Chapter 130

  Julia stared out the window, her reflection a ghost against the sprawling metal landscape of The Nexus.

  The diplomatic quarter spread below in neat sections. Towers rose like fingers reaching toward the station’s curved ceiling, their surfaces polished to mirror-brightness. Between them, elevated walkways threaded through the air in complex patterns, carrying aliens of every conceivable species about their business. Lights glowed from thousands of windows, each one representing someone’s home, someone’s office, someone’s life lived entirely within this manufactured world.

  In the distance, the Galactic Council dome dominated the skyline. Massive and imposing, a perfect hemisphere of programmable matter that could shift from transparency to opacity at the Council’s whim. Right now it glowed faintly, with some internal meeting in progress. The structure dwarfed everything around it, a statement of power that needed no words.

  But even that grandeur couldn’t escape the fundamental truth of The Nexus. Metal everywhere. Bulkheads and support beams and infrastructure crisscrossing the view like veins through flesh. A jungle of steel and alloy and composite materials, beautiful in its complexity but ugly in its uniformity.

  She missed the sky. Real sky. Earth’s sky with its blue that changed shades throughout the day, clouds that formed and dissolved in patterns you could never predict. Stars you could actually see at night without a viewport between you and them.

  Her thoughts drifted to Alexander. Again. They always seemed to circle back to him lately, working through the same impossible loop.

  He’d told her the truth. The real truth, the one that made her head spin when she tried to hold onto it for too long. He was from another timeline or reality. The Alexander she’d known, the one she’d loved, was dead. This Alexander had never known her before, and yet he remembered it as if he had. Everything she remembered, every moment they’d shared, he hadn’t really been a part of.

  She’d been going through this mental circle for a day now. Trying to process what it meant. Struggling with the impossibility of it. Her mind kept trying to make sense of it, failing, starting over from the beginning.

  But then she’d remember something that made her smile despite the confusion. His teasing humor, still there when she least expected it. The dry observation that caught her off guard and made her laugh before she could help it. The intensity of his focus when he was working on something, the way the rest of the world just ceased to exist.

  His honesty. He never lied to her, even when it would have been so much easier. The way he was quietly patient, letting her work through things at her own pace without pushing.

  She’d noticed he’d changed from how she remembered him. Before he told her the truth, she’d thought it was his experiences. Becoming a supervillain, the trauma of everything he’d been through.

  Now she understood why. He literally was different, with a different life and from a different universe.

  But then again, he was still so… Alex. She could see it in the way he treated those he cared about, the way he thought, the core of who he was beneath everything else. She could see how the Alexander she’d known and loved could become this Alexander.

  Like looking at a river from downstream and recognizing the waterfall that fed it.

  That was where the confusion came from. Being honest with herself, she still felt strongly toward him. Her heart and her emotions didn’t care about the differences. They cared about the fundamental similarities, the things that made him him regardless of timeline or origin or any of it.

  Only her mind cared about what she’d learned. She didn’t know how to reconcile the two.

  She felt like she should be grieving. That was the appropriate response. To grieve for the loss of the person she’d known. But it was so hard when he was just there. On the other side of the station. Alive and breathing and talking to her and looking at her in that way that made her heart race.

  He was the same, different, impossible person.

  The door opened behind her.

  Julia turned, pulled from her thoughts. The office came into focus as if she was seeing it for the first time, though she’d been sitting here for several minutes already.

  Marcus’s office was exactly what she’d expected from a Councilor. Expensive furniture, everything positioned with deliberate care to project authority. A long desk dominated the space, its surface clear except for a sleek datapad and what looked like an actual paper notebook. Behind the desk, the wall held a collection of framed photographs. Marcus with various Earth politicians, their faces familiar from news broadcasts. Marcus with alien Councilors. The collection was professional and curated. No family photos anywhere she could see. No personal touches beyond a plant in the corner that looked well-maintained but somehow still perfunctory.

  The room was a stage, and Marcus knew exactly what image he wanted to project.

