As the hours passed, the scene opened upon the vast city of Moscow from afar.
Steam-driven automobiles rolled through the streets in steady lines, vapor hissing from exposed pipes and pressure valves. Between them moved traditional carriages, their wooden wheels clattering against well-laid stone roads as horse hooves echoed rhythmically with every step. The city breathed—steam and iron intertwined with muscle and tradition.
One steam car, however, stood apart.
It moved with a quieter authority, its brass frame polished to elegance, its design refined far beyond the utilitarian vehicles that surrounded it. Behind it rode mounted knights, armor catching light as they advanced.
The car came to a halt.
Its door opened, and the royal Ivanovich family stepped out.
The heir prince.
The publicly adored princess.
And lastly—the newest addition to the family, whose place among them had yet to be fully understood by the public eye.
Before them rose a grand facility, its scale imposing even against Moscow's vast skyline. Armed guards and imperial knights stood posted at every entrance, their presence unmistakable.
The Imperial Research & Engineering Directorate.
A private institution owned by the Ivanovich family—one of many under their control. Its purpose was singular yet vast: to push the boundaries of the industrial era through scientific research, engineering breakthroughs, and innovations far beyond what the public had yet seen.
The irony of the Directorate—and countless similar institutions across the world—was not lost on those who truly understood its origins.
Much of its foundation traced back to the genius of a single man.
Percival Ashford.
Inventor. Prodigy.
And now, infamous.
Without his blueprints—without the devil in human flesh who first carved these paths—much of the machinery humming within those walls would never have existed.
"Woooow!"
Teslaine stared up at the building, eyes wide with unrestrained awe. "What is this place?"
Aleksander smirked, clearly amused by her reaction. "This is a science and engineering facility owned by our family."
"A science and engineering facility?" Teslaine echoed, curiosity and disbelief blending together. Just how wealthy did one have to be to own something like this?
Before Aleksander could elaborate, Violet suddenly grabbed Teslaine by the hand.
"Hurry up, Grandpa! Aunty Victoria!" she shouted enthusiastically as she pulled Teslaine toward the entrance. "You don't have to be that slow!"
The two girls vanished ahead, their laughter echoing faintly.
Aleksander stiffened in alarm. "Hey—wait up! Violet! Teslaine! Don't do anything dumb, please!"
Watching the scene unfold, Graviil couldn't help but chuckle. A rare grin crossed his face. "Children being children, as always," he said fondly. "A pleasant sight."
Victoria, walking beside him, spoke with a hint of surprise. "I wasn't expecting my request to be fulfilled so quickly, Lord Graviil."
"I have my ways," Graviil replied easily. "What matters is that I kept my word."
Victoria lowered her head in deep respect, a faint smile touching her lips. "I am deeply grateful, Your Majesty."
"There's no need for that," Graviil said casually. "I did this of my own accord. I never act expecting something in return—so please, relax."
Startled, Victoria straightened, then smiled more sincerely than before. "I will."
With that, all five of them entered the facility, escorted by armed knights.
The sight that greeted them was nothing short of breathtaking.
Rows upon rows of steam pipes snaked along the walls, releasing controlled bursts of vapor. Towering machines filled the space—some so massive they seemed almost unreal, as though torn from visions of the future. Engineers and researchers moved between them, many clad in long white coats, others smeared with oil and dust from relentless labor.
To one side, botanical experiments were underway—plants grown under artificial light, infused with subtle traces of ethereal energy. On the other, heavily built workers hauled enormous components for mechanical projects, assisted by cranes, gear-driven rigs, or their own supernatural abilities to lighten the load.
Steam hissed. Gears turned. Energy thrummed beneath it all.
As they approached the heart of the facility—the central chamber—something extraordinary came into view.
Suspended at its core was a radiant, blue-hued sphere, resembling a miniature neutron sun. It pulsed softly, formed entirely of condensed ethereal energy, held in place by an intricate lattice of machinery, reinforced frames, and roaring steam conduits.
Energy gathered and flowed around it like wind over open plains… like waves across a calm ocean. Gentle. Powerful. Beautiful.
Victoria stood frozen in awe.
Teslaine even more so.
They had never seen anything like this.
Was this what immense wealth could achieve?
The combined effort of countless brilliant minds, brought together under a single vision?
It was outstanding.
Truly… marvelous.
