Orion then turned his full attention to Terra, his gaze softening as he gently brushed a pastry crumb from her cheek. "So, what do you think about all of this?"
Terra blinked, her clear hazel gaze boring into Orion's as she touched a finger to her chin in thought. "Hmm… well, I was just thinking about where that Major weirdo came from. He said he was from a fleet, and those are boats, right? I've never been on a boat before. Or seen the ocean. Is it big?"
Orion chuckled at the honest, simple question. He took Terra's hand in his, slowly caressing the back of it with his thumb, sending a ripple of warmth between them.
"It's very big," he said gently. "So big it looks like it goes on forever. We'll sail the seas one day." As he spoke, he gave her hand a gentle squeeze, which prompted a soft, contented sigh from her.
"You know," Orion spoke again, his voice lower, more curious, "there really is something special about you. Your Aether Core is purer than any I've encountered, and I assume you're not an heiress from some hidden noble family."
He met her gaze. "Moreover, the sheer strength of your Diamond Aether can already overwhelm experienced C-Rank Heroes. You're not normal, Terra."
Throughout his words, Terra shivered slightly, a faint blush rising on her cheeks from his gentle touch. Her eyes gleamed with a simple pleasure. "Oh… this is so warm, and so tingly! Hmm… oh, and I don't come from a weird background. I come from the Strata, though I've spent most of my time at the Aegis Academy since my Talent awakened."
Orion curled his brows. "The Academy, eh? For Principal Gold to know you by name, you must have carved your own way through pure talent, right?"
Terra simply shrugged, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Uhm, I guess. I was just good at making diamonds, and that's just what I do. Since they rarely even cracked, those nosy teachers thought it was really important."
At this, Orion's eyes lit up with inspiration. He gestured to an open space on the reinforced training floor. "Say, how about you show me your Diamonds again? But this time, let your imagination run wild. Think that whatever you can imagine is real."
Terra blinked at his words, not questioning or hesitating. She just nodded. "Okay."
She closed her eyes. For a moment, she was perfectly still. Then, her Aether flared—a brilliant, crystalline light that was grounding and solid. The air didn't chill like Elysia's or heat up like Lisanna's; it became still, heavy with a telluric, unyielding force.
From the floor around her, raw, uncut diamond structures began to grow. They were not the polished, perfect facets of a gemstone, but magnificent, geological formations. Thick, translucent veins of pure carbon lattice shot through the ground like the roots of a world tree.
Sharp, angular pillars erupted towards the holographic sky, and complex, interlocking crystals formed massive clusters, all humming with an internal, absolute, unbreakable power.
Orion calmly studied the phenomenon, his [Cognitive Acceleration] and the System's analytical functions working in perfect tandem. He watched the flow of her unique Diamond Aether, saw its structure at a conceptual level.
An idea began to form, a path similar to Elysia's concept of [Absolute Zero] and Lisanna's [Solar Judgment]. He was starting to see a path where these diamonds could embody a profound, absolute concept: the very principle of Unbreakable, the perfect synthesis of attack and defense.
In that moment of insight, Orion pointed with his finger. Drawing on the data flooding his System, he manifested a glimmering stream of Aether, perfectly mimicking the frequency and structure he had just observed.
The Diamond Aether condensed, rapidly taking the form of a beautiful, flawless diamond pillar, a brilliant gleam sparkling off its crystalline shine.
Terra's eyes sparkled at the sight. "Oh, that's really good for a first try, Orion. But… uhm, I think you're missing some points."
Orion smiled with genuine curiosity. "Is that so? And what are these points?"
Terra furrowed her brows, taking a few seconds as she searched for the words.
"Hmm… I think you should think like me," she finally said. "Like… I always think strong things should be strong. My diamonds are really, really strong. So they don't break. It's simple."
Orion paused.
That utter conviction in her voice. There was no complex theory, no philosophical pondering, just a pure, simple belief that was, in itself, unbreakable. It made him wonder if Terra's "Realization" hadn't been a moment of profound insight, but a simple, childish decision: she wanted a strong power that could never be broken, and so it was. Her will had imposed an axiom upon the world.
Such a thought caused Orion's eyes to gleam. Truthfully, no matter how profound Elysia's thoughts were, how imaginative Lisanna's creations could be, or how unyielding Lyra's determination was, this simple yet absolute conviction from Terra was utterly unique to her.
A genuine, warm smile touched Orion's lips. "You have a beautiful way of looking at the world, Terra."
He leaned in slowly, giving her ample time to react or pull away. She didn't. She just blinked, her expression one of mild, placid curiosity as he closed the distance.
