Three days after the assassin's attack, the capital star of the Empire gleamed like a jewel in space.
Xiao Lin stood by the window of the Marshal's private cruiser, eyes wide as he took in the sprawling glitter of the city-world below.
Spiraling towers reached into the clouds like silver needles.
Hovercraft zipped between floating parks filled with strange, neon-colored trees.
Golden banners hung from spires, each one bearing the symbol of the Empire: a crowned dragon coiled around three stars.
The Festival of Unity.
Officially, it was meant to honor the Empire's founding, to showcase strength and unity across the galaxy.
Unofficially, it was a week of politics, secret deals, and dangerous games played by nobles and military elites.
Sheng Long adjusted the black and gold cloak draped over his shoulders, watching Xiao Lin from the corner of his eye.
"You look like a farm boy seeing the city for the first time," he said dryly.
Xiao Lin flushed.
"I... I've never been off my planet before."
Sheng Long grunted.
"You'll need to act like you belong. Keep your head high. Trust no one."
Yan Shuo, adjusting a sleek military-style outfit nearby, chuckled.
"Maybe don't tell him to trust no one, Marshal. He needs to trust us."
Sheng Long shot him a glare.
Xiao Lin smiled shyly and smoothed down the embroidered jacket he'd been given — deep red, with silver fox motifs stitched subtly into the sleeves.
"Do I... look alright?" he asked hesitantly.
For a second, neither Sheng Long nor Yan Shuo spoke.
Sheng Long felt something strange twist in his chest.
Alright?
The boy looked like he had stepped out of a dream.
Slender but dignified.
Hair soft and shining like moonlight.
Eyes bright with a cautious hope that made something fierce stir in Sheng Long's protective instincts.
He cleared his throat roughly.
"You'll do."
Yan Shuo smirked behind his hand.
The docking port was a bustle of ships and dignitaries.
Everyone was dressed in their finest — shimmering gowns, glinting armor, elaborate masks.
The Empire loved a show.
Sheng Long led the way, head held high, his presence cutting through the crowd like a blade.
He wore a partial disguise — a military captain's insignia from a distant sector, not enough to hide completely, but enough to blur recognition at a glance.
Xiao Lin stayed close at his side, drinking in everything.
He could smell so many things at once — perfumes, metal, strange spices from alien worlds.
His half-fox instincts twitched with unease.
So many people here wore masks — literal and metaphorical.
"Remember," Sheng Long murmured, voice low by his ear.
"Watch. Listen. Say little."
Xiao Lin nodded.
The Festival's Opening Ball was held in the Sky Palace — a gleaming structure suspended by anti-gravity fields high above the city.
Golden lights spilled across marble floors.
Musicians played strange, beautiful instruments in the corners.
Nobles laughed and gossiped, their voices sharp with hidden daggers.
Sheng Long moved through the throng with the easy danger of a stalking beast.
Xiao Lin followed, feeling like a small silver fish trailing behind a shark.
He caught glimpses of the royal family — the Emperor, an aging man with cold eyes and an even colder smile; the Crown Prince, tall and handsome but with something twisted in his gaze; various younger royals dressed in scandalous silks and whispering with courtiers.
Danger radiated from them like heat.
Xiao Lin suppressed a shudder.
Yan Shuo slipped beside him at one point, murmuring quietly.
"Notice their guards? Zerg technology... hidden in their armor. And look there — that ambassador. Rumored to have Zerg sympathies."
Xiao Lin's heart raced.
They're everywhere.
Even here — even at the Empire's heart — the enemy had seeped in like poison.
Sheng Long paused at the edge of the ballroom, dark eyes scanning sharply.
He didn't intend to engage yet.
Tonight was for observing.
But even he couldn't hide his tension.
Someone here had sent an assassin after Xiao Lin.
And someone here had likely betrayed humanity itself.
Later, as they drifted away from the main ballroom into the quieter gardens, Xiao Lin looked up at Sheng Long, his voice hesitant.
"Marshal... are you sure we can win against them?"
Sheng Long looked down at him, something fierce and almost sad in his expression.
"We have to," he said simply.
Xiao Lin nodded, swallowing down fear.
In the distance, fireworks exploded — silver dragons curling through the night sky, crimson foxes chasing after them.
A strange omen.
Hope intertwined with danger.
And somewhere among the glittering courtiers and treacherous smiles, the first move of a deadly new game had already been played.