After a month — Mid Sector 99.

On the third floor of a grand palace, its balcony yawned open as though one of the very walls of the mansion had been torn away and discarded, Aro and his wife sat together in heavy silence. The open space let the wind sweep through, carrying with it the scents of moss, water, and flowering vines.

Flora absentmindedly nibbled on a bowl of snacks while her eyes wandered outward, drinking deeply from the planet's natural beauty. The palace itself had been raised on the edge of a hidden paradise, one that looked as though it had been stolen from the dreams of the gods — a glistening waterfall thundered down at its heart, mist curling like silver smoke, while lush emerald banks stretched outward in every direction. In such a scene, rainbows never seemed to fade from the horizon, and the atmosphere itself seemed forever colored with cheer, untouched by grief or shadow.

Aro, however, was still. His back rested against the cushioned chair, his broad shoulders relaxed, but his eyes remained firmly closed.

Only after several long minutes did he open them.

"That son of a bitch did it…" he muttered, his voice low yet sharp, like a blade drawn halfway from its sheath.

"Hmm?" Flora turned quickly toward him at the sound of his tone. Her brows arched with curiosity. "Who are you talking about? Did a message just arrive?"

"Yes," Aro answered flatly, then leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Do you remember the woman — the Nine-Tailed who appeared at the coronation? Caesar has subdued her. And not in the usual way, not as some subordinate queen or a mere vassal ruler… no, he has absorbed her entire empire into his own. Just like that, he has leapt ahead of me once more in total planet count."

He rose to his feet, the flowing folds of his loose, comfortable robes swaying with his measured steps as he began pacing toward the balcony's edge. His tone grew quieter, almost as if he was speaking to himself. "I wonder how he pulled it off."

"She's… on our side now?" Flora's lips parted in astonishment before curving into a radiant smile. "Wasn't she a Nexus State? And a strong one at that, if I recall correctly? That's… incredible!"

"Incredible, indeed," Aro admitted, his sigh both impressed and troubled. "She is the very first Nexus State to join willingly with out attacking or pressing her first. And her strength isn't theoretical — it's been proven on the battlefield more than once. Do you know what she did only a month or two ago? She tore the head clean off another Nexus State and walked away with barely a scratch to show for it." He shook his head, then ran a hand across his face. "Oh… it seems it's time I stepped up my game before I fall too far behind."

"With her standing beside him, Caesar will no longer be shackled by the Planetary Emperors' Pack. That old alliance that has been hounding him, they will crumble before her claws. Using her as the spearhead of his forces, he can expand at a rate that defies precedent, like wildfire raging across dry fields." Aro's expression darkened, then shifted into a slow, thoughtful smile as he rubbed his chin. "Of course… that is assuming he can even survive the wave of attacks brewing against him as we speak."

"A wave of attacks?" Flora tilted her head gently, confusion flickering in her bright eyes. "Wouldn't her presence at his side deter any assault? Who would dare to challenge him now?"

"On the contrary," Aro replied, his voice dropping to a grave timbre. "Because of her, the assault will begin. Mark my words — a devastating offensive is being prepared, one that will engulf an entire starfield in chaos." His eyes glittered with cold amusement as he continued. "They will seize upon the excuse that Renara and her empire have become a demonic force, an abomination too dangerous to be allowed to grow."

"...Under that banner of 'righteousness,' they will launch their strike upon the Cradle Empire, claiming fear of its rapid expansion. Their aim will be simple: destroy both powers in one swift blow and divide the spoils among themselves. The Nine Paths' treasury is too tempting, it draws greed like blood draws predators, and the Cradle's weapons are so hated they inspire vengeance wherever they are spoken of. This, Flora… this is their perfect chance for them to take everything."

"That's… awful." Flora's hand rose instinctively to cover her lips, horror softening her features.

"Not as awful as you think," Aro waved his hand dismissively, as if brushing away an insignificant detail. "The true Beginning Empire can no longer be destroyed. That much is certain. Plus, I would wager that even now, as we sit here, planetary weapons, Energy Pearls, and entire fleets are already pouring from the Nine Paths' treasury into Caesar's hands. The coming war will not be some minor clash of armies — no, it will be a legendary battle. A war etched into history, one that will either end with an entire starfield kneeling in subjugation… or with Caesar and his men forced into joining us here."

A smirk tugged at his lips, one almost playful in its cruelty. "And frankly, I wouldn't mind if Renara herself is cast aside in the conflict, exiled as part of the war's losses… and sent to us. Heh."

"Why?" Flora asked softly, tilting her head with genuine innocence. "She is already on our side, isn't she? We could summon her to help us whenever we please. She is a Transformed like us, not a human. Shouldn't she remain here, with us, permanently?"

