It was a scene torn from the wildest corners of fantasy.
A massive floating citadel drifted through the skies, anchored to an obsidian mountain. Around these radiant structures whose bases shimmered with waves of purple and gold—draconic hybrids soared in a synchronized, spiraling formation. They formed a colossal ring nearly a hundred miles wide as they looked like a legion that would endlessly die before a single mile of the land they protected ever came to harms way.
Hundreds of thousands of them.
A vast legion of purple-gold beings, each unique in size and shape, their jagged spines tipped with gleaming crystals of violet and blue. They bore wings and features reminiscent of dragons, their visages regal and fierce.
This was the product of Draconian Pathogenicity V—a terrifying advancement, and a breathtaking one.
Anyone witnessing the sight would freeze in awe... and then, wisely, run.
Inside the floating kingdom, Achilles sat at the heart of a critical meeting between powerful figures.
And strangely, of all the things he had done, this...this moment of diplomacy and discussion was the hardest.
Assimilating power was easy. A touch, an extension of energy, and the essence became his.
Fighting powerful enemies was easier still. With the layered complexity of his existence and the Assimilations that lived inside him, victory came naturally.
Even revered Titan Dwarf techniques like Runescripture posed no real challenge. The memories of his Assimilations and the crafting genius of the Organic Ancient Forgestone flowed through him now.
Speaking with others?
That, he was still learning.
The hardest thing Achilles faced at this moment, more than any monstrous foe or ancient entity, was something far quieter—imposter syndrome.
He had expected it to fade. It hadn't.
It still lingered, gnawing at the back of his mind. Like now, standing before Dr. Shaw, the leaders of Neon, and the True Magitech Throne of an entire Dynasty. He wore the metaphorical crown. He commanded the skies. And still, he felt like he was pretending to be someone greater than he was.
To hide it, he wore a carefully neutral expression. Observant. Silent.
It probably made him seem cold. Distant. Maybe arrogant.
But really, he was just trying not to crack.
Trying to hold things together until the role felt real.
Until the day he could say with certainty... I am Achilles Adrastia Maxwell. The Ninth Adrastia Emperor King! The Last Adrastia Emperor King!
Until that day came, he learned.
And only one person ever seemed to know what he was thinking.
Seated beside him, Rose gently squeezed his hand every so often, as if she could read the storm in his mind. As if she were saying, You're doing more than fine.
He would keep learning.
More than half an hour passed as talks continued between the Kingdom of Neon and the Magitech Colony Dynasty. All the while, the Titan Dwarves floated across the skies above Neon, observing its people.
Those people still had their cameras raised, still gasping in wonder at the sight of draconic hybrids encircling the floating kingdom.
The world was changing. Foreign technologies. New forces. Unknown threats.
And the leaders above were learning things grim enough to turn any stomach.
Seraphelle, the Draconic Eidolarch, and King Darrun Flamewake had just finished delivering their overview of the Ancient Forces.
The face of the True Magitech Throne appeared on the screen, her tanned features somber beneath her gleaming frame. Her voice carried a weight that silenced the room.
"Nine Supreme Forces," she repeated, "each hosting beings far beyond Astral Core Ascension? Entirely separate from the Ancient Holy Lands and Ancient Ones we've already faced? And on top of that... there are Mythological Creatures, titanic in scale—large enough to dwarf this entire kingdom—and they roam freely across this plane?"
Her words struck like thunder. Even Seraphelle only gave a nod in response.
Silence followed. A heavy, suffocating quiet.
Dr. Shaw, Luna, Nyxaria, Overseer Jackson, and the other Overseers said nothing.
And then, Achilles broke the silence.
"Pass this information to the other Dynasties," he said calmly. "Let the Dynasty Keepers know. And prepare."
"Prepare?" The True Magitech Throne shook her head, her smile wry with quiet despair.
"My entire Dynasty holds wonders like the Frames you see around you," she said. "I've only just reached Astral Core Ascension. I've barely begun to fill my bones with Astral Energy. My brother? Useless."
"If even a single Ancient One at our level entered, they could wipe out the entire Dynasty. Millions dead. We'd be helpless. Just like Thornveil, which was unfortunate enough to be near an Ancient Holy Land—we could be wiped off the map in hours."
Her tone was steel. Her eyes glowed with eerie clarity as she turned to face Achilles directly.
And yet, despite the bleakness of her words, there was a shift. A glimmer of something more.
"Preparation isn't enough. The humans of the Colony Dynasties are scattered. Even if we wanted to help each other, we couldn't—not in time. If these Ancient Ones descend upon our cities, we face only two choices: suffer mass casualties… or kneel."
She paused. The silence returned. Then her voice came again, steady and sharp.
"What the Dynasties need… is unity. Divided, we are weak. Alone, we fall. But together...maybe we stand a chance. And it seems… that chance might be you."
Her gaze pierced him. Achilles blinked.
Of all the possibilities he had considered, this one hadn't even ranked.
"Yes. You," she said.
"You lifted your Kingdom of Neon into the skies. That obsidian mountain, too. You've made them float, effortlessly—and nobody has asked how. If you can do this to other Colony Cities… if you can break their chains to the Evolutius Catacombs and bring them into the sky… then you may be the one capable of uniting the fractured colonies of the Thirteen Dynasties under a common banner. Under a shared enemy."
Her words settled like stone.
And for a long moment, no one said a word.