The members of the Inner Circle remained in the Hydra's Lair Palace for several more days.
More high-ranking members had arrived, and strategic discussions were still underway, especially concerning operations beyond the Mist. Tuf would not be accompanying them immediately to the main Hydra headquarters in the human kingdoms, located in Pyrrathis, the most powerful and "advanced" of the six human kingdoms. Advanced by human standards, at least. By Velrathis standards, Pyrrathis was still a thousand years behind.
Tuf had other priorities.
He would remain in Aquilonis for a few more months, observing the newly emerged Master of the Holy Beast, Seiryu. His mission: to discover this man's motives, to assess the threat he posed, and to determine whether his presence would disrupt Hydra's plans in any way.
The Palace had been abuzz with activity, something that rarely occurred, even in decades. Strategy meetings like this were uncommon. Normally, Tuf operated in shadows. He would send discreet messages to each Marshall, arrange clandestine rendezvous in the undercity of Duskborn, or sometimes rely solely on cryptic orders that Hydra's operatives deciphered and executed without question.
But now, the stakes were too high.
And with the introduction of the Deepcall, secure communication had become even more seamless. Tuf had distributed it personally to the Marshalls and instructed them to pass it only to their most trusted agents.
While the rest of Hydra moved with urgency, Luna remained detached from the chaos.
She spent most of her time secluded in their private bedchamber, rarely seen except by Tuf and Comet. Her body was still healing, aching in every inch from the venom Tuf had poured into her veins. The sting never fully faded, especially not when he continued to make love to her every night. And each time, he added another bite. Another mark.
He was savoring every remaining moment with her before he crossed the Blinding Mist.
Meanwhile, the young leaders of the High Council, now new Inner Circle members, had become extremely cautious in Hydra's halls. Especially in Tuf's presence.
No one wanted to end up like Varis.
The demon had died that night, screaming in silence, suspended in time with regret in his still-conscious mind. And now, with a deeper understanding of Hydra's purpose, they realized he had died for nothing more than an outburst.
The Demon Lord Caelum had no plans to take down the Blinding Mist. He wouldn't risk the safety of the demi-human race that had chosen peace. But for those bold enough to reclaim what was stolen by humans, Hydra was the blade Caelum wouldn't wield himself, but wouldn't stop either.
To the outside world, it may seem that the Demon Lord and his son were at odds.
But Hydra knew the truth.
Caelum was protecting the ones who wished to live quietly. And Tuf was leading the ones who refused to be quiet any longer.
Luna sat curled on a deep velvet chair in the palace library, a book in hand, dark hair cascading over her shoulder like midnight ink. Comet stood nearby, respectfully quiet as he reported current operations, while also serving her the black coffee she liked precisely the way she liked it, boiling hot, bitter, and unsweetened.
His hands didn't shake, but his posture was always rigid around her. Always reverent.
Comet had once been her personal aide, much like his twin Cosmo had served Alpha. But when Luna had chosen to follow their father into isolation at the Spire, she had dismissed him, kindly, but firmly.
Still, it had broken him.
For centuries he had believed she no longer needed him. That he had become obsolete.
But he was wrong.
Because only he knew the real truth. A truth not even the other Marshalls knew.
Luna was not just a co-founder of Hydra.
She was its architect.
The one who whispered it into existence.
Long before Tuf gave it a name, before the Marshalls formed its spine and bloodied their hands for its cause, it was Luna who asked her brother to build her a secret society. Not to wage war. Not to reclaim land.
But to see.
To watch. To gather eyes and ears beyond the Mist.
She never explained why. Never told him what she intended to use that intelligence for. All she had said was: "I need them. Build me something that can reach where I cannot go."
And Tuf obeyed.
Not for politics. Not for conquest.
But because his Luna had asked.
And so Hydra was born.
Not out of revolution. Not out of vengeance.
But out of love. Dark, maddening, obsessive love.
Luna did not immediately bring Comet into Hydra.
No. She made him wait.
She instructed him to prepare, to stay ready, to sharpen his skill in silence, and to follow her future commands without question.
And when the Inner Circle was finally established, when positions were earned through blood, grit, and merit, that was when Luna placed Comet within the highest ranks. Alongside five other fledglings.
At first, the Marshalls raged.
They had risked their lives for their seats, spilled blood, buried names, betrayed bloodlines, and here she was, handing titles to fresh recruits like sweets at a banquet.
So they retaliated.
They made the new marshalls suffer.
They played every dirty trick in the book, brutal assignments, isolation, sabotage. All done in secret. All without Tuf or Luna's knowledge… or so they believed.