  Maximilian sat to her left, closer to Marcus’s desk. He looked perfectly at ease, one ankle crossed over the other, posture relaxed but attentive. This was his element. Dealing with politicians and navigating social dynamics, reading the room and everyone in it. He’d been born into wealth and power and trained for these kinds of meetings from childhood.

  Then again, Maximilian always seemed in his element.

  Hjordis sat beside him, and she looked about as comfortable as a caged wolf. Her large frame made the chair seem too small, and she’d positioned herself with her back to the wall, instinctively choosing the defensive angle. Her red braid hung over one shoulder, fingers drumming against her thigh, going still, then repeating. Patience wasn’t her strength, but she was managing.

  Marcus stood behind his desk in a crisp tailored suit that probably cost more than most people earned in a month. Charcoal grey, fitted, with a subtle sheen to the fabric that caught light when he moved. His dark hair was styled, and his expression held that particular neutrality politicians cultivated. Pleasant without being warm. Attentive without revealing anything.

  He looked every inch the Councilor, despite having held the position for less than a day.

  Guang entered with the confident stride of someone used to command. He wore his standard combat gear, practical and unadorned, a stark contrast to Marcus’s formality. He swept the room once, cataloging positions and exits with a trained eye, before he crossed to the empty chair beside Hjordis.

  He settled into it and turned his attention to Marcus.

  “Congratulations on your promotion, Councilor,” Guang said. His tone was respectful but without deference. “Humanity’s representation has been strengthened considerably with our acceptance as a council species.”

  Marcus nodded. “Thank you, Guang. Though I suspect the real test is yet to come.”

  He gestured toward the chairs, though they were already seated. “I appreciate you all making time for this meeting. I know you’ve been dealing with the gateway situation, and your efforts haven’t gone unnoticed.”

  Guang leaned forward. “The Galactic Council has been pleased with the progress?”

  “Very much so.” Marcus’s expression remained neutral. “All three invasion points secured thanks to your efforts. One through peaceful negotiation, one claimed and soon to be relocated. The third will be dealt with shortly and is well defended in the meantime. The Council sees this as proof that superhumans can be effective when properly coordinated.”

  Julia caught the emphasis on ‘properly coordinated.’ It felt intentional, like he was building toward something.

  “The battle,” Marcus continued, looking at Maximilian. “What was your assessment of the cultivator’s strength?”

  Maximilian answered. “Peak Tier 2, possibly early Tier 3. He used qi techniques we hadn’t encountered before, but...” He paused. “What stood out most was how experienced a fighter he was. If we’d gone in with any fewer, we wouldn’t have returned.”

  “And yet you prevailed.”

  “We did.” Julia’s voice was soft. “Not without cost, though. Maximilian was carved open. Hjordis concussed. Alexander lost an arm. He might not have made it if not for the healer.”

  Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  Marcus made a note on his datapad. “The Syltharian. I understand his power is quite valuable.”

  Something in the way he said it made Julia’s instincts prickle. Like a question wrapped in a statement, probing for information without asking directly.

  “He’s a member of Grimnir,” she said, her voice cutting through the pleasantries. “Which you already know, since your intelligence network warned them about his detention.”

  Marcus’s eyes shifted to her. Something flickered in his expression before smoothing away. “Yes. An unfortunate incident. I’m glad it was resolved without further complication.”

  “Thanks to Talia,” Julia said.

  “Indeed.” Marcus set down his datapad. “Which brings me to another point. The gateway you claimed. What do you plan to do with it?”

  “Hjordis claimed it,” Maximilian said, glancing at the woman. “We’ve agreed to equal access whenever she’s selected a location for it, but we’ll assist with security in return.”

  Marcus nodded. “That seems reasonable.”

  The conversation continued in that vein for several more minutes. Surface-level discussion. Questions Marcus almost certainly already knew the answers to from official reports.

  Julia found her attention drifting back to the window, to the metal jungle beyond. This felt like theater. Marcus was checking boxes before getting to whatever he actually wanted.

