Later that night, the mansion finally exhaled.
Lights dimmed one by one. The echoes of laughter faded into soft footsteps and hushed voices. Roberta, having completed her duties, entered rest mode in the living room, standing perfectly still like a silent sentinel, eyes dimmed, systems humming quietly beneath her calm exterior.
Noah was already asleep in the guest room with Kaito, the two of them exhausted in that honest way only kids could be, worlds away from gods and empires and looming wars.
Before retiring, Zumi crouched in front of Aurora, meeting her golden eyes.
"Guard the door," he said gently.
Aurora saluted clumsily, tail flicking with pride. "Leave it to me, daddy."
She curled up just outside the bedroom, alert despite her sleepy posture.
Inside, the door closed softly.
The world narrowed.
No strategies.
No systems.
No gods.
Just warmth.
The girls gathered around Zumi, close and unguarded. Some nervous, some confident, some trembling with anticipation, all of them certain. This wasn't lust driving them forward. It was trust. Choice. A shared gravity pulling them into the same orbit.
For some, it was their first time stepping into intimacy without fear.
For others, it was a reaffirmation of a bond already forged.
Hands intertwined. Foreheads touched. Quiet laughter mixed with shy breaths.
What followed was not rushed, not taken, not demanded.
It was given.
A night where closeness mattered more than anything physical. Where presence, reassurance, and shared affection filled the room until the outside world felt impossibly far away. Hearts opened. Walls fell. Promises were never spoken aloud, yet somehow understood.
Later, wrapped in tangled sheets and softer silence, each woman lay awake for a moment, lost in her own thoughts.
Gia reflected on how far they'd come, how the boy she met had become the axis of something vast, yet still looked at her the same way.
Serafina felt peace she hadn't known since Olympus, darkness no longer lonely.
Leafa felt rooted, chosen, alive in a way nature itself would envy.
Hina smiled to herself, excitement and devotion humming together.
Emma, overwhelmed but safe, realized she had finally found a place where her strength wasn't a weapon but a gift.
Emily, curled close, felt no anxiety, no fear for the future—only calm, like the gentle presence within her was smiling too.
And Zumi…
Zumi felt full.
Not powerful.
Not divine.
Just human, surrounded by people who loved him—not for what he was becoming, but for who he already was.
Sleep came easily after that.
The deepest sleep any of them had ever known.
Outside, Aurora's tail flicked once, satisfied.
Inside, the future waited.
The next morning came gently.
Soft light filtered through the curtains, painting the room in warm gold. Emma woke first, tucked under the covers at Zumi's left, her arm resting lightly against him. A moment later, Emily stirred on his right. They both froze for a second, then slowly turned their heads toward one another.
Their eyes met.
They smiled.
Careful not to wake him, they shifted just enough to hold him closer, sharing a quiet, private moment before the world rushed back in. Around them, the other girls were still asleep, scattered comfortably across the bed, breathing slow and peaceful.
Emma looked down at Zumi's face.
For a moment, her thoughts drifted.
She realized something that still felt unreal. She had given her first time to a man she had met only yesterday. By any normal standard, it sounded reckless. Impossible.
And yet… she didn't regret it. Not even a little.
She had wanted it.
She had chosen it.
And more than that, she felt grateful.
Grateful for the future he had offered her.
Grateful for the trust he had placed in her.
Grateful that, through him, she had finally met the woman she admired more than anyone in the world.
Her gaze drifted across the bed until she spotted Viktoria, still asleep, elegant even in rest. The Red Empress herself, breathing softly just a short distance away.
Emma's chest warmed.
To think that the woman she had looked up to for so many years was here. That Zumi had brought them together. That somehow, impossibly, she now stood in the same world as her, not as a distant figure on a screen, but as someone real.
Her eyes shimmered, but she didn't cry.
She was happy.
Emily shifted slightly beside her, resting her head more securely against Zumi's shoulder. Her thoughts followed a similar path, quieter but just as deep.
For the first time in years, she felt truly safe.
Not just protected, but understood.
She knew, without doubt, that no matter what came next, Zumi would do everything in his power to take care of her and her brother. That he would fight for their future as fiercely as he fought for his own.
The anxiety that had once ruled her mornings was gone.
