A Flight to The Yaarou Western Compound

[The Yaarou Clan]

[Continued From Here]


Morning came softly to New Vorelia.. as it always did.

The first light spilled over the peaks of the Strata Mountains in pale bands of gold, washing across the city of white stone until its countless bridges and terraces seemed to glow from within. Bells echoed somewhere beneath the clouds, announcing the beginning of another day to a civilization that had spent five thousand years greeting each sunrise as though it were a victory unto itself.

Far below the Hall of Luminaries, beyond the city districts and the ascending lifts that carried hunters toward the mountain gates, rested a secluded aerodrome carved directly into the eastern cliffs.

The runways had been cleared before sunrise. And only a handful of Inuki attendants remained on duty, assigned to guard the only vessel resting upon the tarmac. They weren't told much about it other than it was the Xhi'on's transport vehicle, but they couldn't help but notice that it possessed none of heraldry they expected of an incredibly opulent clan. There were no banners or gilded crests carved along the hull proclaiming noble ownership. Instead, the jet's obsidian surface was sleek and seamless, interrupted only by narrow silver inlays that traced elegant patterns from nose to tail.

It rested upon the polished landing platform like a shard of midnight, and even idle, it seemed to radiate something difficult to describe. Not merely power or pride.. but authority. The effortless extravagance of a civilization so wealthy it no longer needed to display its wealth.

But despite all its beauty and allure, none of them dared ventured near the aircraft.

—

It was barely an hour past dawn when Sevrin crossed the platform at an unhurried pace.

The mountain wind tugged gently at his robes as he adjusted the black blindfold covering his empty eyes.

He looked calm, and well rested after a night spent in the care of New Vorelia’s finest amenities. Following his meeting within the Hall of Luminaries, the Elder was encouraged to eat, sleep, and replenish. He found himself surprised at the lengths the Inuki went to aiding the Yaarou's refugees. But despite that, Sevrin's thoughts were elsewhere this morning.

The conversation with the Grand Luminary had lingered with him throughout the night.. Tales and discussions of demonic entities… fraught with eldritch powers, tied to abhorrent realms. The Yaarou were no strangers to the otherness of the Unseen. And though he'd learn better than to doubt the will and ambition of their Xhi'on, Sevrin couldn't help but think that her proclivity to throw caution to the wind was.. foolhardy.

“...”

Even now, as his footsteps reached the tarmac, the final words Hitomi shared with him at the Athenaeum weighed heavily on his head. The fact that she truly intended to take on the Trial of Pale Shadows was evidence of her gross disregard for anything other than her own capabilities.. And that experience was the only teacher she’d ever listened to.

For nearly three thousand years every practitioner of the Yaarou's telepathic branch of the Ephemeral Arts had surrendered their sight willingly upon the altar of perception— just as the first Xhion, the originator of the rite had done before them.

It was less a technique than it was a covenant. A sacred pact. But Hitomi had dismissed it all in matter of words. As she had done everything else that would deter or stall or goals. And Sevrin still couldn't decide if her confidence comforted him, or only terrified him further.

In time, Sevrin passed by the Inuki guard detail, who greeted him with nods and keen bows before he reached the lower boarding stairs of the Jet. There, two Yaarou attendants were standing in anticipation of his arrival.

“Elder Sevrin.” They bowed deeply. “Lady Yaarou is waiting for you.”

Sevrin tilted his head and climbed aboard without another word. Once he reached the top, he took a long, deep breath to steady himself before he proceeded through the threshold.

The cabin greeted him with silence.

The interior bore little resemblance to the military transports he had flown aboard throughout his life. The Xhi'on's aircraft had been designed less as a vessel and more as a private residence capable of drifting through the clouds.

Dark walnut paneling lined the walls between broad windows that stretched nearly from floor to ceiling. Shelves of polished ebony housed hundreds of carefully catalogued volumes, many rescued from the libraries of Qiyoto before its destruction. Works of art occupied illuminated alcoves between them, while a long conference table of black marble ran through the center of the cabin— untouched save for a silver tray of tea that had long since gone cold.

Sevrin's gaze drifted across all of it before his attention was drawn to the rear of the cabin, and that's where he found her.

Hitomi occupied the seat nearest the panoramic window, where the morning sun danced along the white silk of her robes. One slender leg rested neatly across the other, and an immense leather-bound tome lay open upon her lap.

