Zamir didn't sleep that night.
He tried. He really did. The palace bedroom was the size of a football field. The bed could fit a theater. He had silk sheets, pillows embroidered with golden feathers, and some kind of incense machine that softly hummed in the background, releasing floral scents every few minutes.
But his brain wouldn't shut up.
His thoughts jumped from one disaster to the next.
"Fifty years."
Fifty imperial years he was gone. Fifty years the Praetoria held the line. Fifty years the Empire ran without him.
Somehow.
He turned in bed.
"No Internet. No phone. No Kasura. No G-Translate. Just psychic bird people and cosmic level consequences. I just stopped playing for 2 years"
He sat up. The moonlight from Terra's twin moons cast a soft glow through the massive glass windows.
"I can't even ask if I'm dreaming because if I am, this dream has lore patches in the real world."
His clawed hands rubbed his face.
He stood, pulled on his regal outer robe, and wandered through the private hallways until he reached the high balcony.
The city lights of Holy Terra glittered below. Spires of gold, lights, floating platforms moving silently between towers. It looked peaceful. Silent. Impossibly advanced.
And fake.
Not fake as in not real. But fake as in... this wasn't his. Not really. He just played a game. He made all this by clicking buttons and watching numbers go up.
Now it was real. Now it had rules. People.
Politics.
A soft knock interrupted his brooding.
It was Virelth.
Zamir almost jumped.
"Sorry! Didn't mean to interrupt. I was told you were... awake."
She stood in a simple dress robe, far less formal than earlier, but still elegant. Her feathers shimmered slightly in the moonlight.
"Can—can I join you?"
He hesitated, then nodded. "Sure."
She stepped out onto the balcony and stood beside him in silence for a while.
"You used to come out here a lot," she said finally.
"Did I?"
"When things were heavy on your mind. Before major campaigns. Before the First Reformation."
in reality he was just using his phone while his in-game avatar just stood idly back in the day.
Zamir blinked. "Right. That."
Virelth turned slightly toward him. "You... seem different."
His heart skipped.
She wasn't accusing. She wasn't angry. She just... noticed.
He had to think fast. "Fifty years changes a man."
almost got busted
She smiled faintly. "Yes. And we've all tried to keep things from falling apart. But there are cracks."
She paused, then sighed.
"Some of the laws you passed... the ones the Parliament enforced... they were not all received well."
Zamir swallowed. "Which ones?"
She stared at him, almost searching. "The Trade Silence Act. The Vassal Territory Lockdown. The Divine Tithe Increase. The Ministry of Genetic Compliance."
He nearly choked. "That last one sounds illegal."
Virelth raised an eyebrow. "You passed it."
"I passed a lot of things. I was—" He stopped himself. "I trusted your judgment."
I just clicked on the U.I back then because it looks cool
That line worked. She looked touched.
"Still, the galaxy is shifting. While we sat behind our gates, the rest of the stars kept moving."
"You mean... the Empire's kind of stuck."
"Not just stuck. Surrounded. The Vassals whisper of change. Some governors are aging out. The Parliament grows restless."
"And I came back at the perfect time, huh?"
"If you hadn't, perhaps the Empire would be gone within another decade."
Zamir felt like throwing up.
But he nodded. "Then I'll do what I can."
Virelth smiled again. "That's all anyone can ask."
She bowed slightly and left.
Zamir leaned on the balcony rail.
He muttered to himself. "Okay. No pressure. Just rebuild an empire I made up while eating noodles."
The next day came far too fast.
He was in the Throne Room again. Tim was giving another dramatic retelling to a group of visiting ministers.
Zamir half-listened until he caught a phrase:
"—and thus, His Radiance's silence decreed the embargo shall never lift."
Zamir nearly stood up. "What embargo?"
Tim turned, face glowing with pride. "The silence of the Sovereign confirmed our path, Your Grace. Parliament had doubts, but your return reaffirmed the Eternal Isolation Doctrine."
"I never said that!"
Tim blinked. "You looked at the map."
"I was looking for the bathroom."
Tim tilted his head. "So wise."
Zamir gave up.
After the ministers left, he was alone with Phex, the Minister of Coin.
The bird-man leaned in. "Your Grace, our economy is... held together by divine fear."
"That sounds bad."
"It is." Phex spread his wings slightly. "Imports are nonexistent. We self-sustain. Barely. If the Holy Sector suffers drought or disaster..."
Zamir pinched the bridge of his beak. "We need trade."
"Yes, but Parliament will scream."
"Let them."
Zamir stared at the holographic map again.
He spoke without thinking. "Prepare scouts. I want to know what the galaxy is like now."
Phex went still. "That order will reach the Outer Houses. The Vassals."
"Good. Let them know I'm back."
He didn't say it confidently.
But it didn't have to sound confident.
Because by the next day, Tim was already on galactic news declaring:
"The Sovereign Opens His Eyes. The Stars Shall Be Measured."
Zamir watched it over breakfast.
He covered his face.
"I don't understand anything anymore."
And yet... a small part of him did.
It was just enough to be terrifying.