In its place was calm. Certainty. Warmth.
Emma and Emily both lingered there for a while, listening to Zumi's steady breathing, feeling the quiet presence of the others around them. No words were needed.
They were satisfied.
They were safe.
They were happy.
And for now, that was enough.
Morning came like a held breath finally released.
Zumi stirred, awareness returning in a slow, grounded way. The moment his eyes opened, he turned his head and pressed a gentle kiss to Emily's forehead, then another to Emma's temple. Both of them smiled instinctively, still half-asleep, their bodies relaxing at the simple affection.
Then Zumi let his aura pulse.
Not sharp.
Not overwhelming.
Pure warmth.
A wave of love intent spread through the room like sunlight through water. One by one, the women around him stirred, breath hitching softly as that presence wrapped around them. It wasn't possessive. It wasn't commanding. It was reassurance. Belonging. Care.
Every single one of them felt it.
Zumi sat up, rolling his shoulders once, his voice dropping into that deep, gravelly register it always took after sleep. It carried weight. Comfort. Authority. And when he spoke, it sent a pleasant shiver straight through the room.
"All of you," he said calmly, a faint smile touching his lips, "go shower and meet me downstairs."
There was no resistance. Only smiles, soft laughter, and an unspoken understanding.
One by one, they slipped from the bed, heading toward different bathrooms throughout the mansion. Emily paused long enough to squeeze his hand. Emma leaned down and kissed his cheek once, quietly. Then they were gone, the room emptying with the sound of footsteps and running water.
Zumi rose and made his way to his private bathroom downstairs.
The shower washed away the lingering warmth of sleep, grounding him fully. When he stepped out, he summoned his attire with practiced ease. A crisp three-piece navy blue suit settled perfectly onto his frame, tailored like it had been made for him alone. A clean white shirt beneath. At his collar, a sparkly navy bow tie caught the light just enough to suggest elegance without arrogance.
Put together.
Composed.
Ready.
He entered the kitchen just as Roberta powered down her rest mode and smoothly stood to attention.
"Good morning, Master," she said, voice calm and precise.
"Morning," Zumi replied. "Help me cook."
"At once."
He activated his gourmet cooking skill, and the kitchen came alive. Ingredients moved with purpose. Timing was flawless. Roberta assisted seamlessly, passing tools, adjusting heat, plating with mechanical perfection enhanced by something almost… proud.
What emerged was a breakfast worthy of gods. Perfectly prepared eggs, fresh bread, rich spreads, meats cooked to exact preference, fruit arranged with artistic care. Every plate radiated intention.
As the table was being set, Reina arrived, composed and alert, followed closely by Jonathan Gale. Zumi greeted them both with a nod and gestured for them to sit.
"Eat," he said simply.
Soon after, the rest of the house filled in. Laughter returned. Conversation sparked. Plates were served, and the dining table became warm with life again as everyone enjoyed the meal Zumi and Roberta had prepared.
For a moment, there were no looming threats. No gods. No wars.
Just family.
Zumi let the quiet settle after breakfast, the clink of cutlery fading into a comfortable hush. Then he spoke again, voice steady, carrying the weight of decisions already made.
"Alright. Listen up."
Everyone looked to him.
"I'm heading to the slums today. Coming with me will be Gia, Jonathan, Hina, Roberta, Aurora… and also Serafina, Leafa, Reina, and Bia." He glanced at each of them as he spoke their names, every one of them meeting his eyes and nodding without hesitation. "This won't just be a visit. We're laying foundations."
He turned to Gia and Jonathan. "Did you secure the earth-–attribute users?"
Gia smiled, tablet already in hand. "Yes. Highly skilled ability users. Builders, shapers, reinforcement specialists. They're on standby near the slums and won't move in until you arrive."
Jonathan added, "They understand the importance of discretion. No one enters without your signal."
"Good," Zumi said simply. "That's exactly how I want it."
He shifted his attention to Carmella. "You'll return home today. Prepare your people. Train your vampires harder than ever. What's coming won't wait for us to be ready."
Carmella bowed her head slightly. "Understood. We'll be ready."
Zumi then looked to Bethany. His tone softened, but the seriousness didn't fade. "You too. You've awakened something powerful, and that means you need to grow stronger. The upside of what's coming is this—when the world starts changing, supernatural beings won't be hunted or hidden anymore. We'll pass you off as evolved humans. No more shadows."