He kissed her.
It was not a kiss of fiery passion like with Lisanna, nor one of possessive discovery like with Elysia. It was gentle, grounding, and warm—as solid and reassuring as her power itself. As their lips met, a cascade of notifications bloomed in his mind.
[Symbiotic Fusion with Terra has slightly deepened.]
[Profound bond data synthesized from an individual of unique conviction.]
[Host Aether Core's Durability and Density slightly increased.]
[Host Aether Core Growth Rate permanently increased by 15%.]
Internally, Orion was slightly surprised. The System hadn't rewarded him so for merely deepening feelings with Elysia or Lisanna before their bond was fully consummated.
And yet, this single, gentle kiss with Terra—a girl whose power was a literal axiom—granted him powerful boons to the very foundation of his core. Her potential was clearly different, perhaps even more terrifying in its own way.
It was something to note, but for now, he didn't focus on it. He pulled back from the kiss, wanting to fully enjoy Terra's reaction.
Her face was flushed a brilliant red, her wide eyes dazed. "Oh," she breathed out. "Uhm. Wow."
She touched her lips, looking utterly stunned but not upset in the slightest. "That was… tingly. Like, all over."
She paused, looking back up at Orion with a clear, honest gaze and a beautiful, radiant smile.
She simply said, "I want it again."
Orion opened his mouth to speak, but before a word could escape, Terra had already leaned in, initiating another soft, sensual kiss. Surprised but pleased, Orion simply responded in kind, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her close, enjoying this brief, perfect moment of serenity before the coming storm.
...
Two days passed in the blink of an eye, a tranquil blur that stood in stark, defiant contrast to the storm brewing just over the horizon.
For any other power, let alone a mere C-Rank Province , the knowledge that a formal delegation from an A-Rank-backed military power was en route would have been cause for pandemonium.
The atmosphere would have been thick with a palpable, choking tension. Strategies would be furiously debated in panicked war rooms, contingencies planned and discarded, and the nerves of every hero and politician frayed to their absolute breaking point.
But for the current residents of the Wintercroft estate, it was, quite simply, another day.
Orion, Lyra, and Terra went about their business with an unnerving, almost insulting, casualness.
Orion spent his time as he always did: dividing it between guiding his bonded partners' explosive new levels of power, indulging in Terra's simple yet profound view of the world, and generally treating the impending confrontation with a B-Rank Major as little more than a minor, slightly tedious appointment on his calendar.
Lyra, finding the agonizing wait for a new "toy" to break insufferable, had all but taken up residence in the estate's most advanced gravity chambers. She pushed her body to its absolute limits with a ferocity that bordered on self-destruction. The only sounds from within were the sonic booms of her movements and her occasional, frustrated snarls. Her current goal was to be sharper, faster, and deadlier than her brother.
Terra, meanwhile, had made a world-shaking discovery: the estate's extensive dessert menu. She had dedicated herself to the noble and all-consuming pursuit of trying every single pastry, her days filled with the simple, unadulterated joys of lemon tarts, triple-chocolate éclairs, and raspberry mille-feuille.
The political machinations of the world were, to her, a distant and remarkably uninteresting noise compared to the crunch of a perfect crème brûlée.
Only Elysia and Lisanna felt the faintest tremor of the coming earthquake. They poured over encrypted intelligence reports, their noble upbringing demanding they understand the enemy, even if their instincts told them it was a futile gesture. They learned of the Argent Federation's rigid, uncompromising command structure. They read of its history of ruthless efficiency in protecting the world's shipping lanes and its specialty in weather and water-based Talents. They memorized the battle records of its decorated officers, including the formidable Admiral Vorlag and the High-Tier B-Ranks, Tsunami Riptide and Maelstrom.
Yet, even for them, the sharp edge of genuine fear had been irrevocably dulled. The new, terrifying power thrumming just beneath their skin—a gift from Orion, a reflection of his power—was a constant, deafening, reassuring presence.
The memory of their own exponential growth , of the conceptual leap they had taken, made the threat of a "Mid-Tier" B-Rank feel... manageable.
The profound, worshipful awe they felt for Orion's true strength was a far more potent and all-consuming force than any lingering fear of an unknown enemy.
And so, when the morning of the meeting finally arrived, the world felt strangely, beautifully peaceful.
The sun rose over Zenith City , a brilliant, glistening orb that cast long, dramatic shadows from the chrome-and-glass towers of the Apex and bathed the sprawling, endless Strata in a soft, optimistic light.
At the city's primary spaceport—a grand, triumphant structure of sweeping ferroconcrete arches and bustling, silent anti-gravity traffic—a pocket of absolute, profound silence had been carved out on a private landing platform.