But among the six new recruits, only one thrived.
Comet.
While the others flailed, bled, and eventually failed, Comet delivered exemplary results. Quietly. Relentlessly.
And when the other five made grave mistakes, Tuf ended them.
Not mercifully.
He ended them slowly.
So the rest could watch.
So they would understand.
Only then did the Marshalls realize,
The seat they thought was a reward was actually a trap.
A punishment in silk's disguise.
When Luna offered a position, it wasn't always a blessing.
Sometimes it was her way of sending a message she was too lazy to deliver herself.
And so the pattern continued.
For four centuries, Luna offered Inner Circle seats to many. And none, save for Comet, remained in them.
"Someone wants to speak with me," Luna said without looking up from her book. "Let her in. Then leave us."
Comet nodded silently, opening the grand library doors.
Naelira stepped in.
She didn't look like the graceful aide she once was. Not anymore. Her posture was tense, her expression unreadable, but the pain was still there, visible in the stiffness of her movements.
Comet shut the doors behind her without a word.
Luna didn't bother to acknowledge her. She simply turned a page, sipping her coffee, as though the woman standing before her wasn't even worth a glance, let alone a chair.
She no longer hid her disdain.
And Naelira no longer pretended to be cordial either.
Still, she remained respectful, especially in Luna's presence.
Because Luna was not just her rival.
She was a daughter of the Demon Lord.
And the most dangerous woman in the empire.
"I want to accompany Master Tuf to Aquilonis," Naelira said.
Luna didn't flinch. Didn't lift her eyes. "I thought I already told you, do what you want, elf. Why are you telling me this?"
Naelira faltered, and that, that tiny pause, was what finally made Luna raise her gaze.
A slow, mocking smile curved on her lips as she looked Naelira up and down.
"Let me guess," Luna said, her voice laced with amusement. "You already told my brother that you want to go with him. And he declined."
Her smile widened, cutting deep. "And now you come to me, hoping I'll convince him to let you stay at his side. Is that it?"
Naelira's throat bobbed, but she held her ground.
"The Master will be staying alone in that kingdom," she said. "Without an aide. He needs me."
Luna laughed.
Not softly.
Not kindly.
But with full-bodied amusement.
"He needs you?" she repeated, as if the very words were absurd.
Her golden-black eyes sharpened. "Five centuries by his side, and you didn't even know Hydra existed. And now you stand there and claim he needs you?"
She gently closed the book in her lap and placed it on the table beside her with deliberate grace, finally giving Naelira her full attention.
"You know what?" Luna leaned back, eyes glittering. "I didn't realize how funny you are. Do you know you're the only one who's managed to make me laugh like this?"
Her smile turned razor sharp.
"I never had the chance to ask you, what do you think about what you've learned of Hydra?"
Naelira lifted her chin with dignity. "I understand Master Tuf's decision. And it didn't break my soul, despite what you predicted. When I learned about the elves and faes being sent to humans, I accepted it. They're doing it for a cause. And I support that."
Luna's expression didn't waver, but her gaze became colder. She slowly stood, because she refused to look up at someone like Naelira.
"Did you know…" she began, her voice lowering, "that he changed the plan because of you?"
Naelira blinked, clearly taken off guard.
"The original plan," Luna continued, "was always to send the elves and faes. But midway through, without telling me, he changed it. He changed it to demons, night dwellers, shape-shifters."
She began to walk toward the open window, her tone turning contemplative, but no less sharp.
"Elves and faes aren't the only ones who can procreate with humans, the other races can, too. Demons can, but only with Pyrrathians. Night Dwellers with Noctharies. Shapeshifters with Zephyries. Dwarves with Gaianthians. It's limited, but possible."
She gazed out at the horizon.
"He made that change for you," she said, her voice soft and bitter. "Because to him, you were one of his people. Someone worth protecting. He remembered the pain your kind endured. The chains. The camps. The cages. Your family."
Luna turned back to Naelira, eyes blazing.
"We were there when we stormed the slave camps. He was the one who carried Rhaevenor's wife from the rubble. He saw her broken body. Heard her screams. And so… he changed a four-hundred-year plan."
Her voice cracked slightly.
"All to protect your feelings."
Naelira's heart stuttered in her chest. A strange warmth bloomed within her, hope, pride, something dangerously close to joy. Tuf had thought of her. Protected her.
But Luna wasn't finished.
Her expression shifted, grief bleeding into something colder. Deadlier.