Bethany exhaled, relief and determination mixing in her eyes. "I won't waste that chance."
Zumi nodded. "I'll be away for three days. You might see me briefly when I teleport back for quick matters, but otherwise, I'll be in the slums."
He turned to Viktoria next. "The plans Gia gave you—begin them today. Talk to the board. Talk to investors. If they push back, call me."
Viktoria straightened instantly. "Understood. I won't disappoint you."
"That's my girl," Zumi said casually.
Viktoria's composure cracked for half a second. She blushed, smiled… and let out a tiny, surprised squeak before covering her mouth. The room immediately filled with soft laughter.
Finally, Zumi looked toward Catherine. "Go home. Tell your father what's coming. Have him strengthen his people. Let him know I'll be meeting with two major families soon. If he performs well while I'm occupied…"
He paused just long enough for the weight of the words to land.
"…I'll make him vice kingpin over the families when I'm busy."
Catherine's eyes widened. She nodded firmly. "I'll tell him. He won't fail you."
Zumi leaned back slightly, scanning everyone one last time. Plans were set. Roles assigned. The path ahead was no longer vague—it was sharp, defined, and accelerating fast.
The calm before the storm was over.
Now, the Kogane Empire would rise.
Zumi looked around at everyone one last time, his gaze lingering just a moment longer on each face.
"I love all of you," he said simply, with no theatrics. Just truth.
For a heartbeat, the room was silent.
Then voices overlapped.
"We love you too."
"Always."
"More than you know."
Some smiled, some laughed softly, some said it with quiet certainty, but every word carried the same weight. After that, the group began to split naturally, each person moving to prepare, to train, to plan, or to carry out what had been assigned to them. The mansion slowly filled with purposeful motion.
As Emily was about to turn away, Zumi paused, a thought clearly crossing his mind.
"Emily," he said gently. "Do you think your brother could come with me too?"
She turned back instantly, not even needing a second to think. "Yes," she said without hesitation. "We can call his school and tell them we're going on a family trip."
There was no doubt in her voice at all.
"I trust you completely," she continued. "I know you'll protect him."
Zumi felt something warm settle in his chest. He reached out and placed his hand on her head, giving her a gentle pat.
"Thank you for trusting me," he said.
Emily's face flushed pink almost immediately. Without even realizing it, she leaned into his hand, eyes soft, comforted by the touch. She stayed there for a moment, smiling quietly, as if that simple gesture told her everything she needed to know.
And with that, the last preparations began.
Later that day, once everything had been set in motion, those who were leaving with Zumi gathered in front of the mansion.
The air felt heavier than usual, charged with anticipation.
Zumi lifted Noah effortlessly and settled him onto his shoulders. Noah laughed softly, gripping his hair for balance, eyes shining with excitement rather than fear.
Standing with him were:
Gia, calm and focused, tablet already in hand.
Hina, rolling her shoulders, heat faintly shimmering around her.
Serafina, composed and watchful, darkness perfectly restrained.
Leafa, serene as ever, nature's presence steady at Zumi's side.
Bia, arms crossed, strength radiating quietly.
Reina, expression sharp and ready, eyes already on the future battlefield.
Roberta, standing perfectly still behind Zumi, systems humming beneath her calm exterior.
Jonathan Gale, hands behind his back, eyes respectful and alert.
Aurora, tail swaying excitedly, barely containing her energy.
No one spoke. They all knew this wasn't just a trip.
This was the beginning.
Zumi glanced back at the mansion one last time, then up at Noah. "Hold on tight," he said quietly.
Noah grinned. "I got you."
Zumi raised his hand, activating the ring.
Golden light unfurled outward, bending space itself. The air split open into a shimmering portal, its edges rippling like liquid glass. From within came the distant sounds of the slums: echoes of life, hardship, and untapped potential.
One by one, they stepped forward.
As a group, they crossed the threshold.
The portal closed behind them with a soft, final hum.
And just like that, Zumi and his inner circle arrived in the slums—
where the Kogane Empire would begin its rise.
Meanwhile, high above the city skyline, inside the uppermost floors of Volkov Global Entertainment Group (VGEG), the atmosphere inside the main boardroom was razor-sharp.