The embossed seal of the Inuki Athenaeum gleamed softly across its weathered cover, while several others were stacked on the table. One look at the faint shadows beneath her crimson eyes told Sevrin everything he needed to know. Hitomi had never gone to bed, and had likely never stopped reading since last night.

She was engrossed. She never so much as lifted her head to acknowledge his arrival while he adjusted his cloak.

Across from her sat Elder Ayune.

Her hands remained folded carefully within her lap, and she greeted Sevrin with a gentle smile that failed to conceal the tension gathered within her shoulders. He hadn't seen her since their arrival, but she too looked well rested. Composed. Yet every muscle in her posture suggested she had not truly relaxed since Qiyoto fell.

At her side sat Elder Jhun. And despite being a man who Sevrin would have described as a steadfast pillar that had steadied the Yaarou through generations of uncertainty.

Today, he just looked tired. Both physically, and spiritually.

His eyes lingered on Hitomi only for moments at a time before quietly retreating elsewhere, as though prolonged eye contact risked inviting a conversation neither elder wished to have. When he met Sevrin's gaze, he greeted him with a nod.

Both he and Ayune arrived one after each other less than an hour ago. But the silence upon the cabinet was stagnant and thick. Other than the hum of the engine, it was as if no one had made a sound since their arrival.

Sevrin understood immediately.

Neither of them had spoken to her. Not since Qiyoto.. where the decisions they made during her absence ultimately condemned their homeland dust. And judging from the rigidity in their shoulders, and the fatigue on their faces, neither of them knew whether forgiveness was even possible. Or whether their sentence had merely been.. postponed.

It was a feeling that Sevrin was intimately familiar with.

He crossed the cabin at an unhurried pace before stopping beside the conference table.

"Elder Jhun... Elder Ayune." He said a warm expression. "It is good to see you both in good health."

Ayune returned the smile, though it carried unmistakable fatigue. "And you, Sevrin. The Inuki appear to have treated you well."

"They have." He nodded warmly. "They have shown more kindness than I expected."

"Indeed," Jhun answered quietly. "For all our differences... They have surpassed my every expectation." His voice faltered almost imperceptibly. "..they accommodate us as if we were their own. A notion the Yaarou will not soon forget.”

“No, I imagine we won't.” Hitomi said suddenly, without lifting her eyes from the book. “..considering the destruction of Qiyoto will be a rather haunting reminder of their hospitality.. for as long as we live.”

She said with a quiet menace behind her words that sent a shiver down all three spines seated at this table.

“You are late.”

Still, she never looked up to him. But Sevrin could feel his heart plummet into his stomach like a rock. He blinked once before lowering his head. "My apologies, Lady Xhi'on. Before I arrived, I—”

“You may keep your apologies, and your excuses.” Hitomi said as she flipped to the next page, and wrote something down on a nearby notepad. “..fortunately for you, we're not yet ready for takeoff.”

Elder Jhun looked up, his fatigued eyes narrowed in confusion. “..my Lady? Are we awaiting another?”

“We are.”

“Commander Keiko..” Sevrin stated less than asked. But Hitomi simply shook her no.

“The Commander is still recovering from wounds she sustained in her valiant stand against the Serpent. But she has supplied an adequate replacement.”

“Replacement?” Ayune inclined her head. But then, Sevrin grunted with a narrowed gaze.

“Yatagané.” The word slithered through his teeth, quiet like a slur or a foul phrase. Hitomi smiled, without looking up from the tome.

“She should be joining us soon.”

Tension gathered about the cabin like a haze following her words.

Minutes passed, each one somehow longer than the last, and still no one spoke.

Before long, the silence became almost tangible.. so much so that Sevrin found himself fixating on sounds that would have otherwise slipped his notice; from the rhythmic pulse of the engines idling beneath the cabin floor, to the delicate whisper of pen gliding along parchment. His blind eyes were useless, yet years of habit caused his face to turn toward Hitomi all the same.

She had not stopped writing. Not for one second.. Even as their conversation drifted around her like leaves caught in a current, she remained.. incessant. It was as though everything and everyone else aboard the aircraft occupied only the very periphery of her awareness. All but this tome and her pad of notations.

Sevrin could not help himself. He inhaled slowly, done now with the reflective quiet.

"My Lady. Speaking of the Commander and her sacrifice, I wish to speak regarding the decisions made during your—"

"No." She answered gently. Yet the word arrested him, as if she'd struck him across the face.

