Scene 4 – The Arrival of the Golden Shark
After Akira's quiet musings about home, Draco stepped out of the bathroom, freshly showered. He gave Akira a peculiar look, then puckered his lips teasingly, mimicking a kiss with an exaggerated "muah."
Akira let out a soft laugh and ducked into the bathroom himself.
Once he'd finished his shower and dressed up, Akira headed downstairs as usual. Today, both he and Draco had put a bit more effort into their outfits than usual—though their signature styles remained intact.
Oddly, the familiar chirpy "good morning" from Yue was nowhere to be heard. Instead, Akira spotted her standing by herself, trembling slightly—ears drooped, tail low. He approached gently, calling out softly,
"Yue, good morni—"
Before he could even finish, Yue jolted in surprise, leaping onto a nearby chair with a startled squeak. But the chair wobbled under the sudden impact, tipping dangerously. Yue quickly sprang off again, just in time—but the momentum sent the chair crashing to the floor with a loud thud.
Everyone immediately rushed out from the kitchen—Keela, Mirelle, and the kitchen staff among them.
"What happened? Is everyone okay?" Keela called out.
Elina hurried to Yue's side, finding her sitting on the floor like a frightened kitten. Osiris went to inspect the fallen chair. The atmosphere was tense—everyone visibly alarmed.
All except Akira, who had to stifle a small chuckle.
Draco nudged him with an elbow.
"What's so funny? This doesn't look funny to me. Yue's obviously scared."
Akira stepped forward and offered his hand to help Yue up.
"Sorry. I wasn't laughing at our precious little sister. I was laughing at myself. I thought I was the only one feeling nervous… but I guess we're all anxious in our own way."
He gave a small smile.
"So instead of quietly carrying it all alone… maybe we should open up to one another, and move forward together. Even if we're afraid—at least, we're not alone."
Though his words weren't meant as comfort, they had the effect of comfort nonetheless.
It was as if the heavy stone in everyone's chest had been quietly ground to dust, and gently blown away—replaced by something lighter, something easier to breathe through.
And slowly, almost shyly, smiles began to bloom on every face.
The morning began with a breakfast that, though quiet, carried a certain sense of ease.
They ate in near silence—far more subdued than usual—and finished their meals rather quickly. No one said much. The mood was so noticeably different that even Osiris took note.
"Fascinating," she murmured. "Anxiety affects behavior this significantly? I'll need to collect detailed data on this 'Evan' guy."
After the meal, everyone gathered in the guest parlor. The room was simple in layout, yet still bore hints of royal elegance.
Unlike their usual chatter-filled mornings, the group sat together quietly, each person occupying themselves in their own way while waiting for Evan's arrival.
Mirelle was flipping through a wind magic tome, studying soundproofing spells.
Draco was practicing gyro-based stone control—a technique Akira had once taught him.
Yue concentrated on condensing light magic at her fingertip, then projecting it toward a self-cast light shield on her other hand.
Elina was refining the shape and density of her barrier magic to respond more intuitively.
Osiris was busy calibrating her various onboard sensors.
And Keela… Keela paced slowly by the window, waiting—tense but composed—for the arrival of her half-brother.
Akira watched them all, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
"They're all nervous, too… but instead of letting it consume them, they chose to sharpen their skills. Heh… I really am surrounded by dependable people."
And at last—
the moment they'd all been waiting for arrived.
Evan was here.
The moment Keela signaled his arrival, we stepped outside the palace to greet him.
A vessel descended—a fearsome ship shaped like a shark, styled after an orca. But unlike the original black-and-white palette, this one gleamed with gold and silver. Its mirror-like surface shimmered so brightly it hurt to look at, as if flaunting royal opulence through the menacing form of a predator.
As it landed, a soft cloud of dust lifted into the air. Mirelle raised a wind barrier to shield us from it. And from within that swirling haze, a group of figures emerged—untouched by the dust, as though surrounded by a barrier of their own.
One of them we recognized immediately. We had seen him once before.
Evan Onrae.
Surrounded by four elite bodyguards, he stepped forward, casually brushing imaginary dust off his shoulder.
"Keela," he said, his tone light but edged. "You didn't think to have someone clear the landing zone? A guest might choke on that dust—or worse, get it in their eyes. That could ruin a diplomatic negotiation before a single word is spoken, little sister."
Keela bowed politely.
