Chapter Ten:Reunion

Golden Promenade

Agartha

Divine Federation

Pleiades star sector

19th Krios cycle, Solaris prime Solaris Prime

The ballroom glittered like the interior of a starship cathedral—opulent, calculated, and utterly detached from the war-ravaged sectors it pretended to care about. Light refracted through hovering crystalline ornaments suspended in slow orbit around the ceiling. Holo-flames danced in translucent braziers along the marble walls, and the air was thick with perfumed haze and celebratory arrogance. Officials from the Divine Federation mingled freely with Outer System dignitaries, mercenary magnates, and corporate elites, their laughter ringing through the chamber like echoes of a victory that had yet to cost them anything.

In the far corner of the ballroom, partially cloaked by a half-curved pillar of polished obsidian, Arexander Pendragon stood in stillness. He sipped from a dark crystal glass—something bitter and sharp—and watched the spectacle unfold. The party, with all its glittering distractions and sycophantic flattery, had been thrown in honor of Meridien Karajan.

Her corporation, Karajan Dynamics, had just finalized a massive trade deal with the Divine Federation—offloading an enormous surplus of Xeta Dust to Outer System militias engaged in a proxy war against the encroaching fleets of the Ganymede Empire. It was the kind of sale that would tip the balance of the Cold War... and line the pockets of every official who had shaken hands on the deal.

The music swelled as Meridien made her entrance. She moved like a comet through the crowd—elegant, commanding, magnetic. Her gown shimmered with the color of obsidian kissed by starlight, tailored to perfection, with the Karajan crest glowing faintly along the lining of her collar. Like Meridien had wanted, she had taken control of the Karajan name and made it hers without the effort or help of her own family. Admirals, senators, and corporate officers turned to her with the reverence one gave royalty. She played the part well, smiling with just the right amount of grace, offering her hand for just the right number of seconds.

She had changed.

Rex watched, unmoving, the stem of his glass caught between two fingers. He remembered a younger Meridien—a warrior-idealist who had once stood on battlefields beside him, vowing to expose the corruption within the Federation. She had spoken of justice then. Of restoring truth. Of breaking the cycle.

But that version of her was gone. This version before him was entirely different from that girl he used to discuss about the justice system of the Federation. She had gone from someone who worked within the system, to someone influencing the system from outside. She wielded economic influence with surgical precision, buying allies instead of earning them, trading weapons and resources across sectors like a god manipulating star systems.

"Still hiding in corners," A voice said suddenly, Meri stepping beside him without warning—her voice like silk over steel. Rex noted the speed in which she had come around him. "You always did have a talent for brooding during my triumphs."

Rex didn't look at her at first. He took another sip, then replied flatly, "This isn't a triumph."

Meridien chuckled, raising her own glass of golden champagne. "The Federation thinks otherwise. The Outer Rim thinks otherwise. You'll forgive me if I celebrate closing a deal that might keep half of Cignus Sector from falling to Ganymede warlords."

"Is that what this is?" Rex asked, turning his gaze on her. "Charity disguised as profit?"

Her smile didn't falter, but something behind her eyes flickered—an old wound surfacing behind polished amber. "You've always had such a poetic way of insulting people," Meridien said, voice smooth as ever, though not without weight.

"And you used to care more about justice than margins," Rex shot back, his gaze steady.

A silence fell between them, dense and loaded, the kind that carried the weight of history. It wasn't hostile, but it wasn't comfortable either. It was the silence of two old warriors who had taken very different paths from the same battlefield.

"I care more about justice than most," Meridien said at last, her voice softer, though no less sharp.

"Then why weren't you at the meeting?" Rex asked. The words weren't accusatory—they were disappointed. "You're still a board member of Yaeger Corp. You had a seat at the table. But you chose not to sit in it."

Meridien's lashes lowered slightly, and when she spoke again, it was in a near-whisper meant only for him. Yet her voice carried an edge that cut deeper than any shout.

"It seems you've yet to truly understand how the Federation works."