Floor-to-ceiling windows framed New York like a living map of power and profit. A long obsidian table stretched through the room, polished so perfectly it reflected the cold white lights above. Around it sat the heads of every major division: film production, global streaming, AI content development, esports operations, celebrity management, international licensing, finance, and security logistics.
At the head of the table sat Viktoria Sergeyevna Volkov.
Calm. Poised. Absolute.
She rested her hands lightly on the table as holographic projections bloomed into existence above its surface. Charts, forecasts, simulations, and layered timelines unfolded like a living organism.
"Let's begin," Viktoria said evenly.
She did not raise her voice. She never needed to.
"As of today, Volkov Global Entertainment Group will be transitioning into its next growth phase," she continued. "The strategy I'm presenting comes directly from the long-term vision of our newly appointed CEO, Zumi Kogane."
That single name sent a subtle ripple through the room.
Some executives leaned forward with interest.
Others stiffened.
A few masked irritation behind professional smiles.
Viktoria activated the first projection.
Phase One: Structural Optimization
"We are restructuring internal redundancies across all departments," she explained. "Not through layoffs, but through vertical consolidation and cross-division integration."
She gestured, and lines converged.
"Film, streaming, esports, and AI production will no longer operate as isolated silos. Data, talent, and assets will be shared dynamically. This alone reduces operating costs by twelve percent while increasing output capacity by nearly thirty."
Murmurs followed.
She didn't pause.
Phase Two: Psychological Market Capture
"Our competitors focus on content creation," Viktoria said. "We will focus on attention dominance."
A heat map of global viewer behavior appeared.
"VGEG will not chase trends. We will manufacture them. By analyzing emotional response data across regions, we will tailor narratives, personalities, and releases designed to maximize attachment, not just engagement."
She looked directly at the marketing director.
"This strategy increases long-term subscriber retention by forty-six percent."
The director swallowed and nodded.
Phase Three: Ecosystem Monetization
"With the integration of AI-generated content pipelines and live-service entertainment, we transition from product sales to lifestyle embedding."
The board watched as simulations showed consumers moving seamlessly between films, games, concerts, merchandise, and virtual events.
"Our audience will not consume VGEG content," Viktoria said coolly. "They will live inside it."
The numbers were staggering.
Projected revenue curves bent upward at impossible angles.
That's when the questions started.
"Ms. Volkov," one board member said tightly, "these projections assume a level of predictive certainty that borders on—"
"—mathematical inevitability," Viktoria finished for him, eyes flicking to his. "Yes."
Another leaned in, voice sharper. "And this Zumi Kogane—how long exactly has he been involved in entertainment at this level?"
"Long enough," Viktoria replied without hesitation.
A third executive tried a different angle. "With respect, this plan redefines control structures. Are you saying you approved this without full board consensus?"
Viktoria's gaze turned icy.
"I am saying," she replied, "that I approved it because it is correct."
More questions followed. Faster now. More pointed. Some genuine. Some thinly veiled attempts to corner her, to expose uncertainty, to reclaim relevance.
But Viktoria answered every single one.
She spoke in flawless chains of logic, dismantling objections before they finished forming. She reframed risks as leverage. Turned doubts into opportunities. Converted skepticism into projected profit.
Every time someone tried to trap her, she stepped around it effortlessly.
Minutes passed.
Then an hour.
By the end, the room was silent.
Some executives looked inspired.
Others looked shaken.
A few looked bitter.
Because the truth had settled in.
A man who had walked into their world one day had just rewritten its future.
And Viktoria Volkov hadn't followed him blindly.
She had recognized inevitability.
She folded her hands calmly.
"These plans move forward immediately," she concluded. "Implementation begins today."
No one argued.
Because at that moment, everyone in the room understood one thing very clearly:
Volkov Global Entertainment Group wasn't just evolving.
It was being positioned to dominate.
The silence that followed her final words was heavy—but not complete.
One man finally spoke.
He sat midway down the table, posture relaxed, fingers steepled as if he owned the room by habit rather than title. Head of Talent & Entertainment Relations. The man who controlled contracts, appearances, endorsements, reputations. The man whose approval could make or quietly end a career.
