The sun had barely crested the gentle hills of Liria when the horizon filled with ominous spectacle. A fleet of airships, banners streaming and hulls aglow with a rainbow of auras, descended upon the sleepy kingdom. For years, Liria's greatest excitement had been the former king's questionable cheese-making contest. Now, even the cheese seemed to tremble at the sight.
In the palace, King Alden and Queen Mira hurried between windows, torn between awe and frantic preparations. Courtiers polished the meager silverware. The gardener, already mourning his flowerbeds, mumbled prayers to every god he knew.
"Do you think they'll break anything?" Queen Mira asked.
"Does turning a garden hose into a snake count?" King Alden replied, glancing warily at Caelum, who was busy making toy boats float upside down in his bath.
The boy's laughter echoed—a curious, echoing sound that seemed to ripple through the marble floors, pinging glass and setting the magical wards vibrating. In the last week alone, he'd altered the royal cat's color scheme to match the drapes and given his nanny a "Mute" button, which she still hadn't quite located.
As the Eight Nation Leaders disembarked onto the palace lawn, the international hierarchy of power was on full comedic display:
Lady Pyrra of Pyrrhium, her head ablaze with flickering fire, marched at the front, demanding to see the "miracle brat."
Lord Umbra, literally emerging from Lady Pyrra's shadow to the collective groans of everyone present, smirked and took notes.
High Chancellor Voltinax of Voltaris sent small lightning balls zipping between his fingers, almost lighting the prince's favorite tree ablaze.
Sir Zephion of Zephyrax tried (and failed) to beat his own record for "Fastest Palace Entry," barreling through the servants' entrance and collapsing in a swirl of wind.
The remaining leaders—of Cryostel, Mirenia, Terragaard, and Solaria—tried to look dignified, but found themselves juggling the effects of local gravity shifts (Caelum's latest "garden patch").
And at the front of them all stood Emperor Magnus, mustache freshly recovered (though still slightly purple), scepter gleaming, eyes twinkling with curiosity and mischief.
"King Alden! Queen Mira!" Magnus declared, voice booming so loud it rattled loose a portrait. "We come to greet the… gifted… Prince Caelum Liraeus, in the name of the Eldran Empire!"
Mira bowed, suppressing a smile as one of Caelum's toy ducks began circling Magnus's boots.
"Of course, Your Majesty. We are honored—and grateful—for your attention. Please… er… try not to vaporize the livestock?"
A strained silence stretched—then, to the horror of the local dignitaries, Caelum toddled into the room, strings of code trailing like ribbons as his unseen authority flickered to life.
He looked up at the Emperor, then the assembled Eight, then at his mother.
He blinked.
[System Prompt: "Mass Ability Detected. Request: Status Review. Overwrite Rights?]"
The icons shimmered above the heads of the visiting dignitaries. Caelum squinted, as if sifting through a particularly tricky puzzle. Suddenly, in one hilarious moment, every power in the room "glitched":
Lady Pyrra's flame turned to bubbles.
Lord Umbra's shadow went polka-dotted—and every time he tried to look menacing, he squeaked.
Sir Zephion spun in slow motion, his wind powers affected by a sudden "low battery."
The Great High Healer from Cryostel proceeded to sneeze snowflakes.
Emperor Magnus's scepter played "Yankee Doodle" whenever moved.
The dignitaries froze in comical confusion, power-drunk egos at the mercy of a giggling child.
Magnus stared at Caelum, who calmly toddled closer and patted the Emperor on the knee.
"Fun?" the little prince asked.
The Emperor, seeing the terror and awe in his Eight's eyes, broke into peals of laughter.
"My boy," Magnus wheezed, "You are welcome in my empire… nay, you may one day run it!"
The Eight clamored to regain dignity, only to trip over each other as the petulant code in the air "auto-corrected" their powers back—somewhat—leaving everyone with memorable new quirks.
As the palace recovered, one thing became hilariously, dangerously clear: Liria's prince wasn't just special—he was the system itself, and the rules were already changing.