.
Vorian moved like a knife through water. Fluid. Precise.
Jareth caught the first strike, deflected the second, but the third carved across his thigh.
He winced and retaliated with a burst of his own soulforce.
The chamber shook.
Their fists collided mid-air.
A ripple of force flattened the surrounding crates.
Vorian's arm cracked at the elbow. He screamed.
Jareth closed the gap.
Two strikes to the ribs.
One to the temple.
Then he grabbed Vorian by the throat and slammed him into the wall.
Blood dripped from both of them.
"You'll tell me everything."
Vorian laughed, weakly. "She'll kill me either way."
"I'm worse," Jareth said.
And meant it.
---
An hour later, Vorian lay unconscious, drugged and bound in a bioseal capsule.
Zara met Jareth at the outskirts of Raven Sector.
"You look terrible."
"He stabbed me," Jareth muttered.
"Where is he?"
"Storage level beneath the old reactor. I have what we need."
He handed her a data chip.
"The communication logs. Mireya's orders. Assassination lists."
Zara's eyes narrowed. "How bad?"
"She ordered the hit on my father."
Silence hung between them.
"She didn't just want him out of the way," Jareth said. "She needed the seat vacant. She knew the elders would be too fractured to act. She's been planning this for years."
"And you?"
"I'm ending it."
---
The next day, Jareth stood before the High Tribunal Assembly.
The hall was quiet. Only essential personnel had been summoned. Three of the nine elders presided. The rest watched from projection nodes.
Zara stood behind Jareth.
Mireya stood across from him.
Perfectly composed.
She smiled.
"Interesting accusation, nephew. You must be quite desperate."
Jareth said nothing. Instead, he activated the chip.
The chamber filled with voices.
Mireya's voice. Vorian's replies. Time stamps. Coordinates. Execution orders.
Every detail laid bare.
When the projection ended, silence returned.
Mireya didn't flinch.
One of the elders leaned forward.
"Lady Mireya. Do you deny these charges?"
"I do," she said, tone serene. "These recordings could have been fabricated. Any half-competent agent could simulate them."
Another elder stirred. "Vorian Kale has been detained. He confirms the recordings."
Mireya finally turned to look at Jareth.
There was no fear.
Only cold calculation.
"You should have killed me when you had the chance."
"I considered it," Jareth replied. "But I want the family to see you fall."
Mireya stepped forward, raising both hands.
"Then let them watch."
Her aura erupted.
Stage Four.
Everyone staggered back.
Jareth braced.
But it wasn't an attack.
Mireya was burning her core.
"Fool," Zara whispered. "She's detonating."
"Seal the chamber," Jareth ordered.
Too late.
Mireya smiled one last time.
And vanished in a burst of black flames.
The room shook violently. Protective glyphs activated, shielding the elders.
Jareth stood in the aftermath, smoke swirling around him.
Only silence remained.
---
Later, after the chaos subsided and the ashes were cleaned, Jareth stood outside the family tombs.
His father's name etched in obsidian.
Mireya's name would never appear there.
She had erased herself.
But not before showing him just how deep this war ran.
Zara approached, arms crossed.
"She's gone."
"Not entirely," Jareth replied.
"She failed."
"Yes. But someone funded her. Someone gave her the escape glyph. Someone stronger than she ever was."
Zara's face hardened. "Which means the game's bigger than we thought."
Jareth nodded.
"We've only just begun."