Epilogue 1
The sun was beginning to go down over the Ferrum Estate. For the last eighteen years, since the end of the great war against the Fire Fly Corporation and the Devil armies, this place had been the center of the world. It was rebuilt from the ashes, stronger and bigger than before. Usually, the estate was a busy place with guards, servants, and diplomats coming and going. But today, the feeling was different. The air felt heavy, like the sky before a thunderstorm.
The regular guards by the main gate were nervous. They kept checking their uniforms and standing as straight as possible. They knew who was coming. Tonight wasn't a eting for foreign kings or business partners. Tonight was for the family. And when the family in question practically ran the world, even a family dinner felt like a military operation.
The silence broke first. It wasn't a loud noise, but a low hum that vibrated in the chests of everyone standing near the entrance. A sleek, black convoy of armored vehicles appeared on the horizon. They didn't have wheels; they hovered smoothly over the road, moving fast.
The lead vehicle stopped right at the gate. The door opened with a hiss of air pressure.
Sullivan Ferrum stepped out.
At eighteen years old, he looked a lot like his father, Lloyd, but his eyes were warr, like his mother, Mina. He wore a dark grey suit that looked simple but was made of expensive, armored fabric. He didn't look like a teenager. He looked like a man who carried the weight of three kingdoms on his shoulders. He was the Crown Prince, the Heir Apparent, and the person who made sure the human and devil factions didn't start fighting again.
He didn't smile right away. He tapped a small device in his ear.
"Status report," Sullivan said. His voice was calm but firm. "I want the periter locked down. No press, no unwanted guests. If a bird flies over this wall without permission, I want to know its na."
The Captain of the Guard rushed forward and saluted. "Sir! The periter is secure. We have triple-checked the sensors."
Sullivan nodded, loosening his tie just a little bit. "Good. My father doesn't like surprises, and my mothers..." He paused and sighed. "Well, let's just say I don't want to deal with a headache tonight."
Before he could finish his thought, the temperature in the courtyard dropped. It happened instantly. One second it was a warm sumr evening, and the next, everyone could see their breath puffing out in white clouds. Frost began to creep across the tal of Sullivan’s car.
Sullivan didn't shiver. He just looked up at the sky. "She’s here."
Above the clouds, a massive shadow blocked out the twilight sun. It was a Frost-Dreadnought, a giant flying warship made of enchanted ice and steel. It hung silently in the air, a terrifying weapon of war that kept the world safe.
A beam of blue light shot down from the ship to the ground. When the light faded, a young woman was standing there.
It was Eira Ferrum.
She was seventeen, and she was the spitting image of Rosa, the Winter Queen. She wore a white naval uniform with silver dals on the chest. Her hair was pale, and her eyes were sharp. She was the Grand Admiral of the Imperial Fleet, the person who controlled the skies and the oceans.
"You're early," Eira said to her brother. She didn't hug him. Instead, she walked over and brushed a speck of dust off his shoulder. It was her way of showing affection.
"I'm on ti," Sullivan corrected her. "You parked your ship in a low orbit. Isn't that a violation of the airspace treaty we signed last week?"
Eira shrugged. "I wrote the treaty, Sullivan. I can bend the rules. Besides, Mom—Mother Rosa—would be upset if I was late. I had to speed up."
"Is the ship secure?" Sullivan asked, looking up at the floating mountain of ice.
"It’s on auto-pilot," Eira said. "If anyone tries to board it, they will be frozen solid. It’s fine."
The two oldest siblings stood together for a mont. They were the leaders of the new generation. They didn't get to be just "kids" very often. They were always working, always managing crises. But right now, standing on the driveway of their childhood ho, their shoulders relaxed just a fraction.
"Do you think they are already here?" Eira asked, looking toward the main house.
"Not yet," Sullivan checked his watch. "The twins are incoming. I can hear them."
"Hear them?" Eira frowned. "I don't hear anything."
"Wait for it," Sullivan said.
Three seconds later, a high-pitched whining sound pierced the air. It sounded like a jet engine mixed with a computer glitch. A blur of motion shot over the walls and skidded to a halt in the middle of the courtyard, kicking up gravel and dust.
It was a prototype hover-bike, but it looked like it had been built in a garage by mad scientists. Wires were hanging out, and the engine was glowing a dangerous red color.
