The coordinates led them into contested space.
Not lawless, not imperial, but something far more dangerous.
Gray territory.
Regions claimed by paper authority, enforced by habit and fear rather than true control. Places where regional lords ruled like kings so long as they paid tribute upward and kept disasters contained. Crimson Hawk's expansion had already begun to erode these fragile balances, and now Vahn was stepping directly into the fault lines.
The portal closed behind them with a low hum.
Vahn and Renka emerged onto a floating platform of black stone, suspended above a vast city carved into layered rings around a planetary core. Rivers of light flowed between districts. Defensive arrays pulsed faintly beneath the architecture, old but still lethal.
"This is Lord Kaelron's seat," Renka said quietly, recognizing the sigils etched into the stone. "Regional Lord of the Eastern Spiral Corridor."
Vahn nodded. "A buffer lord."
Renka glanced at him. "Meaning?"
