Valeria was on the fourth floor of the Red Zone's main building a structure that belonged to her.
She reviewed paperwork with restrained efficiency, approving or denying requests while analyzing financial reports. Two young women assisted her in silence, organizing documents and recording notes.
She worked with discipline, though her focus was not absolute.
Every so often, her thoughts drifted back to what had happened a month and a half ago.
The appearance of the two Sovereigns.
She remembered the immense dragon suspended above the city. Imposing. Undeniable.
But above all, she remembered the griffin.
It was not merely its size. It was its presence the way it dominated the sky effortlessly, as though space itself yielded to it. An ancient royalty. Unquestionable. A king above all kings.
The two young women behind her would also fall silent at times. They did not speak of it, yet the memory lingered between the three of them whenever it resurfaced.
The clock on the wall struck 12:30.
The chime cut cleanly through their drifting thoughts.
Almost immediately, there was a knock at the door.
"Miss, lunch is prepared," announced the butler's formal voice.
Valeria closed the notebook before her, aligned the documents with a brief, precise motion, and replied,
"I'm coming, Andrés."
The three of them put everything in order and stepped out. Andrés was waiting in the corridor and guided them to the dining room, also on the fourth floor.
Everything had been arranged with precision: plates, cutlery, and glasses perfectly aligned. They sat before the wide windows. From there, part of the Dynasty could be seen stretching beneath the midday sun. Light entered cleanly, illuminating the plants arranged throughout the room and softening the atmosphere.
Andrés, accompanied by two maids, began to serve.
"Today we have chicken breast in sauce, vegetables, and juice."
The plates were set down with practiced grace, and the attendants withdrew. Before leaving, Sebastián added,
"Miss, I will be outside should you require anything."
Valeria nodded.
"Thank you, Andrés."
She picked up her knife and fork, cut a piece, and tasted the meat.
"It's good. As always."
The two young women agreed.
Valeria exhaled, this time more heavily.
"A month and a half until the Grand Conference begins… and I cannot attend. As always."
There was no anger in her voice. Only a quiet resignation one she had long since learned to carry.
The young woman to her left set her glass down on the table.
"Only truly important figures are invited. We'll have to watch it on screen, like they always broadcast."
The other added,
"But this time they say there may be signal saturation. It will be the first time the seven Sovereigns appear together. I'm not sure we'll even be able to see it."
Valeria cut another piece of meat, this time with slightly more force than necessary.
"For thousands of years, the first four Sovereigns have not appeared. Usually, only the last three attend."
The young woman on the left lifted her gaze toward the ceiling, as if she could pierce through it and find the sky beyond the concrete.
She remembered the Fourth Sovereign atop the griffin.
She saw him rise.
Slowly at first then ascending in a way that defied all logic. The air around him trembled. Golden flares ignited in his wake, scattering like fragments of light across the firmament.
Within seconds, the figure became a distant point.
And then the thunder came.
A deep concussion that tore through the atmosphere as he departed the planet.
The memory still carried weight.
Even now.
As they spoke, the door opened again.
Andrés entered without announcing himself, something highly unusual for him. His posture remained formal, but tension had settled across his expression.
Valeria frowned.
"What has happened, Andrés?"
"I have received a letter from the Palace," he replied gravely. "I was instructed to deliver it to you immediately."
Valeria took the envelope. She opened it with precise movements and began to read. Her face turned serious at once. A second later, her expression steadied. Then, a faint smile touched her lips.
The two young women leaned toward her.
"What does it say?"
"Yes, tell us."
Valeria looked up.
"They are requesting the reports from the past few months. Effective immediately."
She leaned back in her chair, her shoulders easing.
"Fortunately, we prioritized them. Everything is ready."
One of the young women exhaled.
"That's a relief. Otherwise… I don't even want to imagine the trouble we'd be in."
Valeria finished her meal before the others. She rose with quiet resolve.
