The Grand Hall of Narchia had not been opened in nearly thirty years.
Not since the last peace treaty.
Back then the chamber had been filled with fear, suspicion, and exhausted rulers too tired of burying their dead to continue fighting. Now, after another war, history dragged everyone back into the same room again. Civilization really did have a talent for learning lessons only after setting entire countries on fire first.
The hall itself was breathtaking.
Massive white pillars stretched toward a domed ceiling painted with the histories of the races of Erathos. Humans, demons, beastkin, elves, dwarves, all carved together into murals of war and unity alike. At the center of the chamber stood a circular table of black stone large enough to seat kings comfortably.
Today every seat was occupied.
Human nobles whispered nervously amongst themselves.
Beastkin representatives watched the demon delegation carefully.
And at the northern end of the chamber sat Queen Nika.
Alive.
Weak still, but alive.
The crystal damage had left pale fractures across parts of her skin like cracked glass beneath the surface, but despite it all she carried herself with impossible grace. Silver-white hair flowed over ceremonial robes of black and crimson, and behind her stood Syrax in formal armor, arms folded tightly behind his back.
Not as a prince today.
As her heir.
Across from them sat the Human King Archon.
Older now than when the war first began, his once-dark beard streaked heavily with silver. The weight of leadership hung visibly from his shoulders, but unlike many rulers, he had not allowed it to hollow him out entirely.
Between them rested the new treaty.
Blank.
Waiting.
The hall remained silent until Archon finally spoke.
"When your son first came to us," the king said carefully, "many believed it was a trick."
Syrax remained silent.
Archon looked toward him anyway.
"But had he not crossed our borders when he did… none of us would be sitting here now."
Nika lowered her eyes briefly.
"My husband would be relieved to know his son succeeded where he could not."
The atmosphere shifted slightly at that.
Not lighter.
Just honest.
Archon leaned back slowly.
"The Golthraki threat changes everything," he admitted. "If even half of what we uncovered in Lukon's records is true, then this planet faces a danger greater than old territorial disputes."
Murmurs spread quietly across the hall.
"And you propose what?" a noble asked sharply. "That we simply trust demons again after all this?"
Before tension could rise further, another voice answered.
"No," Lith said casually from where he sat sprawled in his chair near the beastkin delegation. "You trust us because if those blood-sucking space bats come back, they're eating everybody."
The room went silent.
Archon rubbed his forehead.
"…there had to be a more diplomatic way to phrase that Kaelith."
Lith shrugged, bandages visible beneath his formal coat.
"I'm concussed, your majesty."
A few quiet laughs broke the tension.
Even Nika smiled faintly.
Then she stood.
The room immediately quieted again.
"For generations," the Queen began softly, "our peoples have survived by treating peace as temporary."
Her crimson eyes swept across the chamber.
"A pause between wars. A convenience. A transaction."
She looked down briefly at the treaty before continuing.
"That ends today."
The air itself seemed to still around her.
"The Demon Kingdom accepts responsibility for the devastation caused under my husband's rule while possessed by the Golthraki corruption. We will aid in rebuilding every territory harmed during this conflict, human and beastkin alike."
Several nobles looked visibly shocked.
Nika continued before anyone could interrupt.
"In return, we ask not for forgiveness," she said, "but for cooperation."
Her gaze shifted toward Archon.
"The races of Erathos cannot survive divided anymore."
Archon stood slowly as well.
For a long moment the human king and demon queen simply stared at one another across the table.
Then Archon nodded once.
"Agreed."
He stepped forward first.
Nika met him halfway.
And before the gathered rulers of the world, the Human King and Demon Queen clasped forearms together.
Not as enemies.
Not even as allies.
As survivors.
The hall erupted into applause soon after, some genuine, some reluctant, some purely political. Same thing, honestly.
Syrax exhaled quietly beside his mother, tension finally leaving his shoulders.
Nearby, Lith leaned over toward Jacob, who had arrived late wrapped almost entirely in bandages.
"…ten gold says somebody starts another war in twenty years."
Jacob sighed tiredly.
"You are the worst person to bring to a peace summit."
"Yet I keep getting invited," Lith replied proudly.
At the center of the hall, Archon signed the treaty first.
Then Nika.
