The War Room of the High Citadel was a chamber of oppressive gravity. Thick walls of reinforced minerals were engraved with the glowing sigils of the Pillars of Harmonic and Dynamic Force. At the center of the room, a massive holographic table displayed the shifting borders of the Psychorealm and the physical territories currently under dispute.
Libaax Akoma sat at the head of the long obsidian table. He was the "Negusa Nagast" today—his Prismatic White Aura was held in a tight, disciplined corona, and his face was a mask of cold, "Online" detachment.
Around him sat the High Table.
"The rebellion in the Southern Sector is refusing to yield to the Vow of Peace," the Authority on Military Might (Azure Oba) droned, pointing to a flickering red zone on the map. "They claim the Investiture is a sham. If we do not deploy the full might of the Abambowa now, we risk a total collapse of the Belief System in that region. My King, we need your signature on the Purge Decree."
The room went silent. A Purge Decree was a death sentence for thousands. The High Table watched Libaax, expecting the "Righteous Fury" or the "Cold Calculation" they were used to.
Libaax reached for the digital stylus, his mind focused on the grim necessity of order.
Then, it hit him.
It wasn't a wave of pain. It was a sudden, effervescent burst of Yellow Huenergy.
Miles away in the Archives, Ahia Senan had just discovered a rare, ancient manuscript on the Floraverse Unity. Her Alive Heartstate had spiked with pure, unadulterated Curiosity. Through the Ifunanya bond, that feeling of "Wonder" and "Discovery" slammed into Libaax's chest, bypassing all his logical defenses.
Libaax's hand froze over the Purge Decree.
His eyes, which had been icy and distant, suddenly sparkled. A warmth—vivid and fizzy—flushed through his veins. To the absolute horror and confusion of the High Table, the King of Kings didn't scowl.
He smiled.
It wasn't the "Prince Charming" smile curated by the Ministry of Media. It was a small, genuine, and utterly private lopsided grin—the smile of a child who had just seen something of a kind beautiful for the first time.
"My liege?" the Authority on Military Might stammered, his own aura flickering in shock. "Did... did I misspeak? Is the purge... amusing?"
Azure Oba leaned forward, his 7-foot frame tensing. He saw the flicker of Yellow at the edges of Libaax's Prismatic White spectrum were unusually bright. She's in his head, Azure realized with a jolt of alarm. Right now.
Libaax snapped back to reality. The "Yellow" curiosity receded, leaving him feeling strangely hollow in the cold War Room. He cleared his throat, his face snapping back into its stone-cold mask, though the warmth lingered in his eyes.
"No," Libaax said, his voice deep and steady. "The Purge is not amusing. In fact, it is unimaginative. If they question the Belief System, then we shall provide a miracle, not a massacre. Authority azure, redraw the plans for a Harmonic Convergence event. We will win them with love, not iron."
The Authorities began to whisper in frantic confusion.
Libaax stood up, his cloak sweeping behind him.
"Council adjourned," he commanded.
The Corridor
Libaax strode down the hall, his heart hammering against his ribs. Azure trailed him, his heavy footsteps echoing.
"That was close, brother," Azure rumbled once they were out of earshot. "You almost signed a peace treaty with a smile while I was talking about blood. The High Table is going to think you've been hexed by a Mufarikha."
"I felt her, Azure," Libaax whispered, stopping by a window that looked out toward Orizu. "She wasn't even trying. She was just... happy. About a book, I think. How can one person's joy outweigh the politics of an entire realm?"
"Because you've been starving for it for one hundred and twenty years," Azure said, his Blue Aura pulsing with sympathy. "But Libaax, if her emotions can change your military strategy, you're not just a man in love. You're a King with a back door to his moea. You need to get to that Cyberrealm meeting. You need to caution her to be careful with what she feels."
Libaax looked at his palm. with a grin, where the Vow-mark still shimmered.
"I don't want her to be careful. I want to know what else she sees."