When he spoke, people listened.
"Viktoria," he said smoothly, voice carrying a practiced warmth that never reached his eyes. "I have a concern."
Several heads turned. The temperature in the room shifted.
"This plan," he continued, gesturing vaguely at the holograms, "is undeniably… impressive. No one here disputes that. But I must ask—purely in the interest of corporate governance—about the process."
Viktoria didn't move.
He leaned forward slightly.
"Is it truly wise," he said, tone sharpening just enough to cut, "to entrust the future of a two-hundred-billion-dollar empire to a man who walked in unannounced, spoke with you once, and walked out owning half the company?"
A few executives inhaled quietly.
The man smiled—thin, rehearsed.
"Forgive me for being blunt," he added, "but this raises questions. About judgment. About leadership. About whether personal influence has begun to outweigh institutional responsibility."
There it was.
Not business.
Pride.
Jealousy wrapped in professionalism.
He had wanted her for years.
He had bought gifts she never accepted.
Agreed with her in meetings she didn't need support in.
Positioned security, favors, loyalty—everything short of respect.
And she had never once looked at him the way she now looked at Zumi Kogane.
Now that a stranger had done in a single meeting what he never could, the bitterness finally surfaced.
He pressed on.
"Some might even wonder," he said carefully, "whether this decision was influenced by something other than strategy. And if so—how can the board trust that future decisions won't follow the same… pattern?"
The room went still.
This was not a question.
It was a trap.
If Viktoria defended Zumi too strongly, she would appear compromised.
If she distanced herself, she would undermine the very future she had just laid out.
For the first time since the meeting began—
Viktoria did not answer immediately.
Her crimson eyes flicked across the table, calculating trajectories, outcomes, damage vectors.
Every possible response created fractures.
So instead of speaking—
She reached into her pocket.
Calmly.
Deliberately.
She unlocked her phone beneath the table and typed a single message.
V:
Things were going well.
I've been challenged—personally and professionally.
Any answer I give can be twisted against me.
I believe your presence will resolve this cleanly.
She sent it.
Then she looked up at the man who had dared to corner her.
Her expression was unreadable.
"An interesting concern," Viktoria said at last, voice cool and composed.
"Let us address it… properly."
And somewhere far away—
A ring began to glow.
Three hours earlier.
The air at the outskirts of the slums was thick with dust, heat, and memory.
Zumi arrived first—then the others stepped through with him, the portal sealing behind them like a silent vow. Hina. Gia. Reina. Bia. Serafina. Leafa. Roberta. Jonathan. Aurora perched proudly, tail swaying. Noah still sat on Zumi's shoulders, eyes wide, taking it all in like a living manga panel.
Before them, just beyond the cracked asphalt and rusted fencing, dozens of people waited.
They were exactly as Jonathan had promised.
Builders.
Men and women standing in loose formation, cloaks and work jackets marked with faint runic seams. Earth-aspected ability users. Geo-shapers. Structural conjurers. Foundation weavers. People whose powers were normally wasted on patch jobs and temporary fixes—now gathered with purpose, waiting for a signal.
Zumi didn't call them yet.
Instead, he stepped forward.
Into the slums.
The moment his foot crossed the threshold, he saw it.
Kogane Dragons on patrol.
Not posturing. Not intimidating. Helping.
One knelt beside an elderly woman, fixing a broken stall leg with practiced care. Another carried crates for a corner store, laughing quietly with the owner. Two more stood watch at an alley entrance, alert but relaxed, making sure kids ran through safely instead of being chased off.
Zumi nodded once.
Good.
Then he stopped.
And spoke.
His voice rolled out—deep, gravel-edged, threaded with authority that vibrated through bone and breath alike.
"Dragons. Attention."
The reaction was instant.
Every Kogane Dragon froze mid-motion. Helping hands finished their task quickly and respectfully. Crates were set down gently. Tools were returned. Then, as one, they moved—boots scraping stone, spines straightening, fists tightening at their sides.
They lined up.
At attention.
They knew that voice.
They had only heard it once before—but once had been enough.
It was the voice of the man to whom their commander, Bia, had submitted without hesitation.
The man who had tamed the woman who had taken all of them down.
Authority radiated from him—not demanded, but undeniable.
