The morning sun hit the streets of Astraea, turning the capital into a beautiful landscape of white and blue.
Regius walked down the local market avenue, playing the part of the benevolent host. He wore a crisp linen shirt and tailored trousers, the dress of a noble at leisure. His squad gathered around him, dressed in high-quality civilian clothes provided by the palace staff.
Tiny sprite Elementals flitted between streetlamps, checking the energy filaments for the evening cycle. Massive, lumbering stone Constructs paved a section of the road, smoothing molten concrete with their large flat palms.
Regius smiled, pointing out landmarks, buying skewers of spiced meat from a vendor whose cart was heated by a bored-looking salamander, and acting every inch the relaxed young master.
He felt safe as he was on his home turf.
He didn't feel the gaze of the Aethel Shadows tracking his every step, logging his activities, etc.
"The guards here are lacking," Kael grunted, eyeing a patrol of the Household Regulars marching in lockstep.
"Really?" Regius asked. "How so?"
"Show ponies. Look at their eyes. They're watching the crowd for formations, not individuals. A professional assassin wouldn't march in a column. He'd walk like that old man by the fountain. Your boys would miss him until the knife was already in your ribs."
"Think you can do better than them?"
"Of course," Kael huffed. "I'll change strategies."
"How would you do that?"
"I wouldn't use a hammer to catch a fly. Keep the armored personnel near the gates. For the inner circle, we need eyes—people who think like the enemy."
Regius nodded.
"How did I do?"
"A good start," Regius said. "You didn't count that the guards here are just to show strength and establish order. The real surveillance is up above."
He pointed his index finger above. A floating platform hovered in place ten stories above the coast. Energy thrusters hummed, barely perceptible to the common people.
"What is that?" Vera asked.
"A new invention. It's a surveillance platform, I've heard," Regius said. "Equipped with state-of-the-art sensors and cameras, it's stationed by Dominion-ranked guards with recon-based summons."
"Damn…" Olin said. "No wonder it's my first time seeing it."
"Heh. If I knew something like that existed, I wouldn't make a fool of myself."
"It's alright, Kael. You did your best." Vera massaged his shoulders.
They moved into the Trade District. Construct scribes hovered over crates, tallying inventory with beams of red light. Olin watched them, his brow furrowed.
"They're wasting four percent," Olin muttered, adjusting his glasses.
"Excuse me?"
"The transfer rate," Olin pointed to a loader Construct moving crates of ore. "The logic script is looping unnecessarily between the dock and the warehouse ledger. If they optimized the routing, they could move ten more crates an hour. Over a year, that's... thousands of credits lost because of the lack of efficiency."
"Interesting…"
They reached the edge of the market avenue. On the sidewalk lies a holographic poster for the recruitment of the Aethel War Camp. It emphasized serving the domain and helping to guard its safety to grow into brilliant soldiers.
Tavus stopped.
He stared at the holograph. He didn't say anything. He touched the hilt of the iron dagger at his hip. His eyes were hard, focused on the place where he would be broken and remade.
Regius put a hand on his shoulder. "You still have time."
"I know…" Tavus nodded.
They turned a corner, and the Aurum Union Aethel Regional Headquarters loomed over them. It was a large office building of black marble and gold-veined glass, a monolith of wealth that is only second to the Palace itself. The entrance was guarded by crystal golems polished to a mirror sheen, refracting the sunlight into rainbows.
Regius stopped at the steps.
"I have boring administrative work to handle," Regius said. "I need to authorize the commission transfers and check my accounts. It will take an hour."
He transferred a hundred credits to Kael's account.
"There's a place near the shores. It's a seaside restaurant with excellent seafood and an amazing view of the ocean. It's three blocks east; you'll love it. I'll meet you there."
"You sure, Boss?" Kael asked, staring at his sigil link. "We can wait in the lobby."
"And bore your asses to death?" Regius laughed. "Go. Enjoy your time here at the city."
The squad grinned, the prospect of the ocean winning out over duty. They turned and headed east, checking out the local vendors along the way. Their leader just gave them a big sum of money, and they intend to splurge on every credit of it.
Regius watched them go. Then, he turned to the black glass doors. He adjusted his gloves.
He walked into the lobby.
Fifty yards back, the two Shadows moved to follow. They stepped onto the plaza, intent on maintaining visual contact.
