The air of the Underworld didn't just smell; it tasted of copper and ash.

  ?Lixandra shed her wings as she crossed the threshold of the Royal Fortress, the massive obsidian doors absorbing the sound of the outside world. Here, the silence was aggressive, a held breath waiting for violence. The ambient light was a bruised violet, filtered through layers of volcanic smog that clung to the high, vaulted ceilings like spiderwebs.

  ?"Must you always make an entrance that shakes the chandeliers, Lixandra?"

  ?Azazel lounged on a chaise of carved bone, flicking a small fireball between his fingers like a coin. The heat from his corner of the hall was suffocating, instantly drying the moisture from Lixandra's eyes. He was sixteen, but the Fire Nature burning under his skin gave him the volatile, shivering presence of an active volcano.

  ?Lixandra didn’t break stride. She let a single thread of her Tether snap out—not at him, but at the crystal glass of blood wine resting on the table beside him.

  ?Snap

  ?The glass shattered inward, the liquid exploding into a fine red mist that sizzled and evaporated as it hit Azazel’s heat aura.

  ?"If the chandeliers are fragile, perhaps you should invest in stronger glass, Azazel."

  ?He bristled, the flames on his fingertips flaring from a lazy orange to a hot, angry blue—the color of perfect combustion. But he didn't stand. The invisible weight of her Tether pressed down on his shoulders, a subtle, increasing gravity that forced him to sink an inch deeper into the cushions.

  ?She left him simmering in his own heat and moved deeper into the labyrinth. The temperature dropped as she approached the family wing. Here, the chaotic energies of the fortress were dampened, muffled by layers of ancient protective wards that hummed just at the edge of hearing.

  ?Lucina sat on the floor, surrounded by blocks that kept dissolving into sand. The ten-year-old Berserker looked up, her eyes wide and intelligent. She couldn't speak, but her Influence reached out—a soft, fuzzy warmth that felt like sunlight through a window, contrasting sharply with the metallic cold of the rest of the Fortress.

  ?Lixandra knelt, her structured suit creaking slightly. She placed a hand on the child’s head, and for a moment, the crushing pressure of the Tether around her own heart loosened.

  ?"The structural load requires uniform application, Lucina," Lixandra murmured, her voice stripped of the command frequency she used with Azazel. She guided the child's hand, stabilizing the sand with a microscopic lattice of Tether.

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  ?Further down the hall, the air grew heavy and damp. Arielle sat in his corner, rocking. The potted ivy in his lap was grey, its life force visibly streaming into his chest in faint, green wisps. He was a black hole in the shape of a boy.

  ?"You're absorbing too much," Lixandra said, her voice clinical but soft. She reached out, using a delicate pincer of Tether to pinch the flow of energy shut. The ivy slumped, but the green slowly returned to its leaves as the drain ceased.

  ?She stood, dusting her hands. She had secured the human. She had managed the siblings. Now, she had to face the Tower.

  ?The entrance to the King's study didn't have a door; it had a barrier of pure, condensed Time. Walking through it felt like wading through molasses, every step taking an eternity, the sound of her own heartbeat slowing to a crawl until the gaps between beats felt like hours.

  ?"You took a gamble in Devenia," the King said. He didn't look up from his desk. The air around him distorted light, bending the view of the violet sky outside into a swirling vortex.

  "A calculated necessity, Father," Lixandra replied, coming to a halt before his desk. She kept her posture perfectly straight, meeting his gaze with her own cold confidence. Their relationship was not one of father and daughter, but of CEO and Heir Apparent.

  "Necessity," the King echoed, finally looking at her. His eyes glowed faintly with the blended strength of his borrowed Natures. "You allowed a minor human librarian to leverage his pitiful loneliness against the heir to the throne. That sounds like a gross miscalculation of optics, Lixandra."

  "The optics are secondary to the goal," she countered. "I have secured the source of information regarding the three-natured being—the one who possesses earned Natures, not merely inherited ones. The human I contracted, Lyon Sairest, is weak, easily manipulated, and terrified. But he holds the key to power that goes beyond the throne's decree." She paused, allowing the implication to hang: My power will be superior to yours.

  The King steepled his fingers, a faint, condescending smile touching his lips. "You chase a ghost. The throne ensures power. Stability is more valuable than ultimate might."

  "Stability is stagnation," Lixandra shot back, her voice firm. "Your three Natures, granted by this chair, ensure the continuity of our rule. But a human with three Natures achieved through Influence alone—that is a rupture in the laws of existence. If I can understand that rupture, then my rule will be truly absolute."

  The King merely nodded, a sign of weary approval. He knew her ambition; he respected it. "See that you do not break the laws of the Underworld in the process. The contract must hold, however distasteful. Do not allow your human to die or escape. If you fail to produce this three-Nature phenomenon, your little brother Azazel is waiting patiently, ready to wield the Fire and the political backing of those who fear true change."

  Lixandra felt a spike of hatred at the mention of her tedious Grim Reaper brother. "He will not prevail. I have already initiated the search. I will have the knowledge I need soon, Father."

  "Then go," the King dismissed. "And remember, Lixandra: the difference between a Queen and a failure is the efficiency of her cruelty. Your contract with the librarian must be profitable, not sentimental."

  Lixandra bowed her head, a gesture of respect, not subservience, and left the tower. Her father had confirmed it: her pursuit of three Natures was the only path to a power that truly surpassed the King's default. She had a contract, a timetable, and a ruthless brother waiting for her to fail. She needed to test this Lyon Sairest immediately.