Two people jumped off the bike before it even fully stopped.
Caelum and Luna. The Twins.
They were sixteen years old, children of Leviathan, and they were the smartest people on the planet aside from their parents. Caelum had ssy dark hair and was holding a tablet that was scrolling data so fast it looked like a blur. Luna had grease on her cheek and was wearing a tool belt that jingled as she walked.
They were arguing. Loudly.
"I told you the output was unstable!" Caelum shouted, pointing at the bike. "You routed the mana through the secondary logic gate. That caused a 0.4 second delay in the braking system. We could have crashed into the gate!"
"It wasn't the logic gate, you nerd!" Luna shouted back, wiping her hands on her pants. "It was the physical hydraulics. The tal can't handle the Soul-Circuitry update you coded this morning. Your software is too heavy for my hardware!"
"My software is perfect!" Caelum argued. "Your hardware is just obsolete!"
"Obsolete?" Luna pulled a wrench out of her belt like it was a weapon. "I built that engine from scratch this morning! It’s the fastest engine in the world!"
"Quiet!" Sullivan ordered. He used his 'Crown Prince' voice.
The twins stopped arguing and looked at their older brother. Then they looked at Eira, who was giving them a look that could freeze water.
"Hi, Sullivan. Hi, Eira," Caelum said, adjusting his glasses. "We made good ti, right?"
"You almost crashed into the family fountain," Eira said dryly. "Again."
"But we didn't," Luna pointed out with a grin. "Calculated risk. Dad would be proud."
"Dad would ask why the bike is on fire," Sullivan said, pointing to the vehicle.
Luna turned around. A small fla was sputtering from the exhaust pipe. "Oops. I’ll fix that." She grabbed a handful of sand from a decorative pot and threw it on the fire. "Fixed."
Sullivan rubbed his temples. "You two are the Directors of the Nexus. You run the global communication network and the engineering corps. Can you please try to act like it for one night?"
"We are acting like it," Caelum said, tapping his tablet. "I just optimized the estate's Wi-Fi while we were arguing. You're welco."
"And I upgraded the gate sensors," Luna added. "They scan 20% faster now."
Eira sighed, but there was a small smile on her face. "Fine. Just don't blow anything up inside the house. Mother Eun-ha will ground you, and I don't care if you are Directors."
The four of them stood in a loose circle. The serious administrator, the cold admiral, and the chaotic engineers. They were the "Active Duty" children, the ones who were old enough to hold power. They spent most of their year in different cities, running different parts of the empire their father had built.
"It feels weird," Luna said, her voice dropping a little. "Being back here. Without a crisis to solve."
"We aren't here to solve a crisis," Sullivan said softly. "We're here to have dinner. That’s harder."
"Tell about it," Caelum muttered. "I’d rather debug a corrupt server than face Mom when I haven't visited in three months."
The sun dipped lower, casting long orange rays across the estate. The gathering was growing. The heavy hitters had arrived, but the roster wasn't complete yet.
________________________________________
The chill from Eira’s arrival was still hanging in the air when the next guest arrived. The frost on the ground began to lt, not from the sun, but from a gentle, radiating heat that felt like a warm blanket wrapping around the courtyard.
The guards at the gate relaxed their shoulders. The tension that always followed the Admiral and the Crown Prince seed to evaporate.
Walking up the driveway was a boy who looked like he was made of gold.
Solus Ferrum was fifteen. He was the son of Airin, and he had inherited her Solar Core. He didn't take a car, and he didn't fly a ship. He had walked from the nearby temple, wearing simple white and gold robes. He glowed. It wasn't a blinding light, just a soft, steady luminescence that made everyone around him feel safe.
"You're lting my ice," Eira said, but her voice wasn't harsh. She stepped aside to let him join the circle.
Solus smiled. It was a smile that could stop wars. "It was getting a little cold out here, sister. I thought you might need so balance."
"You walked?" Caelum asked, looking at Solus's sandals. "That’s inefficient. I could have sent a drone to pick you up."
"Walking is good for the soul," Solus said calmly. "It gives you ti to think. Besides, the people in the village wanted to say hello."
"You're late," Sullivan noted, checking his watch again. "By three minutes."