Orion stood at the forefront of his small, eclectic group, a leader by default, not by demand. He was dressed in simple, form-fitting black clothes that seemed to drink the morning light, making him a stark, sharp silhouette against the bright, cloudless sky.
A slight, almost mocking smile played on his lips, his eyes holding a lazy, deep-seated confidence as he gazed at the empty heavens.
His word alone had been enough to clear a five-mile radius of all personnel and halt all incoming and outgoing traffic for this single "meeting." It was a casual, almost thoughtless, display of the absolute, iron-fisted authority he now wielded in Cascadia.
He had made one exception, however. A swarm of cloaked, high-altitude media drones, invited by him, were already in position, streaming this event to every major news channel across all B-Rank regions.
A good show, after all, was utterly wasted without an audience.
Beside him, Elysia and Lisanna stood as perfect paragons of their noble heritage, a breathtaking portrait of ice and light.
Elysia wore a tailored, high-collared white combat tunic, its severe lines softened by intricate silver embroidery that mirrored the frost patterns of her power. Her silver-blue hair was tied back in an elegant but practical braid, and her expression was one of cold, regal indifference. Her gaze swept over the vast, empty spaceport as if it were a mildly interesting, but ultimately primitive, painting.
Lisanna, ever her vibrant counterpart, wore a flowing, golden-hued dress that shimmered like captured, liquid sunlight. It seemed delicate as a butterfly's wing, yet was woven from Aether-conductive fibers designed for high-intensity battle. A placid, almost playful smile graced her beautiful features, but her golden eyes were sharp, missing nothing.
Together, they radiated a suppressive, royal presence that seemed to warp the very air around them, a fusion of frost and fire that demanded subservience.
In stark contrast, Lyra couldn't be bothered with such pageantry. Having flatly and profanely rejected the combat-ready outfits Elysia had prepared for her, she wore plain, dark grey cargo pants and a black top, clothes meant for maximum flexibility and nothing else.
She was leaning against a nearby support pylon, arms crossed, a look of pure, unadulterated boredom etched onto her face.
Terra stood near Orion, similarly dressed for comfort in a simple yellow sundress. Her beauty, however, couldn't be concealed by casual attire; she shone like a rare, flawless, unpolished gem. Her hazel eyes were wide with genuine wonder, completely ignoring the tense anticipation as she stared, fascinated, at a massive, city-block-sized cargo hauler taking off in the far, far distance.
"Uhm... Orion," she murmured, her voice filled with awe, "that thing is really, really big. Does it go to space?"
Before Orion could answer, a shadow fell over them.
It descended from the sky with a silent, predatory grace, a stark, geometric blot against the clear blue. It wasn't the colossal ASF Vanguard carrier itself, but a smaller, military-grade dropship. Its hull was painted in the same imposing dark blue and silver of the Argent Federation, its advanced anti-gravity engines barely disturbing the air as it landed with whisper-quiet, lethal precision.
Its ramp lowered with a sharp, pressurized hiss that sliced through the ambient hum of the distant port, a sound that felt like an unsheathed blade.
Major Corbin Stone emerged first. His presence was a physical weight, as powerful and uncompromising in person as it had been through the flat medium of a hologram. He wore the immaculate, decorated uniform of his station, his face a mask of cold, chiseled stone.
He was flanked by the three B-Rank privates from the conference room, and they moved with the synchronized, lethal grace of a trained wolfpack.
The fiery-red-haired man, Drake, had a cocky, arrogant smirk plastered on his face.
The aristocratic woman, Aquila, regarded her surroundings with a disdainful, upturned sneer, her eyes lingering on the C-Rank architecture with open contempt.
The third, a mountain of muscle named Breaker, simply wore an expression of bored, effortless superiority.
As they strode across the platform, Major Corbin's expression was an unreadable mask, but his eyes were sharp, analytical tools, dissecting every detail. The pressure he exuded was a palpable force, a gravitas honed in battle, enough to make even seasoned C-Rank heroes break into a cold sweat.
Yet, as his gaze swept over Orion's group, he felt the first flicker of genuine annoyance.
None of them flinched. None of them showed respect. None of them, save the two nobles, even seemed to notice the crushing weight of his authority.
The three privates didn't bother concealing their contempt. Their Aether Senses, a skill honed in countless life-or-death battles, swept across the five figures before them.
What they found was, to them, utterly laughable.