"I'll change and then head to the library."
She left swiftly.
The two young women exchanged a glance and shook their heads.
"The library. Again."
"She loves reading, especially anything related to the Sovereigns."
Their attention drifted to a side table where several newspapers lay scattered. Every headline spoke of the same subject: the appearance of two Sovereigns on the planet Caelvar. For over a month now, Valeria had been reading and rereading those editions.
One of them spoke thoughtfully.
"The Network is impressive. It's more up to date than any other organization. Even before the Fourth Sovereign appeared, they already had preliminary information."
The other nodded.
"Yes. And they discuss the event even prior to his manifestation. They claim the destruction of Tranquil Lake was connected to the Seventh Sovereign."
"I told you they were right," the first replied. "Only a Sovereign could have done that. But every time someone suggested that theory in the city, they were called mad. People said it was impossible for beings so sublime to waste their time on something like that."
Her friend let out a soft laugh.
"Well… it didn't make much sense. The smallest things they usually destroy are planets."
Far beyond them, in the depths of space, among scattered stars and silent worlds, a solitary figure drifted.
A chessboard extended before him, suspended in infinite darkness.
Daverion observed the pieces.
There was no air. No sound. Only absolute vastness and the distant burn of constellations millions of miles away.
The board rested on nothing. The pieces as well.
They remained in place because he permitted it.
His gaze moved across the arrangement with perfect calm. Each piece represented a move already executed somewhere in the universe. Each position, a consequence set into motion.
He felt the shift before confirming it.
A subtle vibration within the weave of fate. A minimal adjustment… yet undeniable.
"Ah…"
His fingers stirred.
He did not touch the piece at once. First, he calculated the possible trajectories. The chain reactions. The forces that would collide if he altered that precise point.
It seemed things had changed slightly.
"Did you not receive the invitation?"
The question was not directed at anyone present. It was an observation aimed at the balance itself.
At last, his index finger descended.
The piece advanced a single square.
The moment it moved, space around the board curved almost imperceptibly. A distant star flickered out of rhythm. An orbit corrected itself by an infinitesimal fraction.
The change was not violent.
It was inevitable.
A faint smile appeared on Daverion's lips.
Not broad. Not warm.
It was the smallest gesture of someone who had just recalculated the course of countless destinies.
The game continued.
In the fourth-floor dining room, Andrés burst in again, this time without concealing his urgency.
"Where is Miss Valeria?" he demanded, striding forward.
"She just left. What is it, Andrés?"
"I have received another letter from the Palace. But this is no ordinary letter." He swallowed. "It was sent from the Celestial Court. The Palace made it explicit. It is for Miss Valeria."
Both young women covered their mouths simultaneously.
"The Celestial Court?"
They took the envelope with extreme care, as though afraid they might damage it.
The moment they saw the seal, the air seemed to leave their lungs.
The emblem was forged from stellar gold.
Not paint. Not ink.
The material emitted its own deep, unmistakable radiance. An absurd luxury for a mere insignia. Anyone would call a person mad for using something so precious for a seal.
They had never witnessed such ostentation.
They examined the symbol closely: a triangle bearing seven eyes within it, encircled by seven beasts.
They hesitated.
They searched for the image online. Compared details. Looked back at the envelope.
It was authentic.
The emotional impact struck without warning.
First came a faint dizziness. Then pressure in the chest. Then darkness.
Both collapsed almost at the same time.
Andrés reacted immediately. He knelt beside them, checking their pulse, their breathing.
Nothing serious.
Slowly, he rose and looked at the letter.
He turned it over in his hands.
Studied the emblem once more.
The symbolic weight descended upon him with equal force.
His vision blurred.
A second later, he too lost consciousness.
Three bodies lay motionless in the fourth-floor dining room.
At the center, untouched, rested the letter.
The seven-eyed triangle watched in silence.
And the seven beasts encircling it remained still…
But present.