"A priest arrives exactly when he is ant to," Solus joked softly. "And I brought gifts." He held up a basket of fresh fruit he had likely been given by the villagers.
As Solus joined the group, the dynamic shifted. The sharp edges of the older siblings softened. Solus was the High Priest of the Solar Order. He was in charge of energy sustainability for the north, making sure the "Artificial Suns" kept the crops growing during the long winters. He was powerful—he held the power of a star in his chest—but he was the gentlest of them all.
"Where is Dizzle?" Luna asked, looking around. "He's never late. He's more obsessed with ti than Zafira."
"He is coming," Solus said, nodding toward the main path. "I can feel his headache from here."
Sure enough, a carriage pulled by two horses—very traditional, very formal—rolled up the driveway. It stopped precisely at the marker. The door opened, and a boy stepped out.
Dizzle Ferrum was fourteen, the second son of Rosa. He looked younger than the others, but his eyes were old. He wore the black robes of a judge, and he was carrying a stack of scrolls that was almost as big as he was.
He stepped out of the carriage and imdiately frowned. He looked at the twins' smoking bike. He looked at Eira’s giant warship hovering overhead. He looked at Sullivan’s armored convoy blocking the path.
"This is a residential zone," Dizzle said. His voice was crisp and annoyed. "According to Article 4, Section B of the Estate Codes, unauthorized military vehicles are prohibited in the inner courtyard after 6 PM."
"Hello to you too, Dizzle," Caelum grinned. "Did you bring us a lawsuit for a present?"
"I brought the agenda for next week's council eting," Dizzle said, adjusting his grip on the scrolls. "And a citation for Luna. You parked in a fire lane."
"It's a hover-bike, Dizzle," Luna rolled her eyes. "It doesn't park. It hovers."
"It is obstructing a designated ergency exit," Dizzle countered. "Move it, or I will have it impounded."
Dizzle was the High Chief Justice. Even though he wasn't fifteen yet, his intellect was scary. He knew every law, every rule, and every loophole in the empire. He was the one who kept the bureaucracy from falling apart while his siblings were busy building machines or commanding armies. He was the "Prodigy."
Sullivan stepped in before Luna could throw a wrench at the judge. "Dizzle, leave the work in the carriage. Tonight is off the clock."
"Justice never sleeps, Sullivan," Dizzle said stiffly. But he sighed and handed the stack of scrolls to a waiting servant. "However... Mother Rosa explicitly stated that if I brought work to the dinner table, she would freeze my ink. So, I suppose I can make an exception."
Dizzle walked over to the group. He stood next to Solus, who put a hand on his shoulder. Dizzle stiffened for a second, then relaxed into the warmth.
"You look stressed, brother," Solus said.
"The southern trade disputes are a nightmare," Dizzle grumbled. "People are illogical. I prefer laws. Laws make sense."
"People are ssy," Vala (who wasn't there, but would have agreed) might have said.
Now, they were all there. The six "Active Duty" children.
Sullivan, the leader.
Eira, the warrior.
Caelum and Luna, the builders.
Solus, the heart.
Dizzle, the mind.
They stood in a circle in the courtyard of the ho where they had grown up. They were the most powerful teenagers on the planet. They commanded fleets, managed economies, and judged nations. But right now, looking at the big wooden doors of the Ferrum Estate, they all looked a little bit nervous.
"Is everyone ready?" Sullivan asked. He straightened his tie again.
"Ready as we'll ever be," Eira said, smoothing down her uniform.
"Do I have oil on my face?" Luna asked, rubbing her cheek and making it worse.
"Yes," Caelum said. "Leave it. It adds character."
"Let's go," Solus said. "The food is getting cold, and the younger ones are probably waiting for us."
The younger siblings—the ones under thirteen—were inside. They were kept away from the politics and the wars. They were just kids. The six outside were the shield that protected their childhood.
Sullivan walked to the massive double doors. He didn't need a key; the house recognized his bio-signature. He pushed the doors open.
Warm, yellow light spilled out into the twilight, along with the sll of roasting at and spices. The sound of chatter and movent drifted out. It slled like ho.
They stepped across the threshold, leaving their titles and their burdens outside in the cold. For tonight, they weren't Directors or Admirals or High Priests. They were just the Ferrum kids, coming ho for dinner.
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