As Victoria and Teslaine stood absorbing the marvels before them, several figures approached at a measured pace. At their head was an older man with neatly kept hair and wire-framed glasses, his posture composed yet respectful.
He stopped a short distance away and bowed deeply, followed immediately by those behind him.
"Greetings, Grand Emperor," he said with utmost reverence. "It is truly an honor to be bestowed the privilege of standing before your grace today."
Graviil smiled and waved a hand lightly. "It is good to see you again, Professor Arkady."
The man straightened, clearly pleased, before turning toward Aleksander and Violet. Once more, he lowered his head.
"My greetings as well to His Majesty and Her Highness—Prince Aleksander, Princess Violet."
"Greetings to you too," Aleksander replied warmly.
Violet mirrored the smile, bright and unrestrained as ever.
"You've both grown quite quickly since the last time I saw you," Professor Arkady remarked.
"Well," Aleksander said with a faint grin, "time tends to pass faster when you're not paying attention."
"Indeed," Arkady agreed.
Before the moment could linger, another voice cut in—loud, lively, and unmistakably female.
Violet barely had time to react before she was swept into a crushing embrace.
"Well, look at you!" the woman laughed, pulling Violet close with surprising strength. Her working attire was practical and revealing, muscles defined beneath fabric stained dark with oil and soot. "You've gotten even cuter, little Princess!"
She ruffled Violet's hair vigorously.
"Hey!" Violet protested, face flushing as she squirmed. "I'm not a kid anymore, Yelena! You have to stop treating me like one!"
"Oh, is that so?" the woman teased. "You still act like one to me!"
She burst into laughter.
One of the people standing behind her visibly panicked, reaching out as if to intervene. "C-Captain, please," he whispered urgently. "You shouldn't behave like this toward the Princess. She's a member of the royal family—"
But the woman paid him no mind.
"Do you have any idea how long I've been waiting to see you again?" she continued enthusiastically. "I nearly lost my mind when I heard you'd be visiting! Honestly, I still wish you'd taken my offer and worked under me instead. A brilliant mind—and body—like yours shouldn't be wasted on fancy royal life!"
Professor Arkady suddenly coughed, nearly choking on his own breath as his glasses slipped. "You truly have no shame whatsoever, Miss Yelena," he said sharply. "You should be far more careful with your words."
She froze, then scratched the back of her head sheepishly. "Ah—oops. That came out wrong. My apologies for the rudeness."
Graviil waved the matter aside, entirely unbothered.
Aleksander chuckled in amusement.
Violet, meanwhile, continued struggling futilely against Yelena's grip.
Noticing the two unfamiliar faces nearby, Professor Arkady cleared his throat and turned toward Victoria and Teslaine.
"Forgive my oversight," he said, bowing once more. "Welcome to the Imperial Research & Engineering Directorate."
"My name is Professor Arkady Mirovich," he continued. "I serve as the leading representative of the Scientific Research Department."
He gestured to the two men behind him. "These are my students—Dr. Ilya Karamzin and Dr. Pavel Morozov."
Both men bowed respectfully. "It is our pleasure to meet you."
Professor Arkady then turned toward the woman from earlier, who introduced herself with a far more relaxed demeanor.
"Greetings!" she said cheerfully. "I'm Yelena Zorya—Head of the Engineering Department."
She jerked a thumb over her shoulder. "And the three delinquents behind me are my subordinates. Konstantin Malenkov, Vasily Lebedev, and Dmitri Sokolov."
"Our honor," the three said in unison, bowing quickly.
Teslaine and Victoria returned the gesture, though both felt slightly overwhelmed by the intensity of the atmosphere—excited, yet uneasy in the best possible way.
With introductions concluded, Professor Arkady spoke again. "You must be Lady Victoria Bennett and Princess Teslaine Nikola Ivanovich, correct?"
"Yes," they answered.
Teslaine's voice carried a trace of nerves.
Victoria's eyes suddenly sharpened. "Pardon me," she interjected, "but did you say your surname was Mirovich?"
"Ah—yes!" Arkady replied brightly. "I imagine that surprises you. To answer the question you haven't yet asked—I am indeed related to the Ivanovich family's head butler, Viktor Mirovich."
"He is my grandfather."
"Wait—really?" Teslaine exclaimed.
Arkady chuckled at her reaction. "Quite. I'm accustomed to such responses. My grandfather has built an honorable name for himself. There isn't a soul in this nation unaware of his reputation—or his importance. Wouldn't you agree, Your Majesty?"