He hesistated. “..my Lady?"

"I already know what you're going to say.”

Her hand never stopped moving.

“You believed there was no other way..”

She turned another page.

“..that preserving the bloodline outweighed every decision.. and that victory would absolve any methods used to obtain it.”

She jotted another note.

"You probably believed I would never awaken.. ”

Her words were delivered with the detached cadence of someone reciting historical facts. Yet the Elders could feel her disappointment within them.

Jhun lowered his head.

Ayune folded her hands more tightly within her lap.

Even Sevrin found himself unable to summon words he had rehearsed throughout the night.

Hitomi simply scoffed and continued reading. The conversation, in her mind, appeared already concluded.

“My Xhi'on..” Jhun swallowed, and gathered himself before he retorted. “Please.. allow us to explain. There is.. more to our reasoning.”

“Oh?” Hitomi suddenly stopped writing, and at last, she closed the tome. “..so there is another reason why you released my grandfather, incited war against the Shi in my absence, and destroyed all of Qiyoto in the process?”

None of them answered her. Sevrin wanted to though.. He wanted to tell her that it was their fear in her inexperience, her impulsivity, and relentless arrogance that ignited his distrust in their Xhi'on. But he wouldn't dare. Not after everything he'd seen her accomplish, and especially not after Hayate's prodigious mistake.

Her crimson gaze held daggers to all of their necks as she finally looked upon her embarrassing council, measuring whether any among them possessed the courage to say aloud what they truly believed. But when none of them did, a feint add frigid smile touched her lips.

“How sad..” She leaned back in her chair, watching them fidget in their seats, “..Is there anything more to you all than fear?”

[Rinnala Yaarou]

The light of Xelphis did not merely rise; it conquered. As the star’s first rays kissed the jagged horizon of New Vorelia, the Eastern Highlands were forcibly reclaimed from the shroud of night. Coral light, vibrant and hungry, bled across the peaks, abolishing the black veil that had, only moments before, saturated the hearts of the Inuki with an oppressive, familiar fear.

For the Inuki, fear was a secondary skin. They wore their exhaustion openly, their faces etched with the fatigue of a people who had held the line against a siege spanning five millennia. Five thousand years of holding back the dark would thin any bloodline, yet as the light pierced the gloom, Rinalla Yatagane felt a phantom warmth on her cheeks.

It was a memory, a soft echo from a time before the weight of the realms rested on her shoulders. She could see her mother’s face, clear as the morning air, cupping Rinalla’s chin in her calloused hands.

"My little Mud-bloom..." her mother had whispered, her voice a balm against the grief of a lost sister. "Even when you are not ready for the day, even when the weight of the world feels anchored to your soul... remember this."

A coy, knowing smile surfaced in Rinalla’s mind’s eye, so vivid she could almost feel the phantom heat of her mother's touch.

"It cannot always be night," Rinalla whispered, her own lips finishing the proverb.

The memory faded, leaving her standing on the precipice of a cold reality, but the encouragement remained—a necessary push to move beyond the rut she had inhabited for weeks. Her body still ached; the injuries sustained during the raid on the Denkou-Shi underground base were deep, reaching into the marrow. She had pushed herself to the absolute brink, fueled by a desperate need for the restorative prestige that would come with slaying the Nether Serpent. She had sought to wash the Yatagane name clean in the blood of a god-monster.

Instead, the mission had been a harrowing embarrassment.

Though she had survived—and even managed to dismantle the AION construct she faced—the victory felt like ash in her mouth. She was a Yaarou elite, a shadow who answered only to her commander, the Elders, and the X’hion herself. With thousands of confirmed kills, she was supposed to be the pinnacle of Yaarou lethality. A failure was still a failure

And Rinnala did not fail.

"And for fucking what?" she spat into the wind. "The Nether Serpent wasn’t even there."

He had been her obsession for a decade, the "Crowned Jewel of Shame" that sat upon her house's legacy. But the surveillance data she’d recovered from the AION had changed everything. Looking at the sheer scale of the devastation the Serpent left in his wake, a weighted diamond of reality settled in her gut. She wouldn't have been able to get near him. She was a candle flickering before a hurricane.

She needed power. Not just the strength of a soldier, but the evolution of an apex predator. And there was only one being in Edo who represented that shift: Hitomi, the X’hion.

