The golden hour in Akogwa was not merely a position of the sun; it was a symphony of three cosmic gears turning in unison. High above inside the crystal dome of the terrarium, the Celestial Lantern was in its full, frantic glory. Its seven golden circlet wheels spun at top speed, scattering the brilliant golden fire of the Empyrean pearl to the Lumen pearls, who in turn project it across the world. Simultaneously, the Sun—that massive golden mountain—crested the horizon in his cosmic chariot, its heat filtered through the nine layers of the Astraposphere. Beneath it all, the Primordial Light had emerged from its home dimension of Ina to flood the world, while the Primordial Darkness retreated back into the depths of Giza.
Inside the throne room of the Continental Capital, the light caught the edges of Amunatum Memnonegus's Fulani braids, turning the albino King into a statue of living gold. He sat upon the throne of the Servitor Supreme, his Djedi spine perfectly straight—a pillar of absolute immunity.
Before him stood the High Table, the air thick with the weight of Nommo.
"The sky brings the rain, yet the earth must be ready for the harvest," said Arora Lakshmi, the Authority on Narrative Independence, her voice carrying the cadence of a formal Dibia log. "A King without a Queen is a sky that holds its water. The blessing of Aye requires the union of the two.".
Amunatum did not blink. His yellow aura remained a calm, flat lake. "The water falls regardless of the earth's desire," he replied, his voice devoid of the passion the council sought. "Logic dictates that the function of the state is maintained by the Ministries. The machine is already efficient?"
"Efficiency is the ghost of order, not its soul," countered Azure Oba, the Authority on Military Might. The Mesomorphe shifted, his red aura flickering like a banked fire. "A man who cannot feel the warmth of a fire can still be consumed by it. You are invulnerable, Horizon, but the Kingdom is not.".
Amunatum looked down at his own hands. He knew they were right in theory, but theory was a cold thing. Due to his Djedi Constitution, he could walk through a forest fire and feel no heat; he could eat the most bitter wormwood and find no reason to grimace. Marriage was a social contract he understood intellectually, but the "pleasure" they spoke of—the "Huenergy" of love—was a frequency he simply could not tune into.
The debate was interrupted by a low, rhythmic thrumming from the floor. A Dibia messenger entered, his face pale.
"Servitor Supreme," the messenger began, his voice trembling. "The reports from the Booliska have been confirmed. It is not just missing persons. A Mufarikha cell has been detected in the lower sectors. They are taking children—and only those under seven"".
For the first time that day, the multiplier of the Zenith Force within Amunatum's blood seemed to hum. He did not care for the politics of marriage, but the presence of Iku (entropy) was a challenge to the order he represented.
"Court adjourned," Amunatum said, standing up. The pyramidion at his side began to glow as its internal eye of Ra sensed his intent. "However the High Table may continue their Discourse on my lineage under their tree."