Oliver Hyperion, the third son of Capitano Hyperion—the younger brother of the patriarch of the Hyperion family—and one of the favorites to become the future patriarch as well as the ruler of the Empire, stood facing our protagonist.
The two locked eyes with terrifying coldness and intensity.
Amid this oppressive tension, Oliver was the first to take a step forward.
— So you're still just as impassive… You really haven't changed in three years. What a shame.
Noa remained completely calm in the face of his words. His facial expression stayed unchanged, as neutral as ever.
— I'll take that as a compliment, but
At that moment, with a simple flick of his hand, our protagonist unleashed a cutting strike. His elder dodged it with his eyes closed, tilting his head slightly.
The tree behind him was cleanly sliced and collapsed with a dull crash.
Noa's gaze only grew more serious.
— And that's for the lightning from earlier.
Oliver raised his hands while keeping his sarcastic smile.
— Easy… I didn't come here to fight, you know.
Even as he said that, the electricity crackling around his hands seemed to say otherwise.
— And what guarantees that you didn't come for that ?
Simon's voice, seated on the lawn, slipped into the exchange between the two rivals.
This did not bother Oliver in the slightest, who wore a twisted smile.
— Hey, Simon… it's been a while. You haven't seen me for three years, but I see that's made you forget who I am. If I had come for that, I'd already have acted.
Simon added nothing, while Oliver finally lowered his hands.
— No. In truth, it's the patriarch who sent me to fetch you and bring you back to the capital. Nothing more.
Noa frowned, turned around, then headed toward Ethan. Oliver did the same, moving toward the exit.
— When you arrive in the capital, don't forget to say hello to Yuna for me.
At those words, Noa stopped abruptly.
His eyes widened, shining with a brilliant blue, stirred by cold fury.
He then hurled his final words at his elder, accompanied by a murderous glare.
— Such a loud mouth… for the shame of the family.
Oliver's body crackled with energy for a fraction of a second as he slowly turned back toward Noa.
His piercing yellow eyes gleamed like those of a predator ready to strike.
— What did you say ?
At those words, their chaotic energy surged under the effect of their emotions, filling the room with yellow and blue.
Neither one gained the upper hand.
Simon rubbed his eyes with a sigh.
— This is going to end badly…
But before the situation could escalate further, a voice abruptly cut through the tension.
— What are you doing…
The auras of the two rivals instantly dissipated as they turned toward the tree at the center of the greenhouse, utterly surprised.
— Uncle Charles…
Perched on a branch, a man with disheveled hair, dark circles under his eyes, an imposing build, and numerous tattoos on his left arm observed them with a tired look.
Charles Hyperion.
— What were the two of you about to do ?
Noa and Oliver remained silent, unable to answer.
Charles then turned his gaze toward the two bodyguards on his left.
— And you, you're supposed to be watching over Noa. What the hell are you doing over there… ?
Simon and Ethan did not even have the courage to reply.
Charles yawned at length.
— Alright, get lost. I don't want to see you for the moment.
And you, Noa, you should already be getting ready, shouldn't you? Doesn't it bother you to keep Yuna and Karea waiting? You're really incorrigible…
Noa looked away, while Oliver continued to stare at his uncle.
— Tell me, Uncle… since when have you been here ?
The question was asked bluntly.
— I didn't sense any presence until the moment you spoke. Since when were you here ?
Charles rubbed his eyes, visibly exhausted.
— That's absolutely none of your business. And as far as I know, I have no obligation to answer that question—especially coming from you.
Noa approached Ethan, took the small puppy onto his lap, then placed it on his head.
The animal, still asleep, settled there perfectly.
As he walked away, painful memories came crashing back into Oliver's mind.
Flashback
A completely white room.
Oliver was sitting on the floor, panting, drenched in sweat.
His hand rested on his abdomen, opened by a deep gash from which blood flowed abundantly.
His gaze lifted to the person in front of him, who was holding a sword pointed in his direction.
A young Noa Hyperion stood facing him, just as lost as he was.
Neither of them understood what had just happened.
End of flashback
Oliver snapped out of his thoughts and ground his teeth, forcing a smile to mask the immense rage he felt toward the one who had almost destroyed his life.
He left the room without a backward glance.
Simon and Ethan, still somewhat shaken, followed their master.
Charles slowly closed his eyes, sinking back into a half-sleep.
— That boy really does resemble you… little brother.
But who said it was over?
Somewhere on the northern continents, a frozen, almost apocalyptic landscape stretched as far as the eye could see.
The cold was so intense that it froze all existing forms of life.
Violent winds sliced through the air, shattering even the most solid rocks.
On the horizon, dozens of tornadoes devoured everything in their path.
Absolute chaos.
At the center of this hell stood an immense metal tower, as wide as an entire kingdom, so tall that it pierced the sky.
Despite the catastrophic climate, it stood firm, like an unshakable monument.
Inside, in what appeared to be a throne room, numerous silhouettes stood silently in the shadows of the pillars.
One of them stepped forward toward the man seated on the throne.
— Your Majesty… I regret to inform you that our informant has lost track of the princess. It's as if she has vanished.
On the throne sat a weakened man with graying hair.
Behind him, tubes resembling organic cables emerged from the metal walls and plunged into his back, injecting a glowing blood-red substance.
His breathing was shallow and irregular.
Above him beat a gigantic heart, pulsing in rhythm with the liquid flowing through the tubes, as if it were replacing his own life force.
— So… why are you still standing before me ?
You should already be out looking for her."
A silhouette stepped out of the shadows, the pale light reflecting off his glasses.
— If you allow me, I would like to go look for her myself. After all…
Four metallic tentacles burst from his back as he observed his hand.
— It's not every day that one encounters a half-angel…
Another figure stepped forward, his theatrical voice resonating directly in everyone's mind.
— Clearly, your equipment seems to have a very different use planned for this princess, my dear."
A hooded silhouette knelt before the king.
A faint breeze lifted the hood, revealing a stitched smile and sharp teeth like those of a shark—an abomination.
— Let me bring you back Princess Atela, Your Highness.
I swear to return her safe and sound… and above all alive, unlike my comrade."
Suddenly, the king straightened violently, a hand to his mouth as he spat blood.
— Damnation… I don't have much time left. I entrust you with finding the princess… but you will not go alone.
At that moment, the gigantic door behind them opened.
An icy gust flooded the hall, ice crystals growing along the walls.
Heavy footsteps echoed through the thick mist.
A man clad in a black hood appeared.
Only two blue eyes shone in the darkness, radiating an overwhelming presence.
The hooded figure turned toward him.
— What a pleasure to see you again… Psaimone.