Graviil grinned. "I would."
"Well, that is surprising," Victoria admitted, still processing the revelation.
After a brief pause, Professor Arkady returned to the matter at hand. "You may be wondering why you were invited here today," he said calmly. "This visit was arranged at the direct request of His Majesty."
Teslaine blinked, curiosity stirring.
"The purpose," Arkady continued, "is for the leading departments of the Directorate to have the opportunity to meet you in person, Princess Teslaine."
"…Huh?" Teslaine murmured, confusion plainly written across her face.
Professor Arkady continued speaking—and suddenly, everyone present lowered themselves to one knee.
The movement was synchronized, deliberate.
Teslaine froze.
Her breath caught as the room shifted around her, the weight of the moment crashing down all at once.
"We are truly blessed to be granted the opportunity to meet you today, Princess," Professor Arkady said solemnly, his head bowed. "We hope to foster a strong and enduring relationship moving forward… under your guidance, our new Leading Head Master, Lady Teslaine."
The words rang in her ears.
Leading… Head Master?
Teslaine turned instinctively toward Graviil, eyes wide, searching for answers. Her thoughts tangled over themselves—confusion, disbelief, fear—all colliding at once. She didn't understand what was happening. She didn't know what she was supposed to say.
Yet all she found were warm smiles.
Not mockery. Not expectation.
Belief.
"W-What's going on…?" Teslaine murmured softly. "What does he mean by… 'Leading Head Master'?"
Graviil's expression softened.
He stepped closer and knelt before her, resting a gentle hand upon her shoulders so she would not feel small beneath the weight suddenly placed upon her.
"You heard him correctly, Teslaine," Graviil said calmly. "The reason I brought you here today was never for sightseeing. This meeting was carefully arranged—at the request of your Aunty Victoria."
He paused, choosing his words with care.
"I know you've been struggling to adapt to your new surroundings," he continued. "And I know… you are still hurting from the truth surrounding your father."
Teslaine's fingers curled slightly at her sides.
"But," Graviil said gently, "we cannot allow you to bury yourself beneath that pain."
He smiled—warm, sincere.
"You possess talents that eclipse even those of your father. Talents that stand in direct defiance of the path he chose."
"The world needs a star like you, Teslaine."
Her heart trembled.
"With your powers," Graviil went on, "you can perceive the world as something unfinished—something that can always be refined, evolved, improved… or entirely reborn."
"Your mind holds a wonder that deserves to be seen. Not just by this world… but by the universe itself."
Teslaine's lips parted, but no sound came out.
"I have lived long," Graviil said quietly. "Long enough to know that no power like yours has ever existed—not in history, not in myth."
"The power of Technological Evolution."
"Such greatness must never be hidden… nor feared."
His voice grew firmer.
"With an intellect and potential as boundless as yours, every race across the four realms—human and otherwise—will one day come to rely upon you."
"Against the otherworldly technologies your father left behind…"
He met her gaze.
"You are our hope."
"Our chance at survival."
"The Everchanging Star."
"One day, you will surpass even your father's genius."
Teslaine stood speechless.
Her throat tightened painfully as the words echoed inside her mind.
Limitless potential.
Greatness.
These were not words she had ever used to describe herself. Never once had she imagined others saw her this way.
Is this… how they see me?
A hidden prospect?
Her vision blurred.
Graviil continued gently, "I have officially appointed you as the head of the Ivanovich family's Science and Engineering House within this land."
"You may be young," he said, "but youth does not mean unworthiness. There is no one more suited for this role than you, my child."
He hesitated, then added, "I have also acquired a remaining fragment from one of Percival's otherworldly aerial vessels—retrieved from the British Empire."
A faint smile crossed his face. "Arthur was not willing to part with it cheaply."
"But it will suffice."
"I am counting on you—"
Before he could finish, Teslaine moved.
She threw herself forward and wrapped her arms tightly around him.
The sudden embrace startled everyone.
Her grip tightened with every second, as if letting go would cause the moment to vanish.
"Thank you," she whispered, her voice trembling as she buried her reddened face against his chest. "Grandpa…"
Graviil's breath hitched.
His heart melted instantly.
Tears welled in his eyes as he returned the embrace, holding her as gently as something priceless. The emotion overwhelmed him.