"That's just wishful thinking," Aro replied, shaking his head. "Perhaps before His Grace announced his promotion to Mid Sector 99, I might have dared to petition Caesar for temporary use of her strength. But now?" He chuckled bitterly. "Now he will surely refuse. He will hide behind the excuse of the great war that looms only a few years away. His hands and teeth are already busy tearing at every world he can reach, desperate to widen his lead, desperate to prove to his father that he did not err in choosing me. That son of a bitch wants nothing more than to eclipse me."

He stepped forward and tapped the balcony's stone rail with his knuckles, the sound sharp in the quiet air. "And as for her being a mutant? He won't see that. He'll strengthen her bloodline instead, find ways to deepen her bloodline, to sharpen her claws. Perhaps… if the First and Third Armies ever march as one in some great crusade, she might be wrested from his grip and come to stand beside us. But as things are now? Caesar will never give her up. Never. That son of a bitch is far too clever to share such a weapon with anyone."

"Would you stop cursing him already? Do you have the faintest idea what might happen if His Grace overheard you?" Flora's voice carried a sharp edge of worry as she flicked a piece of snack toward Aro's back, the crumb bouncing off his loose robe before tumbling to the floor.

"Hm? And why should I?" Aro bent down lazily, plucked the fallen piece from the tiles, and ate it without hesitation. "It's not as if he's Lady Mila's son. Haven't you heard the story of his first encounter with His Grace? I'm not insulting him at all—I'm just stating a fact. He is a son of a bitch."

"Ugh! Just stop already, what is wrong with you today?!" Flora huffed and flung two more pieces at him, her cheeks puffed with frustration. "He never opposed us taking the imperial guards in the first place! And let's not forget—wasn't it him who sent that special gift to aid us? His Highness Caesar thinks of nothing but the Empire's best interests. I honestly believe we ought to find a proper way to thank him. If words like yours ever slipped through and reached his ears, do you realize the disaster that would cause?"

"All right, all right—you're right." Aro chuckled softly, his laughter rolling like a quiet drum, then turned his gaze outward. For a long few seconds he allowed his eyes to drink in the breathtaking panorama before them—the glittering sky, the endless greenery, and the cascade of the waterfall below. "…Still, we must accelerate our pace. Time isn't on our side."

"Even faster than this?!" Flora's tone rose in disbelief. She carefully set the dish aside, rose to her feet, and paced toward him with deliberate steps, her long dress brushing against the balcony floor. "I understand that you feel trapped in a race against time… or rather, a race against Caesar himself. But must you burn yourself out like this? Can't you ease the tempo, even a little? The imperial guards won't simply obey your command on a whim."

...Her words carried a heavy truth. Only a few decades earlier, His Grace had orchestrated the integration of the legendary Black Wasps into the Grave Empire.

The event had not been a quiet affair. Aro had orchestrated a grand, almost mythic ceremony—summoning every neighboring power, every influential leader, and even delegations from across the stars' media networks, ensuring the moment would be carved into history forever.

And the reaction? Mid Sector 99 had erupted in sheer chaos, its people swept by waves of astonishment, fear, and feverish gossip.

Never before had the nine hundred Black Wasps stood united in one place. Their arrival on that night was like the descent of a storm.

They filled the central plaza in immaculate formation, row after row of towering figures clad in their infamous dark armor, standing perfectly still, their silence louder than thunder. They looked less like men and more like monoliths carved from night itself. Even the Planetary Emperors who attended, those Nexus States who had swallowed their dignity to be present, felt their bodies quake. Their veins boiled with humiliation, their pride scorched under the suffocating weight of that sight.

The reputation of the Black Wasps was not built on rumor—it was carved into the bones of the sector. They were the unchallenged embodiment of violence and precision. To even imagine these men were impostors was laughable, impossible.

Every scarred face, every notorious figure once printed on wanted posters across the sector now stood here in the flesh, their presence undeniable.

And yet, who would dare to step forward? Who would be the fool brave—or foolish—enough to try and apprehend even one of them?

It was whispered, as legend more than fact, that only three of these assassins had once toyed with the Emperor of the Ancestral Blood Multiple Planetary Empire, driving him to a madness. Three of them—just three!

That night, after the announcement thundered across the hall and settled into the bones of all who witnessed it, none of the guests closed their eyes to sleep. Fear, envy, and awe gnawed at their hearts. And from that night onward, Aro had kept his promise to His Grace. Without loosing a single arrow, without raising a single blade, he had subdued powers, broken their resistance, and bent the star field's will.

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