Rinalla’s gaze drifted toward the "Breach" in the distance. Even from here, the earth seemed to murmur with malice. The Acheri—whatever these demonic entities truly were—were sowing death into the very soil. The wind carried the scent of ozone and rot. Casually, Rinalla pulled a cigarette from her purse, her fingers steady despite the whispers of the blackened earth. Gleaming in the light as it bounced off her Rings of Onryo.

As she struck a light, her eyes—outfitted with her Hex Artifacts—glimmered. The prisms contained her Azure Flame, twinkling like captured stars in the morning light. If she could master this flame, if she could harness it, she could bend even time to her will. This excursion into the heart of the demon-filled realm wasn't just a mission; it was her training montage. It was the forge where she would break her limitations.

A movement on the path below caught her eye. Elder Sevryn was arriving.

Her eyes narrowed, the Azure Flame in her pupils flaring. She had not forgotten the vision—the flickering precognition of Sevryn’s betrayal and the subsequent destruction of Qiyoto. She saw the blood on his hands before he even spilled it. Yet, for reasons Rinalla could not fathom, Hitomi had not struck him down.

Perhaps today, Rinalla thought, a cold resolve hardening in her chest. Treason will no longer go unanswered. She had nearly lost her entire family to the ambitions of men like Sevryn. She would not let it happen again.

"Suppose I better get inside," she muttered. She took a final, deep drag, the smoke curling around her face before she dropped the ember. The passing gale snuffed it out as Rinalla’s form blurred, then vanished entirely.

Moments later, she reappeared on the deck of the command ship, materializing silently to the right of Sevryn. The Elder jumped slightly, but Rinalla didn't even grant him a sideways glance. Her focus was entirely on the figure at the center of the bridge.

"My Lady X’hion," Rinalla said, her voice dropping into a tone of genuine, if rare, reverence. "Rinnala Yatagane, reporting."

She bowed—a deep, disciplined movement that displayed her absolute respect for the woman before her. When she rose, she bypassed the seating arranged for the sub-commanders and the Elders, taking a seat with a casual defiance that bordered on insult.

"Elders..."

To Rinalla, the Elders were children playing with matches while their homeland burned.

Only Hitomi mattered.

This was the first time Rinalla had stood in such proximity to her leader, and the effect was visceral. Hitomi did not merely command the room; she defined it.

She sat with a poise that felt less like a regal posture and more like a predator at rest. Her hair was a cascading river of silken white, so bright it seemed to catch the light of Xelphis and hold it captive. But it was her eyes that truly arrested Rinalla’s spirit. They were a deep, piercing crimson—the color of ancient wine and fresh blood. They didn't just look at Rinalla; they seemed to calculate her atomic weight, her potential, and her flaws in a single, sweeping glance.

There was a quiet power exuding from Hitomi, a hum of energy that made the air in the cabin feel heavy and charged. She was the embodiment of the evolution Rinnala craved—a leader who had discarded the stagnant traditions of the old Inuki ways in favor of raw, unadulterated efficiency

[The Yaarou Clan]

Moments later, Rinnala reappeared on the deck of the command ship, materializing silently to the right of Sevryn. The Elder jumped slightly, but Rinalla didn't even grant him a sideways glance. Her focus was entirely on the figure at the center of the bridge.

"My Lady X’hion," Rinalla said, her voice dropping into a tone of genuine, if rare, reverence. "Rinnala Yatagane, reporting."

She bowed—a deep, disciplined movement that displayed her absolute respect for the woman before her.

Only then did Hitomi's crimson eyes pull away from the Elders. And for the first time that morning, the cabin seemed to take a breath of relief.

She regarded the young shinobi for only a heartbeat. "...Captain." It was a slight nod and nothing more. Yet it carried a degree of acknowledgment that none of the elders had received since boarding the aircraft.

She placed the immense volume atop the growing stack beside her before reaching toward the intercom embedded within the armrest.

"We are ready to take off." Her voice carried effortlessly through the cabin.

Almost immediately, the aircraft answered.

The engines, which until now had merely hummed beneath the floor, deepened into a rich harmonic resonance.

Outside the panoramic windows, the ground crew and guards briskly dispersed across the runway from the aircraft as the boarding staircase withdrew with a mechanical hiss.