And as the Dragons snapped to attention, the slums fell quiet.
Residents leaned out of windows. Shop owners stepped into the street. Children climbed crates and railings to see. Wordless awareness spread like a held breath.
Zumi turned slightly, ensuring everyone could see him.
"I am Zumi Kogane," he said, voice steady, carrying far.
"But before that—before titles, before names—I was one of you."
Murmurs rippled.
"I lived here," he continued. "I ate here. I survived here. I learned what it meant to sleep with one eye open and still wake up hoping tomorrow would be better."
He let that settle.
"I left the slums to find a better life. And now I've returned—not to take anything from you—"
His eyes swept the crowd.
"—but to give."
The reaction was immediate.
Whispers turned to gasps. Suspicion warred with hope.
"You may have noticed," Zumi said, gesturing toward the gates, "that people have been gathering outside. Builders. Specialists. They have not entered because I told them not to."
The builders shifted, some smiling faintly.
"With the right direction," Zumi continued, "they can build an entire city in hours."
Shock hit the crowd like a wave.
"A city?"
"In hours?"
"That's impossible—"
"It isn't," Zumi said simply.
"As promised, I am turning the slums into the heart of my Empire."
Silence.
Then—
Excitement.
Fear.
Hope.
All at once.
"Life here will be better," he said. "Cleaner. Safer. Stronger. And you will not be cast aside while it happens."
He turned slightly toward Gia.
"There will also be opportunity."
His gaze returned to the crowd.
"For young and middle-aged women who want a better life for themselves and their families—there is work. Training. A future. Positions as battle maids within my city."
Eyes widened. Mothers clutched daughters' shoulders. Young women leaned forward, hearts pounding.
"If you are interested," Zumi said, "speak to Gia. She will guide you."
He raised a hand.
"But first—everyone, gather what matters to you."
He looked to Jonathan.
Jonathan nodded.
A man stepped forward, carrying a large crate. Inside—neatly stacked.
Bags.
Zumi took one.
He slung it over his shoulder effortlessly, then lifted it high so everyone could see.
"These bags come in many sizes," he said. "Put inside them anything precious. Anything you value. Clothes. Keepsakes. Tools. Memories."
He shook it lightly.
"They will hold more than they appear to."
Eyes widened further.
"Once you're packed," Zumi continued, "come back here. Line up. If you need help carrying anything—tell the Kogane Dragons. They will assist you."
The Dragons stood taller at that.
"You cannot remain inside while construction begins," Zumi said. "The ground itself will be remade. But when you return—"
A pause.
"—you will return to something greater."
For a heartbeat, no one moved.
Then—
They nodded.
One by one. Then all at once.
Excitement burst free. People grabbed bags. Called to family. Laughed, cried, hurried back into homes with renewed purpose.
The slums erupted—not in panic—
But in hope.
Zumi watched them disperse, Noah still perched on his shoulders.
Behind him, the builders waited.
And the Empire took its first breath.
Zumi stepped back out toward the builders, the air around him shifting the moment his foot touched the cracked stone.
He didn't raise his voice.
He didn't need to.
The world stilled.
Zumi himself reached outward—his will, his mind, his presence—using the abilities of the Monkey King to speak telepathically, his thoughts becoming a bridge that connected directly to every builder at once.
A pulse rolled outward, silent and absolute.
Every builder froze.
Then, as one, they gasped.
The slums vanished from their sight.
In its place—a vision Zumi personally sent into their minds.
Not words. Not commands.
A city, projected by Zumi's will alone.
White-and-gold spires rising like prayer made solid.
Terraced districts arranged in perfect balance.
Residential quarters flowing into markets, then into training grounds, then into sanctuaries of rest and healing.
At the heart of it all—a grand plaza, a vast circular fountain carved with the yin and yang, where a golden dragon and a violet phoenix coiled and soared eternally, water and flame balanced in motion.
Blueprints layered over the vision seamlessly.
Seasonal layouts shifted automatically.
• Summer airflow corridors
• Winter insulation channels
• Rain capture systems
• Emergency evacuation routes
• Defensive choke points hidden beneath beauty
Every street had a purpose.
Every building a reason.
Every shadow intentional.
They didn't just see it.