"And so I told him…" she whispered, "'If you think protecting that elf and her kind matters more than everything we've worked for, then so be it. If you no longer want to be the villain… I will.'"
A single tear slipped down her cheek.
Naelira saw it.
And instead of sympathy, she felt pride.
But then Luna smiled, a slow, terrifying smirk.
And the warmth in Naelira's chest turned to ice.
"That's how the plan went back to the original version," Luna said, voice eerily light. "That's how 'protecting your feelings' became irrelevant. All because of one tear."
She laughed. Louder this time. And darker.
"Did it make you happy?" Luna asked mockingly. "That brief moment when you thought you mattered more? Awww… Now I feel bad for bursting your little delusional bubble."
Her eyes glinted dangerously. "But don't just blame me."
She stepped forward, each movement slow and deliberate.
"Blame yourself too."
Naelira's breath caught in her throat.
"If you hadn't forgotten your place," Luna said quietly, almost tenderly, "if you hadn't dared to step out of line… I might have let you be."
She leaned in closer, her voice sinking into a deadly whisper.
"But now? Now, I'll make sure your entire race pays for your delusion."
Naelira's eyes widened, heart pounding. "What…?"
"That," Luna said, her tone syrupy and sharp, "was what I asked from Tofu."
Her smile widened, slow and sinister.
"You remember asking me what I requested from him, don't you?"
She didn't wait for a response.
"I asked him to make sure your kind, your precious elves and faes, would be delivered straight into the hands of the humans you loathe the most."
Luna leaned in so close, Naelira could feel the warmth of her breath against her skin.
"But this time," she whispered, "they won't be dragged in chains. This time… they'll walk into it."
She pulled back, her golden-black eyes gleaming with vicious satisfaction.
"They'll believe they're heroes… that they're doing it for a greater cause. That's the real punishment, you see. When slavery wears the mask of sacrifice. And all of this is happening because of you. Because you don't know your place."
Luna tilted her head, feigning thoughtfulness.
"And you know what?" Her tone turned suddenly sweet. "You do have a special place in his life."
Naelira blinked, uncertain.
"You're the woman who makes the other women disappear."
That hit.
Luna's expression shifted, mock pity crossing her face as she slowly walked a circle around Naelira.
"What do you say to them?" she asked, voice light. "To the ones who forget their place? The ones who think they're special?"
She put on a mocking tone, imitating her.
"'Special? You think you're special just because he gave you a few crumbs of attention? You think you matter? That you're the only one? You're just another warm body. One of many. One he'll discard the moment he's bored of you. You're nothing but another name he won't even remember.'"
Luna's voice dropped.
"'Stop dreaming while you're awake. You'll only hurt yourself.'"
Then she smiled again, this time sharper than any blade.
"Are those the words you used?" Luna asked softly. "Well, elf… maybe it's time you took your own advice."
Her voice was silk wrapped around venom.
"Wake up. Stop dreaming. Because believe me, this will hurt."
Luna turned, returning to her velvet sofa with the same grace as a queen dismissing a fool. She picked up her book, settled in, and flipped to where she left off.
"You can go now," she said coldly, eyes already scanning the page. "You're wasting my time."
Naelira stood there, fists clenched, heart pounding with impotent rage. She wanted to scream, to strike, to do something, but she couldn't. Not here. Not in front of her.
"Oh—" Luna said suddenly, as if remembering a trivial detail.
She looked up with another sweet, mocking smile.
"While you're still here, expect that I'll call for you sometimes. Just in case I need a laugh. You're quite the entertainer."
With a lazy wave of her hand, she dismissed her like a bothersome servant.
Fury boiling beneath her skin, Naelira turned and walked out of the library, fists trembling at her sides.
Only to pause at the door, because standing there, waiting, was Comet.
He said nothing.
Just stepped aside and closed the door silently once she'd passed through.
She stormed down the corridor, seething.
Hating her.
Hating Luna with every breath in her lungs, with every beat of her traitorous heart.
She hadn't known she was capable of feeling this much loathing for anyone.
And yet…
She didn't know.
Didn't know that Luna's words, those vicious truths meant to cut deep, were built on a carefully crafted lie.
Because the real reason, the only reason, that the elves and faes were being sent…
Was for a cause even Naelira couldn't imagine.
To help fill the Crystal Cylinder again.
To save their father from his thousand years of sorrow.
Only Luna and Tuf knew the truth.
But Luna? She would weaponize anything to break someone she disliked.
And this time, everything had simply aligned in her favor.
And so she used it.
Just like always.