And he wasn't alone.
Victoria turned away slightly, blinking rapidly.
Aleksander swallowed, clearing his throat.
Violet, however, broke entirely.
She burst into sobs as if witnessing the climax of a theater play, clinging to Aleksander and blowing her nose violently into his shirt.
Aleksander stiffened. "VIOLET!" he shouted. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! BE SERIOUS! THAT WAS MY FAVORITE SHIRT!"
"Be quiet," Violet sniffled, eyes red as she continued wiping her nose. "You're ruining the moment."
"YOU'RE ruining it!" Aleksander protested, struggling helplessly as her grip proved… unnaturally strong.
Laughter rippled through the room.
Even the kneeling researchers couldn't suppress their smiles.
For just a brief moment, titles faded.
And all that remained… was family.
The scene slowly drifted away from warmth and laughter.
High above the city, Alcmena lay sprawled atop a distant building, his feline form relaxed, tail idly swaying as his golden eyes lingered on the Research Directorate below. From this far, the moment unfolding within felt small—fragile—but unmistakably genuine.
Family, huh…
He licked his fur lazily, ears twitching as faint echoes of joy carried through the air.
What an orchestra of emotions.
Then—
The air shifted.
Not gently. Not naturally.
Alcmena's body tensed in an instant. Every strand of fur along his spine bristled as if struck by lightning. His breath caught, instincts screaming before thought could follow.
That presence—
His eyes snapped north.
"…Xavier?"
The name surfaced unbidden in his mind.
The world itself seemed to recoil as a suffocating pressure washed over him—ancient, violent, unmistakably draconic.
No.
This wasn't right.
Why now? Why this overwhelming?
A cold realization settled into his chest.
Something had gone terribly wrong.
Without hesitation, Alcmena launched himself forward, his small frame blurring as he dashed across rooftops and spires, claws scraping stone as he leapt from building to building. The city rushed beneath him, reduced to streaks of shadow and light.
Not again—
Not him.
The scene tore itself apart.
Tsarigrad Citadel.
At first, all seemed normal.
Then the explosion hit.
A thunderous blast shattered the stillness, followed by a violent shockwave that rattled the castle walls. Knights and servants screamed as they sprinted toward the source.
The young Prince's chamber.
The massive doors had been obliterated—ripped clean from their hinges. Inside, the room was nothing but ruin.
And Xavier was gone.
All that remained was devastation.
A gaping hole tore through the outer wall of the citadel, opening straight into the sky beyond.
But what froze everyone in place…
Were the footprints.
Melted into the stone floor.
Each step was seared deep by heat beyond comprehension, warped and uneven—as if made by something staggering, unbalanced, and utterly unrestrained.
Before anyone could react—
Another explosion erupted.
This time from the grand gardens below.
The lake waters surged skyward in a towering plume, bursting like a boiling mushroom cloud. Steam roared as scalding water spilled in every direction, hissing violently upon contact with the ground.
At the heart of it all—
A figure stood.
Xavier.
Bare and trembling.
His hair had grown far beyond its natural length, cascading down his back in strands of radiant, divine gold. Glowing runes crawled across his skin—marks of his RealmHeart state—but unlike before, they no longer remained confined to one side.
They were spreading.
Like a living parasite.
An aura flooded the gardens, heavy and oppressive, crashing down like a storm of blood and fire. Looming behind him was a ghostly silhouette—humanoid, draconic—its presence alone enough to shatter the sanity of any who gazed upon it for too long.
Xavier's lips curled into a twisted, sinister, and unfamiliar grin.
His fists clenched instinctively.
Like a beast cornered.
Whatever stood there…
It wasn't truly him.
His consciousness was slipping.
Slowly, Xavier's eyes fluttered open.
His body leaned forward as if he were emerging from something unseen. His vision swam—blurred shapes, distorted sound, no sense of place.
Then pain struck.
A violent convulsion wracked his body as blood spilled from his mouth, splashing against the flooded ground. Agony unlike anything he had ever known tore through him—raw, absolute.
It felt as though his soul itself was trying to tear free.
His knees buckled.
The world tilted.
And as he began to fall—
"YOUNG MASTER!"
The scream cut through the chaos.
A figure rushed toward him without hesitation.
Anastasia.
She caught him just in time, arms wrapping around his collapsing form as steam and ruin closed in around them.
The storm had begun.