Her tone was calm, even patient, but there was something in it that made Rex instinctively look her in the eye. What he saw startled him. A brief flash of whitish-gold shimmered in her pupils—a metaphysical flare of Conviction Aura, a rare force that signaled absolute certainty in one's beliefs. She wasn't just speaking from strategy. She was speaking from lived truth.

"The only thing that drives this system is power," she continued. "Power in all its forms—military, political, economic. Justice is no exception. It's just another currency in the vault of influence."

Rex exhaled slowly, the truth of her words coiling around him like smoke. He knew it. It was that very reality he'd spent his life trying to change. And yet hearing it from her—so plainly, so resignedly—made it feel like the truth had grown teeth. Before he could respond, a shift in the ambient energy around them prickled along his skin.

Rex's internal senses twitched. He looked up. And then he saw him.

Leonardo Haravok.

The ballroom changed in an instant. The whispers were subtle at first, like a breeze rustling through glass. But then they grew—into murmurs, then gasps. All around the upper balcony, heads turned, eyes widening as they caught sight of the figure descending the grand staircase.

Leon was dressed in a dark coat lined with gold threads, his silhouette sharp and elegant, eyes forward, expression unreadable. He moved with the confidence of someone who didn't need an invitation—who was the invitation. Beside him walked his cousin, Aria Delphi, resplendent in a shimmering violet gown threaded with starlight motifs, her eyes scanning the crowd with cool grace. On his other side was his ever-loyal attendant, Eleanor Dawnshade, dressed in black military regalia with the House of Leo insignia stitched onto her shoulder.

Rex's breath caught as his eyes landed on Aria. It had been years—decades—since he'd last seen her. Since the day he left Terra's star sector, they hadn't spoken. But their bond, though distant, was etched in childhood memory. She, Leon, and Rex had grown up together, back when the world was simpler and the lines weren't so blurred. Seeing her now, poised and regal, stirred something in him.

Leon's gaze swept across the room as he descended. He looked at no one in particular, yet everyone felt his presence. Nobles, corporate leaders, Federation ministers—all those who had smiled and schemed moments before now fell into a hush. Leon offered no acknowledgment. If he heard their murmurs, he dismissed them entirely. He moved like a storm wearing the skin of a man.

After Delacroix's message, Leon had made his decision. He would meet the bastard in person. Aria had insisted on accompanying him. So had Eleanor. And Leon, without protest, allowed them to come. He had returned to Agartha via the Tempus Drive—a teleportation link between Sol Palace and the Haravok family estate on Agartha. And no sooner had he arrived than word reached him of this opulent party.

So now, here he was.

Uninvited.

Unbothered.

Meridien's eyes lit with amusement the moment she saw him. She tilted her head slightly, lips curling into a sly grin. Of course Leon would arrive without warning. If she'd known he was back from whatever corner of the universe he had vanished to, she would've sent him a personal invitation—and perhaps an entire military escort just to keep things interesting.

Before the guards near the entrance could even process his presence, Meridien had already left Rex's side. She moved across the ballroom with a liquid grace, cutting through the crowd like a blade through silk. The guards hesitated as they saw her approach Leon ahead of them—and wisely stepped aside. The night, it seemed, had just shifted.

Leon noticed her the moment she began crossing the ballroom floor toward him—Meridein Karajan. The air shifted as she approached, her presence still as magnetic as ever, wrapped in grace and ambition.

A soft smile tugged at Leon's lips. It was like seeing a spark from an old flame that had never quite gone out.

Memories stirred—days at the Ascendant Academy, training in the solar gardens, hushed conversations under artificial stars. They had never officially been a couple, more a collision of kindred spirits than lovers, but there had been something between them. Something real. That is, until she'd drifted toward Emily.

He hadn't been bitter—just... surprised. And perhaps a little regretful. Emily had never been the type to show emotion, not then. That flame had burned cold. And like many of Meridein's connections, it had eventually withered into silence.

Leon hadn't seen Meri in years. During his self-imposed exile, he'd heard rumors—first of her leading a mercenary unit out in the Neutral Free Zones, then of her rising influence as a business magnate. By the time he returned, she had already built Karajan Dynamics, a powerful corporation that now held significant sway in both politics and warfare. That she now operated on a galactic stage came as no surprise to him—he'd always known her talent wasn't limited to cultivation.