Then, the Theta Jet began to hover from the floor, only a few feet before it began gliding along the tarmac. In the following moments, the aircraft lifted into the clouds and soon, the entire runway disappeared behind them. And all of New Vorelia unfolded outside the windows.

From above, the mountain city appeared almost unreal. Its white towers pierced the drifting clouds like ivory spears. Vast units of Inuki Hunters could be seen climbing toward the great gates in disciplined columns while cathedral bells continued their morning hymn far below.

But then, the aircraft banked eastward and the snow capped summits of the Strata Mountains disappeared behind them, swallowed by the curvature of Vescrutia itself. And gave way to acres of endless forests threaded by silver rivers that glittered beneath Xelphis like veins of molten glass. Before long, even the mainland vanished, replaced by the immeasurable blue of the Freshwater Sea.

For nearly an hour, the Theta Jet outran the morning. The landscape transformed so quickly beneath it that Sevrin found himself unconsciously gripping the armrest. And one glance at Ayune let him know he wasn't alone.

"...Remarkable," She whispered, unable to peel her gaze away from the window.

Even Jhun leaned toward the window. "I've never traveled this quickly..."

“Neither have I..” Sevrin added.

The world no longer seemed to pass beneath the aircraft. It unraveled.

Continents folded away beneath them with impossible speed as the Theta Jet bent the heavens around its hull.

Hours of ordinary travel vanished into minutes. And no one spoke..

Not because there was nothing to say.. Nor was it because of the tension Hitomi's final words left them with. But because the sheer pace of the journey made conversation feel strangely insignificant. It was as if they would arrive at any moment.

Only Hitomi seemed untouched by the spectacle. She had already peeled open another tome and continued her writing as the realm raced beneath them. The only indication they had traveled nearly halfway across the world came from the pilot's calm voice breaking through the cabin.

"We are beginning our descent, Lady Xhi'on."

Hitomi closed her notebook and slid the leather journal neatly atop the stack of Inuki tomes before turning her crimson eyes toward the panoramic window.

Storm-gray clouds rolled beneath the aircraft like an endless ocean of ash, illuminated only where the light of Xelphis pierced through their fractured canopy.

The Theta Jet slipped effortlessly between them.

Then, the clouds broke, and a chain of emerald islands unfurled beneath the aircraft.

From this altitude, the Western Isles possessed an almost cruel beauty.

Dense jungles carpeted the interiors of dozens of islands, their vibrant canopies stretching to pristine beaches of white sand where crystalline waves reached untouched shores.

It could have been paradise.. Until the eye wandered farther inland.

There, all semblance of beauty ended.

Smoke rose in towering black columns from sprawling industrial districts that consumed nearly half the archipelago. Countless refineries stretched across reclaimed coastlines, their chimneys vomiting soot that stained the once-azure sea an oily gray. Massive shipping docks reached into the water where enormous freighters waited to carry their cargo toward distant continents.

Even from thousands of feet above, Sevrin could distinguish the enormous rail networks transporting ore between factories. Operated by thousands of workers moving below like insects.

The Yaarou had not merely occupied these islands, they had transformed them into an empire of commerce.

At the heart of the largest island stood a structure unlike any surrounding it— an immense fortress of obsidian glass and polished steel rose above the industrial skyline, its countless terraces crowned by black spires that pierced the clouds themselves.

The headquarters of the Gōkùdo Corporation; The financial heart of the Western Isles. The engine behind a fortune that rivaled kingdoms.

The Theta Jet banked gracefully toward it.

Below, an enormous private runway stretched across the coastline, its blackened concrete gleaming beneath the morning light. Armored personnel carriers waited in disciplined rows while dozens of black-clad security personnel stood motionless at attention.

The landing gear unfolded.

Hydraulics hissed beneath the cabin floor as the aircraft kissed the runway.

There was scarcely a change in momentum as the Theta Jet glided across the tarmac before gradually slowing to a halt.

Outside, the waiting convoy immediately came alive. Vehicle engines rumbled awake and security teams repositioned themselves with practiced precision.

Within moments, the boarding staircase descended and chime sounded softly throughout the cabin.

"We have arrived, Lady Xhi'on.”

“Finally.”

Hitomi rose and the others followed almost instinctively.

She gathered none of the archaic tomes. But she tucked the leather notebook into the sleeve of her robe and grabbed a personal bag before she led the way toward the exit.