"My sincerest apologies for the oversight, Brother Evan."
He lifted his chin slightly, offering a small smile.
"No harm done. We're family, after all. I'm merely offering advice. When it comes to diplomacy, one misstep can tarnish the dignity of Skyperion itself."
His words were mild, but his voice cut like a blade.
We all stood frozen, tense. Sweat began to form on some brows. A few of us swallowed hard.
"So this… is what Keela meant by 'strict.' But no—this was beyond strict. This was pressure—crushing and absolute."
With four imposing guards at his side and that gleaming shark-shaped vessel grinning with its rows of metallic fangs behind him, none of us could predict what this encounter would bring.
After all, first impressions carry weight.
Just like Evan had warned.
And this one—this first impression—could very well shape the judgment of a man who might one day wield one half of Skyperion's future power.
…A man we were now standing face to face with.
Keela led Evan into the royal guest hall.
Instead of taking a seat at the head of the table, he settled calmly in the center, flanked by a wiry man on his right and a hulking figure seated farther to the right. On his left sat a bald, barrel-chested man, and beside him, a sharp-smiling man with the air of a seasoned rogue.
Just their presence alone—the strength, the tension—felt like a gathering of the continent's strongest.
If things went south, Akira wondered, could these men take on his entire party?
Evan began the meeting with formal composure.
"Greetings to the Chosen and to the diplomatic delegation from the Guardians of Draft.
First of all, I must thank you for escorting my dear sister back home.
To show our appreciation, please accept complimentary Skyperion transit passes, valid for one year."
The wiry man next to him stepped forward, presenting seven elegant boxes.
Keela, seated in the middle, distributed them—handing them to Yue, Akira, and Mirelle on her left, and to Elina, Draco, and Osiris on her right.
Evan continued, gesturing to each man in turn.
"The man distributing the gifts is Vince Nightshorn, my personal advisor and the son of a distinguished diplomat.
To my right is Caeron Bastin, a distant cousin from my mother's side.
On my left—furthest down—is another relative, Cassius Varlen.
And next to him, my personal bodyguard, Lias Redfalcon.
Gentlemen, please greet our guests."
They stood, offered brief handshakes… but said nothing.
Still, their eyes flickered—tense, restrained, volatile.
It was as if they were barely containing the urge to speak—or lash out.
Cassius, in particular, failed to hide it. His glare radiated a bloodlust so thick Draco instinctively tensed up.
"Cassius," Evan said without raising his voice, yet sharp enough to cut bone.
"Ease up. These may be young ones, but they're highly influential. We wouldn't want a misstep to cost us everything."
The bloodthirst in Cassius' eyes faded immediately.
Evan smiled—but his eyes remained icy.
"My apologies. He's… impulsive. Short attention span. Likes chasing thrills. It's just his nature.
Please don't take it personally."
Keela waved it off with her practiced grace.
"Of course not. Cassius is still family, even if a distant branch."
Evan chuckled softly.
"Then I suppose this is more like a reunion, isn't it?"
He glanced at his watch, then turned back to Keela.
"Do you have any other plans today, dear sister? From now until evening?"
She blinked, caught off guard.
"No, not really. Why do you ask?"
Evan handed her a folded note and a sealed envelope.
Keela opened them curiously.
"What's this?"
This time, Evan smiled wider than before.
"A small welcoming banquet. I thought it appropriate to host something tonight in your honor—and for your companions.
In the envelope are seven invitations. The note has the name of a boutique.
They'll handle your wardrobe for the evening—no cost whatsoever.
Dress to stun, little sister. I want everyone there speechless."
We exchanged glances.
"Are we going?" our expressions seemed to ask one another.
But the silent consensus was clear:
We don't really have a choice.
It was strange. Normally, we would be excited—buzzing with anticipation for a formal event.
But this time… it felt different.
This time, it felt like something was waiting beneath the surface.
Like walking into a banquet—knowing full well you were stepping onto a chessboard.
Akira's thoughts weighed heavy.
"So this is his diplomatic style. No missteps, no loopholes. Precision and pressure in every word.
So different from Noren… or Kalan.
This guy's on another level entirely. Like watching Cao Cao in the flesh.
What traps lie hidden beneath his smile?
We'll need to be careful. Very, very careful."
No one said it aloud, but we all felt the same sense of unease.
Because at this banquet, fate itself might clash again.
And someone in our party might be the one caught in the crossfire.