  “Councilor.” Hjordis’s voice cut through Marcus’s next question about protocols. “All of this is in our reports. You’ve read them. I know you’ve read them, because your people sent follow-up questions three hours after we submitted.”

  Marcus’s expression didn’t change. “I prefer to hear assessments directly when possible. Reports can miss context.”

  “Reports also don’t waste people’s time.” Hjordis leaned forward, elbows on her knees. “So let’s skip the dance. What do you actually want?”

  Maximilian shot her a look but didn’t intervene. He’d known this was coming. Hjordis had no patience for political maneuvering, and everyone in the room knew it.

  Marcus was quiet for a moment. Then he leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled in front of him. The pleasant politician’s mask didn’t crack, but something shifted in his eyes. Calculation.

  “You’re right,” he said. “I apologize for the inefficiency.”

  He paused, gaze sweeping across all four of them before settling somewhere in the middle distance.

  “I want your assessment of Grimnir.”

  The room went still.

  Marcus continued, his tone carefully neutral. “Specifically, I want your assessment of their leader.”

  Maximilian didn’t react visibly, but Julia knew him well enough to catch the slight shift in his tone. “Why?”

  “Earth’s position on the Galactic Council is delicate. We’re new, and dealing with a reality-altering System that terrifies half the species here and intrigues the other half. Our superhuman community is fractured at best, actively hostile at worst.”

  He paused.

  “In that environment, I need to understand the pieces on the board. Grimnir has made considerable waves in a very short time. They have repeatedly attacked one of the strongest powers on Earth. Rescued trafficked aliens. Shown that we can secure gateways. Developed relationships with groups like The Royals and, apparently, with established hero teams like the Throne of Scales.”

  His gaze moved to Maximilian.

  “And they’re labeled supervillains. Which means officially, Earth’s government considers them criminals. But unofficially...” He spread his hands. “The situation is more complex.”

  “You want to know if they’re assets or threats,” Guang said quietly.

  “I want to know if they’re reliable.”

  “That’s not what you want. You want to know if you can use them, if they will… color within the lines you set.” Maximilian shook his head. “They won’t. He won’t. That’s why he’s the Machine God, one of the Eight.”

  Marcus raised a questioning eyebrow.

  “Grimnir will be one of the powers that rise when you fucking cowards flee Earth,” Maximilian spat, his controlled mask cracking for a moment.

  Marcus’s face settled into neutrality. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Maximilian. But I do not appreciate the tone.”

  Julia laughed. “You must think we’re all stupid or blind. The UEG has been evacuating people for years under the guise of migrating people to support the colony worlds.”

  “The colony world migratory initiative is a genuine—”

  “Cut the crap, Marcus.” Hjordis leaned back and crossed her arms. “We’re all playing pretend until shit hits the fan, but let’s not act like we haven’t already chosen sides.”

  “I see,” Marcus said, studying each of their faces in turn. “I already knew where the Throne of Scales stood, but I wasn’t aware that the Northern Shield had come to a decision. Do you speak for your guild leader, Hjordis?”

  She scoffed. “Of course I speak for my little brother.”

  “Then I suppose you intend to claim the title of Eternal Flame?” Marcus asked, watching her intently.

  “Nope,” Hjordis said with a shrug. “No idea who that’ll be. I’m a warrior, not a leader.”

  Marcus nodded, then turned to Guang. “What about the Golden Lotus?”

  Guang glanced at the others before shaking his head. “The Golden Lotus does not hold such… strong opinions.”

  Julia couldn’t blame Guang for his guild’s stance. Like Hjordis, he wasn’t a guild leader, merely the leader of a team, but it still annoyed her. Everyone in the room knew the prophecy, knew that something bad was going to happen to their homeworld. And soon.

  She just couldn’t understand how anyone could know that and choose to do nothing. Or rather, choose to leave the planet, which was somehow worse.

  Marcus was quiet for a moment. When he spoke again, his tone had shifted. Less of a politician, more of a person.

  “Your support was essential in swaying the Council’s vote,” he said. “Humanity has representation on the Galactic Council because of what you accomplished here. The UEG will honor its agreement. The resources and support promised to your guilds will be provided.”