And beneath the painted ceiling of Narchia, the Second Treaty of Unity was born.
The celebrations lasted long into the night.
Songs filled the streets of Airevein. Soldiers who had tried killing each other days prior now drank together beneath glowing lanterns while nobles gave long speeches pretending they had personally contributed to saving the world. Standard political behavior. Humanity could witness the apocalypse firsthand and still find a way to network afterward.
Lith endured exactly three hours of it before disappearing.
No farewell.
No announcement.
Just gone.
By the time moonlight blanketed the Veythros estate, he sat alone in the back gardens with a half-empty bottle beside him, staring quietly into the forest beyond the property.
The same forest.
The same trees.
Twelve years had passed, yet nothing there seemed to care.
The wind moved softly through the branches, carrying scents of rain, moss, and distant flowers. For a moment, if he closed his eyes, he could almost pretend time had rewound.
Abella laughing as she outran him through the woods.
Her ears twitching whenever she got embarrassed.
The first time she kissed him beneath the old silverleaf tree after arguing with him for nearly an hour straight.
Gods, she had been stubborn.
Lith smiled faintly to himself.
Then the smile faded.
Because the memories kept going.
Her hands trembling when she told him she was pregnant.
How tightly she held him that night.
How terrified and excited he'd been all at once.
How he promised her he'd become strong enough to protect them both.
And how none of it mattered in the end.
Lith stood slowly.
Without a word, he walked deeper into the forest.
Past the hunting trails.
Past the riverbeds.
Past the places filled with memories he no longer knew how to carry.
Until finally he reached it.
The barrier.
Even after all these years it still stood there silently at the edge of the forest, stretching impossibly high into the sky like a wall separating two different realities. Pale energy shimmered across its surface in soft waves, beautiful and cruel all at once.
Lith stared at it quietly.
Then his body began to change.
Bones cracked.
Muscles expanded.
Black and gold energy erupted around him in violent bursts as he assumed his Abyssal Panther form, the ancient transformation towering now in the darkness. Golden markings ignited across jet-black skin while claws dug molten trenches into the earth beneath his feet.
His eyes locked onto the barrier.
And he attacked.
The forest exploded.
Lith struck the wall with enough force to split the ground apart. Shockwaves tore through the trees as golden-black energy detonated outward again and again. He clawed at it, punched it, slammed against it with everything his body could produce.
The barrier didn't move.
He roared.
And attacked harder.
Minutes passed.
Then more.
The crater beneath him grew larger and larger, molten earth bubbling around his feet from the sheer heat and force pouring off his body. Entire sections of forest had flattened from the pressure alone.
Still—
the barrier remained untouched.
Lith's movements slowed eventually.
His strikes weakened.
Until finally one last punch landed against the shimmering wall.
And nothing happened.
The silence afterward felt unbearable.
Thirty minutes later, Lith knelt alone in the center of a molten crater, smoke rising from his battered body in slow streams. His transformation flickered weakly around him now, struggling to hold together as exhaustion finally caught him.
The barrier shimmered peacefully before him.
Untouched.
Lith lowered his head.
"…still not enough…"
The words barely came out.
After everything.
The war.
The battles.
The power he had awakened.
Still too weak.
Still unable to reach her.
His claws dug weakly into the molten stone beneath him as frustration twisted in his chest. For the first time in years, Lith felt small again. Not Duke Veythros. Not the warrior who fought beside kings.
Just a man kneeling in the dirt unable to reach the woman he loved.
The forest wind moved quietly around him.
And for a while
Lith simply stayed there.
Lith made it back to the estate late.
The young man had laid in that crater and cried for what felt like a lifetime before finally forcing himself to leave. Even then he barely remembered the walk home. Bottle still in hand, he drank himself stupid wandering through the forest paths back toward the estate.
By the time he reached the garden he was exhausted.
Not physically.
Just… tired.
Tired in a way battle couldn't fix.
Without a word he shifted fully into his beast form, massive black panther fur rippling under the moonlight as he curled up onto one of the cold marble benches in the garden.
And there he stayed.
Silent.
Until he felt something warm drape over his back.
Lith's ears twitched.
A blanket.
He didn't even need to look behind him.
"Please leave me be, Celine."