The heavy oak doors at the far end of the banquet hall did not open cleanly. They burst inward with a violent, splintering crack that echoed like a cannon shot over the dwindling murmurs of the remaining guests.
Neo's eyes snapped open. The exhaustion in his bones evaporated, replaced instantly by the cold, sharp spike of adrenaline.
A lone figure staggered into the light of the floating crystals.
It was a senior knight of the Draven house. His heavy plate armor was dented and scorched black. A deep, jagged gash tore across his cheek, spilling fresh blood down his jawline and onto the pristine white marble floor. He moved with the erratic, dragging steps of a man running purely on borrowed time.
"Your Grace!" the knight roared. The sound tore through his throat, raw and panicked.
Cassian, who had been conversing quietly with Lord Valerius near the main pillars, vanished.
The air cracked. The Duke reappeared a fraction of a second later, standing directly in front of the bleeding soldier. Cassian's Sovereign-rank aura detonated outward. The sheer, unadulterated pressure of his presence warped the air, causing the nearby ice crystals to groan and fracture under the atmospheric weight.
"Report," Cassian commanded. His voice was a low, guttural vibration that rattled the floorboards.
The knight collapsed to one knee, clutching his side.
"My Lord. The western wing. The nursery."
The man gasped, fighting to pull air into his lungs.
"The anti-scrying wards were bypassed from within. Shadow-mages. They struck from the blind spots. Four of our inner guard are dead."
Across the hall, the crystal wine glass in Sylvia's hand shattered. The shards rained down, ringing sharply against the stone.
Neo shoved himself off the sofa. He reached down, grabbing Nora's shoulder and shaking her firmly. She woke instantly. There was no grogginess, no confusion. Her violet eyes snapped open, immediately registering the violent shift in the room's gravity.
"The twins?" Cassian asked. The words lacked any trace of humanity. They sounded like stone grinding against bone.
The knight bowed his head, his blood pooling on the marble.
"They are gone, Your Grace. Lord Caelum and Lady Lyra... they have been taken."
The silence that descended upon the ballroom was absolute. It was heavier than any magical pressure. It was the silence of a vacuum preceding a catastrophic explosion.
Sylvia let out a shattered, hollow scream. She dropped to her knees amidst the broken glass, her hands clutching her head. Elara moved instantly, dropping beside her best friend and wrapping her arms around Sylvia to hold her together.
Cassian did not scream. He did not move. But the marble floor beneath his boots began to crack, a spiderweb of fissures spreading outward from his heels. The killing intent radiating from the Duke was so dense it became a physical hazard, suffocating the remaining nobles who scrambled blindly toward the exits.
Neo stood perfectly still in the alcove.
His eight-year-old siblings. The brother who possessed a laugh that could carry across the courtyard. The sister who practiced manipulating water droplets just to make him smile.
Taken.
The Emperor had not been deterred by the political theater of the engagement. Valerian had used the massive distraction of the ceremony, the influx of foreign bodies and chaotic auras, to strike directly at the heart of the Draven bloodline.
Neo closed his eyes.
He didn't feel the familiar, rising tide of panic. He didn't feel the desperate urge to hide or play the innocent child.
He opened his eyes.
Nora stood beside him. She didn't ask what had happened. She looked at his face, saw the dead, hollow calm in his blue eyes, and her own expression hardened into a mask of pure, absolute violence.
The air above her palm rippled. A single, glowing petal of crystallized, blood-red mana manifested in the dark. It hummed with a sound like a sharpening blade.
Neo stepped out of the alcove. He walked across the ruined ballroom floor, his boots crunching over shattered ice and broken glass. He stopped a few paces behind Cassian.
"Dad," Neo said.
He didn't shout. He didn't raise his voice. But the flat, terrifying calm in his tone cut through the chaotic pressure of the room. The bleeding knight flinched.
Cassian slowly turned his head. The Duke's silver eyes were completely black, consumed by rage.
"Lock down the territory," Neo stated. His voice was entirely devoid of any childlike inflection. It was a tactical command issued by a veteran of survival.
"Drop the outer gates. Raise the siege wards. Nobody leaves. Nobody enters."
Cassian stared at his son. For a fraction of a second, the berserker rage in the Duke's eyes flickered, recognizing the cold, predatory logic staring back at him. Cassian gave a single, rigid nod.
Neo reached out his left hand.
Nora stepped forward, her dark violet dress sliding over the marble. She slipped her cold fingers into his, her grip locking into place like a vice. The red petal hovering above her palm duplicated, splitting into five, then ten, forming a slow, rotating halo of lethal force around her shoulders.
Neo looked toward the shattered doors leading to the interior of the estate.
"We are going to hunt them down."