  Maximilian’s jaw tightened, but he gave a small nod.

  Marcus stood and moved to the window, hands clasped behind his back. He stared out at the metal landscape, at the Council dome glowing in the distance.

  Everyone else waited.

  “The UEG isn’t monolithic,” Marcus said finally, voice quiet. “There are factions. Disagreements about how to handle what’s coming. Some believe evacuation is humanity’s only chance at survival. That Earth is our egg basket.”

  He paused, still looking out at the station.

  “Others think we should be preparing to fight. I’m tasked with ensuring humanity survives the galactic politics of whatever happens to us.” He turned back to face them. “Which means I need to know who I can rely on when official channels prove insufficient.”

  Julia studied his face, trying to read whether this was calculated vulnerability or a genuine admission. She couldn’t tell. Maybe it was both.

  “Which brings me back to Grimnir,” Marcus said, returning to his desk. “Specifically, to Alexander Rooke. I need your assessment.”

  Maximilian leaned back in his chair, some of the earlier tension bleeding from his shoulders. When he spoke, his voice was measured again.

  “Alexander is tactical. He thinks several moves ahead, considers angles most people miss. During our first encounter, he reacted quickly to our powers and got his team out despite them being significantly weaker and exhausted at the time. In our second fight, he maneuvered us into a position where we couldn’t wield our full strength without significant collateral damage.”

  Maximilian paused. “And during the gateway assault, he showed an impressive ability to learn and advance the understanding of his own powers even while in combat.”

  He met Marcus’s eyes.

  “My assessment is that he is both unpredictable and reliable, and that he is a supervillain by every measure but neither villainous nor cruel. Everything he does has a purpose, even when it looks reckless.”

  Marcus nodded slowly, absorbing that. “And his team?”

  “Competent and well-coordinated. However, both the intelligence and analysis that our guild has put together on Grimnir is ours. I will not share it with you.”

  “Fair enough. What about you, Hjordis? What’s your take?”

  “Solid,” Hjordis said, her tone matter-of-fact. “Put his life on the line and fought to the end. I’d fight with him at my back again.”

  “And?”

  She shrugged, done elaborating.

  Marcus’s attention shifted to Julia. “Julia? I understand you two have history.”

  Julia turned from the window where her gaze had drifted again. She chose her words carefully.

  “Ambitious and intelligent.” She paused, remembering Alexander losing an arm, only to bind it with metal, electrocute himself, and rejoin the fight. “He’s someone who will not give up, no matter the circumstances.”

  She met Marcus’s eyes.

  “But if you’re asking whether he can be trusted to do what he says, yes. If you’re asking whether he’ll do what you want...” She let the sentence hang. “That depends on whether your goals align with his.”

  Marcus made a note on his datapad.

  He turned to Guang.

  Guang inclined his head. “I only met him briefly before the gateway assault, but I left to return to my duties before the actual engagement. I can offer little other than to say that the man has an… intensity to him.”

  “Thank you,” Marcus said. “Now, I think that is all. Other than keeping an eye on the gateways, your time is now your own. Once reinforcements arrive, you will be free to return to Earth as planned. If you need anything between now and then, please contact my chief of staff.”

  He stood, indicating that the meeting was over.

  Julia rose with the others. Hjordis was already moving toward the door, clearly eager to leave. Guang stood, nodding to Marcus before following.

  Maximilian hesitated for a moment, then he too headed for the exit.

  Julia was the last to leave. She glanced back through the doorway and found Marcus at his window again, looking out at the same view she’d been lost in earlier.

  She didn’t trust his interest in Alexander. Politicians always had angles, always had plans within plans.

  The real question, though, was whether Alexander would even care. She smiled to herself at that thought, realizing she was worrying about nothing.

  Most people would give a limb to have the ear of a Galactic Councilor. Alexander would probably give up another limb to make him shut up.

  She turned and walked away, the door sliding shut behind her with a soft hiss.

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