They understood it—because Zumi was guiding their comprehension directly, adjusting angles, materials, and intent in real time through his telepathic link.
One builder dropped to a knee without realizing it.
Another laughed under their breath, awe cracking their composure.
"This… this isn't just a city," someone whispered aloud, though the words trembled as if spoken inside a cathedral.
"No," another replied, voice shaking. "It's a kingdom."
Zumi's presence pressed gently into their minds—his voice, unmistakably his.
This is what I want.
Not rushed. Not sloppy.
Perfect.
The vision ended.
Silence followed.
Then—
Excitement exploded.
Hands shook. Smiles spread. Earth-aspected energy flared instinctively as builders began arguing—not in conflict, but in passion.
"I'll take foundation anchoring!"
"I can shape the aqueduct rings!"
"The spires—those need resonance cores, I can do that!"
Gia stepped forward, clapping once sharply.
"Line up," she ordered, voice crisp. "Residents first."
The slum residents, already gathered with their bags, were guided carefully toward the outer entrance. Kogane Dragons escorted the elderly, helped children, reassured families. There was no panic—only anticipation.
Once the last resident crossed the boundary, Gia turned.
"All clear," she said. "Begin."
Zumi nodded.
The builders moved.
The ground answered them.
—
The first wave were Geo-Founders.
They knelt, palms pressed to broken concrete, and the slums shuddered—not violently, but like a deep breath being released. Cracks smoothed. Sinkholes sealed. Entire sections of unstable earth compacted and re-layered into bedrock stronger than steel.
Next came the Tectonic Sculptors.
Stone rose like obedient clay. Roads flowed into existence, curving naturally, each slope calculated for drainage and traffic. Foundations bloomed upward, their cores reinforced with crystalline earth lattices that hummed softly.
Above them, Gravitas Weavers took position.
They suspended half-built structures midair, allowing others to shape undersides and inner frameworks simultaneously. Towers grew upside-down and right-side-up at once, meeting perfectly in the middle.
The Aesthetic Artisans followed.
White stone polished itself beneath their touch. Gold veining threaded through walls like living veins. Carvings appeared—dragons, phoenixes, clouds, ancient symbols of balance—each etched with reverence rather than vanity.
Then came the Urban Harmonists.
They aligned energy flow.
Leylines were nudged, not forced. Spiritual currents braided through the city naturally, ensuring that no one area became stagnant or overwhelming. Even without magic, people here would feel calmer. Safer. Stronger.
At the center—
The Plaza.
The fountain emerged last.
Water surged upward, held in suspension as the yin-yang basin formed beneath it. The golden dragon coiled into existence scale by scale, molten light cooling into divine metal. Opposite it, the phoenix unfolded in amethyst hues, wings caught forever between ascent and rebirth.
When the water finally fell—
It sang.
Two hours.
Exactly two.
When the builders stepped back, exhausted and grinning, the slums were gone.
In their place stood the heart of the Kogane Empire.
Zumi looked out over it, Noah still on his shoulders, Aurora perched proudly beside him.
"This," Zumi said quietly, more to himself than anyone else, "is just the beginning."
Behind him, Gia smiled.
The Empire had risen.
A/N:
Hey everyone 👋
First of all, thank you. Seriously. If you're reading this, it means you made it all the way to Chapter 100, and that honestly means more to me than I can put into words. The fact that you've stayed with the story this long, followed these characters, and kept turning pages is something I'm incredibly grateful for.
I hope you've been enjoying the journey so far—the world, the characters, the twists, and the moments that made you laugh, hype you up, or hit you right in the feels.
Up to now, I've mostly been writing a few chapters at a time and posting whenever I had the chance. That's worked so far, but I want to do better for you all. I'd really like to start posting more consistently and in larger batches, so the story flows better and you're not left waiting as long between updates.
Because of that, I'll be going on a short hiatus. During this time, I'll be focusing on writing a solid backlog of chapters so I can come back with a much better and more reliable posting schedule.
I also want to share that I'll be applying to contract this story soon, which is both exciting and a little nerve-wracking. No matter what happens, I'm committed to this story and to seeing it through.
Once again, thank you for coming along for this ride with me. Your support, reads, and patience mean everything. I can't wait to continue this journey together very soon.
See you soon,—and thank you for believing in this story ❤️