My Infinite System.

The hangar bay was a cavern of noise and stale recycled air, a stark contrast to the organic quiet of the Drifting Leaf. The scent of engine fuel and ozone burned the throat. The Star-Jumper sat in its designated berth, a scarred and weathered vessel that looked more like a forgotten tool than a legendary ship.

Team Zero moved through the organized chaos with practiced ease, a tight formation with Lira and Midas sheltered in the middle. They were almost there.

Then, the space between them and their ship's ramp was filled.

Three figures stood waiting. They weren't dockworkers or security. They wore severe, high-collared grey uniforms, devoid of insignia except for a small, tasteful pin on their lapels: the interconnected rings of the Galactic Guild. The man at the front had a carefully neutral face and the calm posture of a lifelong bureaucrat. The two flanking him had the alert, still stance of professional bodyguards.

Reia stopped first, her eyes instantly calculating threats and angles. "Move," she said, her voice flat.

The lead man offered a thin, diplomatic smile. "My name is Assessor Valen. We represent the Galactic Guild. We've been sent to extend an invitation."

Lucian didn't break stride. He walked right past them as if they were part of the scenery, heading for the ramp. "Not interested."

Valen's smile tightened, but held. "Mr. Valtair, please. The opportunity we're offering is… considerable. A seat on the Advisory Council. Resources beyond measure. The authority to shape law across multiple sectors. All we ask is that you and your… team… place your remarkable talents in the service of galactic order."

Silas, who had been nervously looking back and forth, piped up. "A council seat? That sounds kinda—"

"It sounds like a leash," Lucian cut in, not even turning around as he reached the foot of the ramp. He finally glanced back, his expression bored. "We don't work for anyone. The answer is no. Now, you're in our way."

Valen's composure began to crack. The refusal was one thing, the utter disregard was another. "You're making a significant error. The Guild maintains stability. Operating outside our framework makes you a destabilizing element. A problem. It would be far more beneficial for everyone if you were inside, helping to guide that stability."

Reia, who had been silently running a background check on Valen's official credentials, smirked. "He means they're scared. They saw what Marc did. They don't know how to control us, so they want to put us in a nice, comfortable box with a title on the door."

"It's not about control," Valen insisted, a note of desperation seeping into his polished tone. "It's about cooperation! You have a responsibility to use your power for the greater good!"

Lucian had heard enough. He turned slowly to face the Assessor fully. The ambient noise of the hangar seemed to fade, the space around them growing cold.

"Let me be very clear," Lucian said, his voice low and dangerously calm. "We didn't ask for this power. We don't want your title. We don't care about your stability." He took a single step forward, and the two bodyguards instinctively shifted their weight, their hands drifting toward concealed weapons.

Lucian's eyes flicked to them, then back to Valen. "You keep talking about the 'greater good'. My only concern is my team. My family. You are currently between me and them, and you are wasting my time."

He took another step, now standing directly in front of Valen. He wasn't a large man, not like Marc, but in that moment, he seemed to loom.

"This is your only warning," Lucian whispered, the words meant for Valen alone. "If you or any other Guild representative tries to block our path again, if you so much as run a background scan on us, I won't consider it a diplomatic incident."

He leaned in, his gaze locked on Valen's. "I will consider it a declaration of war. And I will personally come for you. Do you understand the difference?"

Valen's face was ashen. The polished diplomat was gone, replaced by a man realizing he was not negotiating with a reluctant asset, but threatening a predator in its den. He could only manage a stiff, terrified nod.

Without another word, Lucian turned and walked up the ramp into the Star-Jumper. The rest of the team followed, Marc pausing at the top to give the Guild trio a long, silent look that promised unimaginable violence before disappearing inside.

The ramp hissed shut.

Assessor Valen stood frozen for a long moment, his heart hammering against his ribs. He finally let out a shaky breath and turned to his guards. "Report… report back to the sector command. Code… Code Omega. And mark this file: Non-engagement. Absolute non-engagement."

Inside the ship, as the engines began to whine to life, Silas let out a low whistle. "A declaration of war? Lucian, that was kinda… intense."

Lucian slid into the pilot's seat, his hands moving over the controls. "They don't understand polite. They only understand force." He glanced back at Reia. "How long until the Guild tries again?"

Reia was already interfaced with the ship's systems. "Based on their bureaucratic inertia and the level of fear you just instilled? Six standard months. Minimum."

"Good. That's all we need." Lucian punched the ignition. "Next stop, Earth. Let's go home."

The Star-Jumper lifted off, its thrusters scattering the Guild representatives like leaves in a gale. They had come to recruit hunters and found, to their terror, that they were the ones being hunted.

Elsewhere

Alistair watched his daughter. A proud, tired smile touched his eyes.

"You've gotten strong, Lucy. Truly. You've mastered what it means to be an Athel from the inside out."

He stepped closer, his gaze intense but kind.

"But there's a final step. It's about our very nature. We Athels... we blend in. We look like the people around us. This form," he said, gesturing to his own human-looking body, "is a habit. A comfortable skin from living among humans for so long. But it's not what we really are."

He saw the understanding dawn in her eyes. "You've already felt it, haven't you? A flicker. When you fought that overgrown lizard calling itself a dragon king. That surge of power... that wasn't just you getting angry. That was a part of you waking up. Your true self, starting to break through."

Lucy stood straight, her hands clenched at her sides. The memory of that fight, of the raw, unfamiliar power coursing through her, was vivid and sharp.

"Now," Alistair said, his voice dropping to a low, earnest tone. "I'm going to teach you how to let it out. All of it. No more hiding. No more pretending. Are you ready for that?"

Lucy met his gaze, her own eyes blazing with a fire he remembered from when she was just a stubborn kid. This was different, though. This was certainty.

"I'm ready."