As they crossed the threshold of the Union's property line, the air shimmered.
[CLIENT CONFIDENTIALITY WARD: ACTIVE]
The energy sensors embedded in the entrance flared orange. A subtle, high-frequency hum vibrated in the air—a warning. The Union's wards detected the active surveillance spells woven into the Shadows' cloaks.
The spies froze.
If they crossed that line, the wards would strip their stealth and trigger a silent alarm. It would be a diplomatic incident—House Aethel spying on the neutral grounds of the Aurum Union.
They exchanged a look. They stepped back to the plaza edge, forced to wait.
Regius walked into the elevator, completely unaware that the invisible wall of capitalism had just saved his secret.
———
The elevator rose, the city shrinking below.
The doors opened onto the penthouse floor.
It was a throne room of commerce. The floor was covered in plush velvet, the walls lined with rare art from the Southern Isles. A floor-to-ceiling window offered a panoramic view of Astraea, overlooking almost the entire city.
Lorn stood by the window, swirling a glass of amber liquid. He wore a suit of midnight-blue silk that cost more than the average house.
"Lord Regius," Lorn said, turning with a welcoming smile. "Welcome to the Aurum Union Aethel Regional Headquarters, more commonly known as the Astraea Union Branch. To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"Manager Lorn, or would you prefer Master Lorn?"
"Feel free to call me anyway you like. Those titles are meaningless to me. Please, sit."
In the eyes of the higher Dominion ranks, titles mean little to some of them. They've achieved great feats in their lives and have contributed greatly to humanity. To Lorn, his position means only a small marker in his name.
"I assume you didn't arrange a meeting just to see the view from my office."
"Of course not. I want the progress report."
Lorn smiled. He liked being straightforward.
"The market is shifting," Lorn said.
He tapped the desk. A holographic map of the Aethel Domain appeared. Superimposed over it was a complex web of lines—red, green, and gold—paired with financial statements.
Regius leaned forward. His eyes glowed faintly, observing every line and piece of information.
"House Marius has leveraged their mining operations to three minor banks in the capital and one private lending consortium."
"How much?"
"Everything," Lorn said. "They are underwater, my lord. They are paying interest with loans to pay other loans. It is a house of cards seconds from collapsing."
Stacks of red ledges hovered over the holographic map. Countless credits and loans were stated on it, signed by brokers that were hired by House Marius.
"They're extremely desperate," Regius said.
He raised his left hand. The leather glove creaked as he made a fist.
"Use the Black Signature. Buy it all. Use shell companies, use proxies, and route the funds through the Union if you have to. I want to be the sole owner of their debt."
Lorn's eyes gleamed. "Oh? And how are you able to buy it all? Despite being a wealthy young lord, your funds aren't enough to buy the entire debt of a noble house."
"Credit me with interest. The investment will multiply tenfold once House Marius falls and goes bankrupt."
"It will take time to consolidate the notes without alerting them—a few weeks at least."
"We have time."
Lorn smiled. He slid a data chip across the desk. It was engraved with the crest of the Valiant Houses, the host of the gala.
"I took the liberty of securing the guest list," Lorn said. "Cassius Marius will be there. He is looking for allies. And he'll look for trouble."
"Get it done, Lorn."
"Consider it handled." Lorn nodded. A wide smile appeared on his lips.
———
Regius met the squad at the seaside restaurant an hour later.
They were laughing as they tried to crack open massive crabs with metal pincers. The sun was setting, painting the ocean in shades of red and orange. Aethe's warships cut silhouettes against the horizon.
"Boss!" Vera waved a crab leg. "You missed the appetizer. Kael tried to fight a lobster."
"It pinched me," Kael defended, nursing his thumb. "The damn thing had a kinetic shell!"
Regius sat down.
He looked at his friends. He saw Kael laughing, the soldier's tension finally leaving his shoulders. He saw Olin sketching diagrams on a napkin. He saw Tavus pointing at the warships, his eyes full of wonder instead of grief.
For a moment, the weight of the Order, the debt, and the looming war felt distant.
Regius poured a glass of wine and raised it.
"To the future," he said.
"To the future," the squad echoed, clinking their glasses against his.
Regius drank. The wine was sweet. He leaned back in his chair, listening to the sound of the ocean and the laughter of his people