Once the hatch opened, a gale of warm humid air flooded into the cabin, carrying with it the scents of saltwater, oil, steel, and smoke.. A world away from the crisp mountain air of New Vorelia that many of the Elders had already gotten used to.

Hitomi descended the staircase, nearly two dozen men dressed in immaculate black suits bowed in perfect unison. Dark sunglasses concealed their eyes despite the overcast sky. Each of them carried a polished sidearm and wore a sheathed katana along their backs.

One man stepped forward. And he stood out from his peers. Silver streaked the jet black waves of hair above his ears, and a crimson pin bearing the crest of the Gōkùdo Corporation adorned his lapel.

He was the only one of them to rise from his bow; clearly a superior officer.

"Lady Xhi'on. It is an honor to welcome you to the Western Isles. Our Chairman, Don Rio, has prepared the executive chamber and eagerly awaits your—"

"He may continue waiting." The sentence landed with quiet finality.

The executive froze.. but only for a beat before he bowed his head once again. "O-of course."

Hitomi regarded him without expression. "I require transportation."

"Immediately, My Lady."

"...To the Shi encampments."

Again, genuine surprise crossed the man's face. "...The... encampments?"

"Yes. I have no interest in the boardroom today."

The executive recovered himself almost instantly. "As you wish." He gestured toward the waiting convoy. “The route has already been secured.”

Without another word, Hitomi began walking and the convoy hurried to accommodate her.

Behind her, Sevrin exchanged a brief glance with Ayune. Neither of them spoke, but a shared inquiry connected them. If Hitomi had truly come to negotiate a sale, then why refuse to meet the most powerful man on the islands?

—-

The convoy departed within minutes.

Six armored vehicles rolled through the gates of the Yaarou's aerodrome in perfect formation, their matte-black exteriors reflecting little more than silhouettes beneath the overcast sky. The Theta Jet remained behind upon the runway, already being surrounded by engineers and security personnel who moved with mechanical precision.

Hitomi and her party occupied the lead vehicle as the convoy descended from the executive district into the industrial arteries that sustained the Gōkùdo Corporation. Endless columns of freight vehicles crawled between refineries. Rail lines crisscrossed overhead like steel veins, carrying countless shipping containers toward distant ports.

Massive cranes swung methodically above cargo docks where Gōkùdo agents loaded freighters destined for every corner of Vescrutia.

No one spoke. Many of them had never been here.. All aside from Hitomi of course.

But they absorbed what they saw in silence.

The convoy continued east, and soon, the towering skyline of their corporate headquarters disappeared behind them.

Then… The first wall appeared. Black steel. Nearly seventy feet high, and reinforced with enchantments that shimmered faintly across its surface whenever sunlight touched the countless runic inscriptions engraved into its frame. It stretched farther than anyone could immediately comprehend, with watchtowers standing every few hundred meters.

Each manned with its own separate battalion of armed guards.

The convoy slowed to a stop as they approached an immense checkpoint. But only for a moment while Hitomi's identity was verified. Immediately after, the gates opened with a thunderous groan that reverberated across the valley like a colossal beast.

The convoy crossed the threshold and entered an entirely different world beyond its walls. Miles upon miles of fenced compounds stretched across the valley floor,

Long lines of prisoners shuffled between compounds under the watchful eyes of guards carrying enchanted rifles and restraint poles humming with suppression magic.

Most possessed the distinctive features of the Shi; dark complexions, ash-colored hair, and eyes that were either carved out, blindfolded, or dulled from years of abuse in captivity. But they were not alone. Scattered among them were countless others. Elven bloodlines, rival shinobi, fae, worgs.. Every one of them unfortunate enough to be considered profitable in the eyes of the Yaarou's clients.

The convoy climbed a winding road that overlooked the valley until it reached the highest structure within the complex. A towering obsidian penthouse built directly into the mountainside. From here, one could see everything.

The vehicles came to a halt, where an attendant hurried forward to open Hitomi's door.

She stepped onto the polished stone without hesitation, followed closely by Rinnala and her Elders.

Inside, the penthouse was immaculate. Marble floors. Black pillars. Floor-to-ceiling glass overlooking the entire internment complex below.

The contrast was abhorrently offensive. Luxury suspended above suffering.

Hitomi approached the window with her hands folded neatly behind her back.

For several long moments… She simply watched where thousands continued their work. Voices lashing like cracks of thunder into a sea of weathered faces. Her fingers

Behind her, Sevrin finally broke the silence. "Uh.. Lady Xhi'on? I was under the impression we had come to oversee negotiations.”