Elysia and Lisanna were clearly B-Ranks, but the chaotic, tempestuous flux of their Aether screamed 'newly awakened.' Their power was a raging, uncontrolled ocean; it was vast, yes, but clumsy, unrefined, and lacking the density of a true veteran.
Terra was dismissed instantly, her C-Rank signature barely registering as a threat, a hard pebble in their path.
And as for Orion and Lyra, the supposed continental anomalies?
They felt… nothing.
Their Aether was so calm, so placid, it was like sensing a stagnant pond. It had none of the raging, visible power that signified a true B-Rank.
To the soldiers, used to the overt, flaring power of typical heroes, this perfect, abyssal calm was misinterpreted as the ultimate weakness. It was a pathetic, embarrassing showing.
Drake leaned toward his comrades, his voice a low, condescending mutter deliberately meant to be overheard by everyone on the platform.
"Look at this welcoming party. A couple of dolled-up noble girls who just popped their cores, some ditzy kid, and… those two. These are the B-Rank anomalies that have command so worried? Pathetic."
The insult landed like a physical blow in the silent air.
Elysia's indifferent gaze turned instantly frosty, the temperature around her dropping five degrees.
Lisanna's playful smile tightened at the edges, a dangerous golden light swirling in her eyes.
Lyra's sneer deepened, a low, predatory growl rumbling in her chest as she finally pushed off the wall, her boredom instantly replaced by a simmering, joyous violence.
But it was Terra who replied first, tilting her head with genuine, innocent curiosity.
"Why are they so mad already?" she asked, her voice carrying clearly across the platform. "Orion, you didn't even beat them up yet."
The three privates' faces twitched. Drake's smirk vanished, replaced by a dark flash of anger. "You little—"
Major Corbin raised a single, gloved hand, silencing his subordinate instantly. He stopped a respectable ten meters away from Orion, his cold, heavy gaze finally locking onto the man at the center of it all.
"Orion. Lyra," he began, his voice devoid of emotion, a flat, powerful baritone that commanded attention. "It seems we can get this meeting done quickly. Especially when I am forced to hear inane comments from those who should not be permitted to speak."
Orion raised a curious eyebrow, the mocking smile never leaving his eyes. "We similarly don't want to hear bullshit from your little minions," he replied, his tone light and utterly conversational. "Let's just cut to the chase. Say whatever you have to say, no meandering. I want you all out of my city already. We have pastries waiting."
His casual, utter dismissal of their rank caused Aquila to scoff, a profound, watery Aether aura rippling from her in a wave of pressure. A torrent of swirling, high-pressure water began to coalesce around her feet, churning the air.
"Your city? Are you sure about that, boy?" she practically spat, her voice laced with venom. "It seems you're quite naive, believing this little C-Rank power you wield lets you make all the rules. This is a C-Rank Province , and it falls under the jurisdiction of the Provincial Hero Association Directorate. We are an authorized investigative unit, here on their authority, to contain a potential threat to continental stability."
"Threat?" Lyra scoffed, rolling her eyes with such theatrical disdain it was an insult in itself. She jabbed a finger directly at Major Corbin. "Stone, shut your dipshit's dogs up already and say whatever dipshit orders you have so I can get this over with."
"You…!" The three privates' eyes narrowed to slits. Killing intent—raw, undisguised, and honed on the high seas—oozed from them, staining the air with the smell of ozone and salt.
Before any of them could act, Major Corbin snorted, a cold, sharp sound that seemed to suck the air from the atmosphere.
"This undisciplined, chaotic behavior is the exact reason why we are here," he remarked, his gaze unwavering, as if he were addressing unruly children. "The unsanctioned and unrecorded appearance of two new B-Rank Talents is an event that requires immediate investigation. The Directorate agrees. We will be establishing a temporary base of operations in Zenith City to oversee this province until you are deemed stable. We require your full cooperation. You and your sister will submit to a full debriefing and power evaluation."
He took one step forward, the full weight of his Mid-Tier B-Rank Aether Core pressing down on them.
"That is not a request."
Elysia and Lisanna blinked. "Request?" they both uttered aloud, almost in unison, the word tasting absurd on their tongues.
Lisanna giggled, a bright, dangerous, tinkling sound. "Oh boy, this is gonna be fun."
Elysia let out a long, weary sigh, as if dealing with a profoundly stupid child. "As expected of their egos."
Lyra's sneer twisted into a wide, hungry, bloodthirsty grin, her body already tensing like a predator about to pounce.
Terra just tilted her head again, her expression one of pure, guileless confusion.
"Not a request?" she stated simply. "Hm, I don't get it. It's like you want to get beat up. Orion and Lyra have a really bad attitude to anyone telling them what to do."