He could feel it even now, that pressure beneath her skin—she had entered the Harmonization Stage. Her aura flowed clean, deep, and potent. A peer. Perhaps even a rival.

"Meri," Leon greeted, a warmth entering his voice as he lifted his glass slightly. "What a wondrous party you've thrown. My congratulations on the deal. I'm sure the Outer Systems will sleep better knowing the Inner System hasn't completely forgotten them."

Meridein offered a graceful tilt of her head, her smile coy. "I do what I can with what's allowed."

Her eyes swept to Aria Delphi and Eleanor Dawnshade, standing beside Leon. "It's good to see you looking... healthy. And out of hiding."

A nearby waiter drifted past with a silver tray of drinks. Leon plucked three flutes from it—one for himself, one for Eleanor, and one for Aria—offering each with a small nod. As he turned back to Meridein, a familiar presence made itself known.

Rex.

Leon's golden eyes found him with ease as he approached from the side of the ballroom.

"Rex," Leon said, genuine surprise flickering across his face. "Didn't expect to find you in a place like this."

"I could say the same," Rex replied, eyebrow raised. "But I do get invited to things now and then."

Leon smirked. "Is that so?"

Before either of them could say more, Leon stepped forward and pulled Rex into a brief, firm embrace—brotherly, if a little strained by time. Rex returned it with a firm clap on the back. It had been decades since they'd stood in the same room. Fifty years since Leon had vanished.

Rex had heard stories—rumors about Leon's transformation, the healing, the ascension—but seeing him now... it was something else entirely. Leon's aura didn't just shimmer with the signs of Harmonization; it pulsed with something deeper, something ancient. Rex couldn't quite place it, but he knew instinctively:

Leon was no longer just mortal.

The gap between them wasn't just one of cultivation—it was metaphysical.

Still, Rex smiled faintly. "Good to see you again, Haravok."

"I'd say the same, Pendragon."

Meri stepped in between them, raising her glass slightly. "Well, isn't this a nostalgic little gathering. Us, back together again. All that's missing is—oh, wait." Her eyes gleamed. "How's Emily?"

It was Aria who answered first, her voice even. "She's doing fine."

Of all of them, Aria was the only one who had seen Emily in recent months—though Emily hadn't known it. Aria's expression remained unreadable, her violet eyes calm as a moonlit sea.

Meri caught her gaze and offered a knowing smile, nodding in silent acknowledgment. "She should've returned by now. I figured her exile would have ended ages ago. And yet she remains on Terra." Her voice was casual, but there was a flicker of something else behind it—curiosity? Longing? Bitterness?

"Terra must be something special," she added. "To keep her there of all places."

Leon tilted his head. "Didn't know you were still keeping tabs on your ex."

Meri shrugged with a smile that said nothing and everything. "Emily's always been interesting. Complicated, yes, but worth watching. Still... it's not her that fascinates me most these days."

She took a slow sip of her drink, eyes glittering.

"It's the planet itself. Terra," Meridein said, her voice soft, but weighted with implication. "The entire galaxy is talking about it."

She swirled the contents of her champagne glass, watching the golden bubbles rise like distant stars. "If I remember correctly, it's part of your ancestral homeworld, isn't it, Leon?"

Leon gave a slow blink, then tilted his head. "Hmm. Why are we discussing some forgotten rock in the middle of nowhere?"

His eyes narrowed with casual mischief. "What I want to know is how you managed to land a whole corporation. Karajan Dynamics, huh? Has a nice ring to it. I take it 'Dafoe' didn't quite have the same flair. What happened to the family name?"

Meri offered an innocent smile, but the glint in her eyes betrayed her amusement.

"The Dafoe's are doing quite well, I assure you," she said lightly. "Though I imagine you'd rather deal with them personally, wouldn't you?"

Leon's golden irises flared with interest. The implication hung between them like a loaded card.

"I'd love a one-on-one discussion with them," he said.

"In that case," Meridein replied with silk-wrapped sharpness, "I'd be happy to facilitate a meeting. Soon."

With that, she shifted her weight gracefully, giving Rex a parting nod. "It was a pleasure, Leon. And you as well, Rex."