Hitomi never looked away from the glass.

“I remember you mentioned inspecting our merchandise before the sale but..."

"...I did." She paused. "That was untrue."

The room became still before she slowly turned to face Sevrin and the others. She then dropped the personal bag that she had been carrying from the Jet onto the floor.

Hitomi smiled as she reached inside and slowly withdrew a severed human head.

Its dark hair hung limply between her fingers as she held it aloft.. The man's lifeless expression frozen in perpetual terror.

Ayune inhaled sharply. Jhun's face was drained of color. But Sevrin.. Sevrin did not move. He did not so much as take a breath as his head inclined toward the ground. He looked petrified. And Hitomi saw that.

“This.. is why we're here.” She said, studying all of their expressions. “..well, one of the reasons.” then she smiled. “Do any of you recognize this man?”

No one moved. No one breathed.

Hitomi allowed the stillness to mature.

She had learned long ago that silence was among the cruelest interrogation techniques ever devised. And before long, Elder Ayune found her voice.

"...No." It emerged barely above a whisper. "I've... never seen him before."

Jhun slowly shook his head. "Neither have I." His eyes remained fixed upon the corpse, searching desperately for some fragment of recognition that never came.

Hitomi gaze looked toward Sevrin, who remained almost perfectly composed. Well.. Almost. Only someone who was studying him as obsessively as Hitomi would have noticed it. The slightest tightening beneath his jaw. The minute pause between one breath and the next. Tiny fractures otherwise Invisible to everyone else, but painfully obvious to her. "...And you?" she asked.

Sevrin lowered his blindfolded face. "...No, My Lady. I do not recognize this man."

Hitomi regarded him for another heartbeat before she smiled.

"...is that right..?"

She then playfully turned the severed head to face Rinnala.

“Captain Yatagané, what can you tell us about our friend here?”

[Rinnala Yaarou]

Rinnala remained seated, casually composed, despite the incredible speed at which the ship was traveling. The hum of the vessel’s engines vibrated through the reinforced floorboards, a low, rhythmic pulse that did nothing to soothe the men and women sitting across from her. The Elders might have been unaccustomed to such modern, ruthless means of transportation, but Rinnala possessed ample experience with such luxuries. Most of her career had been spent serving as a high-end security detail for wealthy patrons and upper-echelon corporations—a lucrative past that afforded her a lifestyle completely betraying her gruesome line of work and her bloody rap sheet.

She reclined softly against the leather upholstery, watching the clouds tear past the viewport. The tension inside the cabin was as palpable as the suffocating silence that had settled over them. The Elders were all on edge, as well they should have been.

Because of their brash decisions and conniving fears, Qiyoto was gone, not merely damaged. Not under siege. Gone.

Twelve millennia of history, infrastructure, blood, sweat, and ancestral tears had been decimated in a single night.

Her eyes scanned the cabin slowly. Each of the Elders present was a Yaarou who, in their prime, had brought something unprecedented and pivotal to the evolution of the clan. Ayune’s knowledge of the ephemeral arts was without peer; among all the Elders, she alone was regarded as adept at sealing arts so potent they could bind the Shi’s Danketsu. That, coupled with her terrifying mastery of Shokotsu, earned her a pious degree of esteem.

Beside her sat Elder Jhun, the eldest and longest-living among them. He had served the previous X’hion long before Hitomi ever claimed the throne. Upon his frail, bent shoulders he carried a history and institutional knowledge that surpassed even the collective memory of his peers.

Finally, her sanguine gaze rested upon Elder Sevrin. He was the only Elder possessed of enough dark courage to undertake the sacred Rite of Pale Shadows. Held in the highest regard for his unwavering devotion to the Yaarou clan, Sevrin’s cunning and tactical brilliance had earned him the title of greatest strategist, making him the closest advisor to the X’hion herself. Rinnala’s eyes lingered on him a beat longer than the others before she leaned back, letting her eyelids droop.

As the minutes stretched into an hour, the jagged skyline of New Vorelia dissolved into the misty horizon of the Western Isles. Below them, the Emerald Isle sprawled out in brilliant green, marred only by the sprawling steel, obsidian, and industrial fumes of the Yaarou Western Compound.

