Chapter 391: SELLING AN ACT

Nick raised a hand, cutting off the rising storm before it could break."It’s alright, Mum. I can handle it. The last thing I want is for Jeremy to call me pathetic because I can’t do anything without your help."

His rejection was firm, almost gentle, but unyielding.

Lilith’s eyes narrowed, but she let the matter slide, for now.

"Jeremy again," she muttered, a trace of irritation creeping into her tone.

"I wonder why you brothers hate each other so much."

She leaned back, crossing her arms, the motion accentuating the elegant lines of her form.

"I’m sorry, Mum, but you should understand what I mean."

"I do." She exhaled softly, the sound carrying centuries of patience worn thin.

"But at least I should have a peek at the person bold enough to disrespect my son."

Nick considered for a moment, then gave a small, reluctant nod.

"Sure. If you stick around. We’re going to have a general military training session across the entire super cluster. I’m sure he’ll participate. You can remain as a special guest and watch the training. It should motivate them further."

Lilith’s smile returned, slow, delighted, and faintly predatory.

"Well, I have nothing pressing back home," she purred.

"Alright then. That settles it."

She rose from the chair with effortless fluidity, stepping around the desk to place a cool hand against Nick’s cheek.

Her touch was gentle, almost tender, yet carried the weight of infernal royalty.

"Be sure to take care of Mummy well," she added, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

"Not every governor has the opportunity to host Lilith as a guest in their province."

Nick met her gaze, a flicker of wry amusement breaking through his tiredness.

"I’ll manage," he said dryly.

Lilith laughed, a low, melodic sound that seemed to resonate through the very walls of the office.

She leaned down, pressing a light kiss to his forehead, leaving behind the faintest trace of warmth and brimstone.

"Then I’ll see you tomorrow, darling," she murmured.

"And do try not to look quite so exhausted. It ruins the pretty face."

With that, she stepped back toward the window pane, form dissolving into swirling shadows and crimson embers.

The last thing visible was the flash of her crimson eyes amused, possessive, and utterly dangerous, before she vanished into the night of Aiz, leaving behind only the lingering scent of jasmine and the promise of chaos yet to come.

Nick stared at the empty space for a long moment, then exhaled slowly.

"Family," he muttered under his breath, turning back to the endless stream of holographic reports.

---

The sanctuary had grown vast, now the size of an entire galactic cluster after Aaron’s last ravenous feast.

Within its heart, the castle of Athanys stood as the unchallenged core of his empire, a towering edifice of living crystal and shadowed obsidian that seemed to breathe with the same slow, inexorable rhythm as the void itself.

A rift shimmered open in the grand hall, spilling faint violet light across the polished black floor.

Alice stepped through first, frost trailing from the edges of her armor like dying mist.

Behind her came the others Leo, King, Maxwell, Blade, and the rest, each one moving with the quiet exhaustion of those who had danced too close to death and walked away only because the reaper had been wearing a familiar face.

The hall itself was breathtaking in its scale.

Towering pillars of translucent crystal rose into a vaulted ceiling that mirrored the cosmos beyond nebulae drifting lazily overhead, distant galaxies spiraling in slow, hypnotic patterns.

The walls were seamless expanses of dark stone threaded with veins of starlight, and the floor beneath their boots felt both solid and faintly warm, as though the sanctuary itself had a living pulse.

"Never knew Aaron could be this ruthless to us," Leo muttered.

He paced near the base of a massive pillar, arms crossed so tightly his knuckles whitened.

Goosebumps still prickled along his forearms; the memory of that pitch-black blade sliding free from Michael’s chest played on repeat behind his eyes, cold, mechanical, merciless.

"Is that what it felt like being his enemy?" King asked General Maxwell.

A wide grin stretched across his face, but the humor was brittle, almost forced.

He leaned one shoulder against the cool crystal, trying to play it off as casual interest.

"No," Maxwell answered quietly.

He stood with his back to another pillar, arms folded, staring up at the drifting nebulae overhead as though the answer might be written among the stars.

"He never faced me like that. Compared to this... it felt like he was just playing around when we fought. Holding back. A lot."

The admission hung heavy in the vast hall, swallowed by the silence that followed.

"He needed to be convincing to blend in properly," Alice said.

Her voice cut through the tension cleanly, calm, measured, authoritative.

She stood near the center of the loose circle, frost still clinging faintly to her armor like stubborn winter.

"You all should understand that. He wasn’t trying to kill you. He was selling the act."

Her words steadied them, though the chill lingered.

"Yeah, we’re aware," Blade said.

He rolled his shoulders, trying to shake off the last of the adrenaline.

"I mean, we’re still standing in this hall and not dead yet. Thanks to him, we’re immortals in the first place."

He glanced toward the healing pods, voice dropping slightly. "But when will Michael and Isobel wake up?"

Despite his confidence and trust in Aaron, the question carried an undercurrent of unease.

The thought that Aaron might have gone too far, might have bypassed the immortality safeguard just to sell the deception, flickered briefly in all their minds.

But the idea of him driving a blade through his own sister’s heart purely for the sake of appearances felt too far-fetched to truly take root.

Still, the fear had teeth.

"They should be soon," Alice replied. She cast a brief glance at the duo still unconscious.

"Alright. You all can rest. We’re done with our job for now. Until he needs us again."

She gave a small nod, dismissal wrapped in quiet command, then turned and walked toward the far archway.

The rift to the deeper chambers shimmered open before her, framed in living starlight.

---

Alice bent space with a casual thought, stepping directly into the emperor’s administrative chambers.

The room was vast yet intimate, walls of dark crystal veined with silver light, holographic displays floating in orderly constellations around several workstations.

Reports, manifests, supply requisitions, and territorial audits scrolled endlessly, mountains of administrative labor that never seemed to shrink.

"You’re back!" Rose exclaimed the moment Alice appeared.

Relief flooded her voice as she looked up from the swarm of glowing data pads surrounding her.

"We can use some help. The paperwork is drowning us."

"Hah. At least give me a day off," Alice complained jokingly.

She let out an exaggerated sigh, though the corners of her mouth lifted in faint amusement as she moved to help sort the nearest chaotic stack.

"I really missed Retribution," Blue Star muttered from his corner station.

She leaned back in his chair, arms folded, staring at the ceiling where faint auroras of light danced across the crystal. "We don’t do much with him around."

"Yeah..." Rose said softly. Her voice dropped, almost wistful.

"Hopefully he fixes his soul soon. I don’t like this desperate version of Aaron."

The rest of the chamber remained silent.

No one contradicted her.

The unspoken agreement settled over the room like the gentle weight of starlight, each person carrying the same quiet worry, the same hope, buried beneath layers of duty, exhaustion, and unbreakable loyalty.