She turned to Aria and Eleanor, offering them a courteous smile before gliding back into the crowd. As she passed through, she was greeted with admiration and reverence. Executives bowed their heads. Military officers raised their glasses. Meridien Karajan wore power like a second skin.

Leon and Rex both watched her go.

"She's as shrewd as ever," Leon murmured.

"I don't trust her," Aria said immediately, her voice quiet but firm.

Leon smirked. "Is that so, cousin? You seers always did have sharp instincts."

He said it with a knowing look—because Meridien's eyes held something more than charm or cunning. Her gaze had always carried a strange depth, as if reading a thousand shifting threads of possibility. He knew about the gift she tried to keep secret—the eye of judgement—a mysterious ability that bordered on premonition, enhancing both her mystic aptitude and her meteoric rise in the Federation.

"She's not who she used to be," Rex added, voice low. "Meridien isn't the girl we knew from the Academy."

"Neither are we," Leon replied simply, his tone devoid of judgment.

"I suppose that's true," Rex admitted, glancing down at his drink, then to the ballroom beyond. His time embedded with Sector Zero had cost him much. He wasn't a spy by nature—but he had become one out of necessity, for a cause greater than himself.

He turned back to Leon, the flicker of something more serious passing through his expression.

"I heard you were contacted by the Ebony Zone," Rex said. "Are you really going there?"

"Yes," Leon answered. The word was clean, clipped, and final. He offered no elaboration, though both of them understood that the Yaeger Corps—or the Hunting Dogs, as they were known in the shadows—had undoubtedly kept tabs on Delacroix since the message had leaked.

Rex hesitated, then asked, "Would it be alright if I came with you?"

Leon glanced at him, then nodded. "I don't see why not."

He finished his drink with one smooth motion, eyes scanning the dance floor—elegant bodies spinning to orchestral rhythms under the radiance of crystal chandeliers. Then, his gaze settled on Eleanor.

A small, private smile tugged at his lips.

"My lady," he said with a bow and extended hand, "would you honor me with a dance?"

"My lord…" Eleanor started, but Leon had already taken her hand, sweeping her into the dance before she could finish. They vanished into the glowing expanse of the floor, the hem of her coat flowing like starlight in his arms.

Rex and Aria were left behind, the music pressing in like a warm tide.

"It's been a while," Rex said, turning to her. "You could've told me you were back in the Pleiades Sector."

"I didn't exactly get the chance," Aria replied. "Vuelo brought me here."

"The Grand Matron," Rex said with a slow nod.

"Yes," Aria confirmed, her gaze distant for a moment.

"Have you found him?" Rex asked, voice low.

Aria's expression faltered slightly. "I'm sorry, Rex. I still can't find that damn devil—Balial."

It had been fifty years since that day. Fifty years since Balial tore into the material realm, leaving chaos in his wake. Fifty years since Rex last fought the Herald and failed to destroy him. Since then, he and Aria had been hunting shadows.

"It's alright," Rex said, though his jaw tightened. Killing Balial remained one of his deepest vows—but for now, his mind was consumed by something more immediate.

The trial.

His father.

Aria, ever attuned, watched him carefully. She had known Rex since childhood. They had grown up like siblings—until something deeper, something unspoken, had quietly blossomed between them. Yet they'd never crossed that line. Not because they didn't feel it. But because they did. Aria already knew Rex's reasons—her Seer's Sight had shown her long ago. But her own reasons… were far more complicated.

"Tell me, Aria," Rex said suddenly. "This trial… my father's trial... Have you—no, never mind. You've done enough. I just—"

"I haven't seen anything yet," Aria interrupted gently.

She didn't mention the erratic nature of her recent visions, the way Fate itself had begun to spiral around Leon and his encounter with Delacroix. Her Sight had become unpredictable, like trying to read stars through a broken telescope. She knew it had something to do with her aunt's disappearance. And she knew Leon's visit would be a turning point.

But the trial? It remained veiled to her.

"You'll have to trust in the justice system of the Federation," she said softly.

Rex gave a bitter laugh. "That's exactly what I'm afraid of."