As a veteran of the Yaarou’s Still Shadow sect, Rinnala was intimately familiar with this installation; Commander Keiko and her strike team used it as their headquarters from time to time. When the ship touched down on the rain-slick landing pad, the courtyard guards regarded Rinnala’s arrival somberly. She was hardly the most beloved figure among the ranks, but they had learned to respect her lethality—and in the Yaarou clan, strength superseded all else. At least, it had since Hitomi had taken the throne.

The party boarded an armored ground transport, making their way deeper into the sector toward the Encampments. Rinnala tracked the tightening brows of the Elders; they were confused, terrified, and visibly out of their element. Yet, they would be forced to make peace with their discomfort. It was this exact cowardice—this desperate, clutching fear of their status being threatened—that had led to their disastrous choices in the first place.

Soon, the high-rise perimeter came into view: seventy-foot walls of obsidian stone, built to contain and annihilate anything unlucky enough to catch the Yaarou’s gaze or threaten their hold on power. Rinnala hated this place. The oppressive smell of damp copper, ozone, and old blood always clung to her skin.

Fortunately, they did not linger in the pits below. They were escorted directly to the summit of the central spire, entering a penthouse suite that stood as a stark, luxurious contrast to the miserable keep beneath it. Floor-to-ceiling glass overlooked the rain-drenched territory.

Hitomi, the X’hion of the Yaarou, stood by the far window, her silhouette framed by gray storm clouds. Rinnala quietly detached herself from the group, taking up her position at the eastern corner of the room while Hitomi began her cold deliberation with the Elders.

The atmosphere remained taut until Hitomi reached into the heavy folds of her crimson robes, pulled out a wet, heavy sack, and unceremoniously dumped its contents onto the center of the mahogany table.

A severed head rolled to a stop, its dull eyes staring blankly at the ceiling.

The Elders recoiled, gasping as the horror of their summons finally began to take shape. Rinnala casually reached toward her jacket for her pack of cigarettes, but before she could pull one out, her eyes locked with Hitomi’s sharp, crimson glare.

"Captain Yatagane," Hitomi’s voice cut through the air like a blade. "What can you tell us about our friend here?"

Rinnala’s hand smoothly switched objectives, veering away from the cigarettes and slyly reaching into her inner pocket for a small leather notepad instead.

"Ah, let’s see... oh, here he is," Rinnala said dryly, flipping open the worn pages with a flick of her thumb. "Hisui Zarumasa. One of the Bingo Knights' finest. 33 Nightmare Rank Knight. He’s been in the game for over ten years—born to a low-born branch of a minor shinobi clan. A prodigal user of the ephemeral arts."

She turned a page, her voice cool and detached. "His abilities became so profound that he rapidly ground his way through the Bingo Knights' hierarchy, becoming one of the most infamous assassins on the continent. Specializing in..."

She tossed another page aside, looking directly at the trembling old men.

"...the assassination of high-profile political figures. Like a X’hion, perhaps?"

Her gaze traveled slowly between the Elders. Every single one of them looked as though they were about to collapse under the sheer weight of their panic.

"Don't worry," Rinnala said softly.

"I won't leave your minds to wander. I caught this vermin personally. I tortured him until he begged to reveal who sired his contract."

Hitomi stopped directly behind the head of the table.

"It was Elder Sevrin."

A collective gasp echoed through the suite, but Sevrin remained frozen, his knuckles white against his robes. "Nonsense," Sevrin rasped, trying to gather his legendary composure. "This is a fabrication! How could you possibly prove such a slanderous—"

"How could I have known, you ask?" Rinnala interrupted softly.

She raised her hands to her ears and unclasped a pair of heavy, black-stone earrings. As the metal broke contact with her skin, the subtle glamour maintaining the illusion of crimson eyes disintegrated. The deep red faded instantly, exposing her true, glowing azure gaze.

Sevrin’s breath hitched.

"My eyes, the Aoi Kaigen, grant me the ability to see beyond the present,"

Rinnala said, her voice dropping into a dark, hypnotic register.

"From the moment I returned home, just before I was dispatched to the Shi base... I saw it. I saw Qiyoto bathed in flames. And standing within its smoldering rubble, holding the keys to our destruction... I saw you, Sevrin."

She slid her notepad back into her coat, her azure eyes burning into the strategist's soul.

"It's cliché, honestly," Rinnala murmured with a cold, hollow smirk. "It's always the advisor that betrays the crown."