Ursus Capital — Chernobog.
Brilliant sunlight poured down from the sky, dispelling the lingering chill from the land.
On this day, countless people from across Terra—representatives of various nations and factions—flooded into the city. Among them were civilians, merchants, officials, and even Infected.
People of every background converged on a single city for one shared purpose: to attend the coronation ceremony of Talulah, the woman who would soon ascend the throne as the new Emperor of Ursus—a ceremony that, to a certain extent, would determine the empire's future.
As the crowds continued to swell, this already vital capital city grew even livelier. The streets were packed shoulder to shoulder, to the point that congestion was unavoidable.
Journalists and envoys from every faction pushed toward the open plaza in front of the imperial palace—the area with the clearest view of the coronation platform—each striving to secure the best possible position.
The coronation and ascension ceremony was scheduled for noon, when the sun reached its zenith. There were still about two hours to go, yet those who arrived early would rather endure the crowd than leave their spots. The Reunion members tasked with maintaining order were already running themselves ragged.
Behind the Scenes
While the front plaza buzzed with excitement, the atmosphere behind the scenes was no less intense.
Deep within the palace, inside a dressing chamber, dozens of attendants hurried back and forth—some carrying garments, others holding the scepter, cosmetics, or ornamental accessories—doing everything they could to ensure that Talulah would appear in her most flawless state.
Off to the side, An Xora, now dressed in formal attire, yawned lazily. Beside him stood Mebius, Jibril, the Doctor, FrostNova, and others.
As key figures in the newly formed Ursus regime, An Xora, Mebius, the Doctor, and FrostNova were all required to attend the coronation, which was why they were present here.
Strictly speaking, this ceremony wasn't particularly troublesome.
Given the current state of Ursus, Talulah's coronation was little more than a formality. Even without it, her authority already surpassed that of the former Emperor.
After all, even at the height of his power, Emperor Fyodor had never fully controlled all the empire's major army groups—whereas Talulah already did, coronation or not.
Symbolism outweighed substance here.
In theory, all Talulah needed to do was don the ceremonial robes, take up the crown and scepter, step onto the platform, and deliver her speech.
Yet because Talulah had never worn such intricate and restrictive attire before, what should have taken two hours to prepare dragged on for nearly four.
Fortunately, An Xora and the others had arrived midway through the process. Had they been present from the beginning, the ordeal would have been unbearable.
The Empress Appears
Finally, thirty minutes before the ceremony was set to begin, the dressing room doors opened.
Talulah emerged in a majestic and resplendent coronation gown, scepter in hand. Between her two upward-curving dragon horns, set atop her white hair, rested the imperial crown—an unmistakable symbol of sovereignty.
Beneath the gown, her long, slender legs were straight and powerful, smooth and pale. Her feet were encased in black high heels with gold trim, the low-cut design revealing a glimpse of her delicate instep. Each step across the palace floor produced a crisp, rhythmic click.
An air of pride, authority, elegance, and nobility radiated from her.
After being meticulously styled by the palace's professional attendants and makeup artists, Talulah looked almost like a completely different person. One glance was enough to make people feel the presence of a true empress.
Professionals really were professionals.
This version of Talulah was something even FrostNova—who had followed her for years—had likely never seen before.
The Talulah of the past was a valiant warrior, bold and unyielding.
The Talulah of now carried the unmistakable aura of someone who wielded supreme authority—someone whose words alone could decide life or death.
A Moment of Self-Consciousness
After leaving the dressing room, Talulah brought An Xora and the others into a quiet chamber and dismissed the attendants.
She had intended to rehearse her speech once more, but after noticing An Xora and FrostNova repeatedly glancing at her, she grew increasingly self-conscious.
"…Is there something strange about how I look right now?"
"There's nothing strange," An Xora replied. "It's just that you're very different from before, so we couldn't help but look a little longer."
"I think you look great," FrostNova added. "It feels… refreshing. Like you've completely transformed."
"Is the change really that obvious?"
Talulah adjusted the crown atop her head, correcting its position with a puzzled expression.
To her, all she had done was change clothes, learn some court etiquette, and pay more attention to her posture. She couldn't understand how that translated into looking like an entirely different person in their eyes.
Seeing their reactions, she even began to wonder what kind of image she had given them before.
On that front, An Xora had a very clear opinion.
Previously, Talulah had carried almost no feminine aura at all—she felt like a reliable brother-in-arms.
Now, with her attire and bearing transformed, that impression had shifted from "brother" to "brother… why do you suddenly seem so attractive?"
To put it bluntly:
This Talulah had the same presence as the 'Black Serpent' version—dangerous, commanding, and irresistibly compelling.
The kind of presence that made one's loyalty waver without even realizing it.
Before the Curtain Rises
"Alright, enough distractions," An Xora said. "Fifteen minutes left. Go over the speech one last time, then it'll be time to make your entrance."
"Understood."
Talulah nodded and used the remaining time to rehearse her speech several more times. Soon after, everyone in the room rose together and headed outside.
Despite the fact that she was about to appear before the eyes of countless nations and factions, Talulah felt no nervousness at all.
Because An Xora had already told her:
This coronation wasn't truly important.
It was merely a formal announcement of what had already become reality.
The real spectacle—the one meant to shake all of Terra—would be the military parade that followed: a blatant display of overwhelming force.
If anyone should be nervous, it wasn't her.
It was the observers who had come to gauge Ursus's new ruler.
An Xora had said as much, and Talulah trusted him completely.
Since An Xora told her there was no need to be nervous, then there truly was no need.
All she had to do… was follow his lead.
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