(Planet Ixtal, The Skyshard Family Temporary Shelter, Leo’s POV)
Ever since Ixtal had been reduced to dust under the Righteous Faction’s purge, there were very few places left on the planet that could still be considered reliable shelter, which was why the Skyshard family, much like the rest of the survivors, had been forced into temporary housing clustered around Soron’s castle, the only structure sturdy enough to anchor what little safety remained.
*Step*
*Step*
As Leo stepped inside the makeshift dwelling, the cramped interior and narrow living space struck him immediately, not with discomfort, but with a quiet sense of familiarity, as the worn walls and low ceiling reminded him of the housing colony back on Earth where he, Elena, and Luke had once lived through days that were far harsher than this.
Back then, they had owned almost nothing.
And yet, as children, neither he nor Luke had ever truly felt deprived, because even in those tight, unforgiving spaces, there had been warmth, shared meals, and the unspoken certainty that they were not facing the world alone.
"This brings back some memories..."
Leo mused softly, as he lowered himself onto the narrow bed with a small laugh, pulling Amanda along with him without ceremony, the worn mattress dipping under their combined weight while the children continued to race around the tiny space, their bare feet thudding against the floor as laughter bounced off the walls.
For a while, Leo simply lay there, one arm tucked behind his head and the other resting loosely around Amanda’s shoulders, as he watched Caleb chase Mairon in uneven circles, the two of them shrieking with delight as they leapt onto the bed and scrambled off again, completely unbothered by the cramped space or the ruin that waited beyond these walls.
It was loud.
Chaotic.
Messy.
And yet, for the first time in longer than he could remember, Leo felt no urge to control it.
No instinct to impose order, no need to silence the noise, as the sound of their laughter settled into his chest in a way that felt more comforting than any victory he had ever claimed.
*Shift*
Amanda shifted slightly beside him, her head resting against his shoulder as she watched the same scene with a softness in her eyes that Leo rarely saw directed outward anymore, her fingers absentmindedly tracing slow circles against his chest.
After a while, she spoke.
"Are you planning on meeting Soron today? Or are we going to enjoy a couple days of quiet before you do?"
She asked quietly, not pressing, not demanding, as if she already knew the answer but wanted to hear it from him all the same.
Leo did not respond immediately.
Instead, he turned his head just enough to watch Caleb launch himself onto the bed again, only to bounce off and collapse into giggles, while Mairon followed a heartbeat later, less confident but no less eager, the two of them rolling together in an uncoordinated tangle of limbs.
A faint smile tugged at Leo’s lips.
"Soon," he said at last, his voice low and unhurried, as he reached out and caught Mairon mid-jump, lifting him effortlessly before setting him back down beside Caleb. "But first... let me enjoy this for a moment."
Amanda looked up at him then, really looked, and something in her expression softened even further.
Leo exhaled slowly as he watched the children scramble over the bed again, their joy absolute and uncomplicated, as the universe outside faded into something distant and unimportant, and for this one fragile stretch of time, he allowed himself to simply be here.
Not as the Shadow Dragon.
Not as a conqueror.
Not as a symbol.
But just as a father lying on a too-small bed, surrounded by laughter, as his children jumped around him without a care in the universe.
—-----------
(Meanwhile, back at the Universal Government Administrative Department)
The report was compiled without ceremony, as most reports of this nature always were, its language precise, restrained, and deliberately stripped of emotion, even as the implications beneath its clean formatting carried far more weight than the words themselves ever would.
SUBJECT: Cult Asset Status Review
DESIGNATION: Third Elder
CLASSIFICATION: Deep Cover Operative
STATUS: Non-Responsive
It detailed the timeline methodically, as the last confirmed transmission from the Third Elder was logged several days prior, followed by a succession of failed contact attempts conducted through layered channels, astral relays, and emergency fallback signals, each one returning the same result: silence.
No confirmation pings.
No encoded distress responses.
No signs of interception that could be verified.
The analysts who assembled the report avoided speculation, as protocol demanded, yet the conclusion was inevitable, and so it was written plainly near the bottom of the page.
ASSESSMENT: Given the duration of non-response and the absence of retrievable signal residue, Asset Third Elder is to be presumed neutralized until further notice.
The report was finalized, encrypted, and transmitted upward within minutes, its arrival marked by a subtle chime inside a private office buried deep within the administrative spire, far removed from public chambers and ceremonial halls.
A senior official sat behind a broad wooden desk as the data scrolled before him, his fingers steepled beneath his chin while his eyes moved steadily from line to line, as though committing each detail to memory rather than reacting to it.
When he reached the final assessment, he exhaled slowly.
"The loss of a top asset right before a big event is never a good sign," he muttered, as his gaze drifted toward the towering window behind his desk, where the distant glow of the city pulsed behind him.
*Tap*
He tapped the edge of the desk once, thoughtfully, as his mind moved several steps ahead, connecting threads that had not yet been spoken aloud.
The neutralization of the Third Elder at such a critical time could hint that the Cult might be on to their plans already—
"And yet," he continued softly, as a thin, humorless smile touched his lips, "it is already too late for them to change anything, even if they somehow managed to catch and interrogate the Third Elder."
He said as he straightened slightly, his expression settling back into professional indifference, as if the loss of a life, even a deeply embedded one, was no more than an inconvenient variable for the Righteous Faction whose victory in this war was all but guaranteed.