Time/Date: TC1853.01.20 – Early Evening

Location: Imperial Palace, Inner Sanctum → Throne Room (sealed)

The aeroskiff sliced through the evening air with the sort of silence that came before explosions.

Darian’s hands rested flat against his knees—not clenched, not fidgeting. Just still. The stillness of a general who’d made terrible decisions and would make worse ones before this night ended. Beside him, Patriarch Lin sat rigid as carved stone, probably calculating exactly how catastrophically his family’s eight-hundred-year secret had just been compromised.

Neither spoke.

The pilot—one of Darian’s most trusted veterans—kept his eyes forward and his mouth shut. Some conversations weren’t meant for witnesses.

Below them, the First District glowed like scattered stars. White jade towers caught the last rays of sunset and transformed them into something almost divine. Ancient power wrapped in architectural beauty, reminding everyone who approached exactly whose domain they were entering.

The aeroskiff descended toward the private platform reserved for emergencies. Guards stood at attention, faces professionally blank in that way that meant they’d been briefed on absolute discretion. No records. No witnesses. No official log of tonight’s visitors.

Darian stepped out first. Military bearing automatic despite the storm churning in his chest. Patriarch Lin followed with the careful dignity of someone who knew the next few hours might determine his clan’s survival.

A palace steward materialized from the shadows—elderly, sharp-eyed, carrying secrets that could topple dynasties.

"Lord Darian. Patriarch Lin." The bow revealed nothing. "His Imperial Majesty awaits in the Throne Room. He has... sealed the chamber."

Cold slid down Darian’s spine.

The Throne Room was sealed for exactly three reasons: declaring war, pronouncing execution, or negotiating terms so sensitive that even imperial guards couldn’t be trusted to overhear.

They followed the steward through corridors that grew progressively more opulent and increasingly empty. Servants cleared from this wing. Guards stationed at distant checkpoints rather than their usual posts. Every detail screamed of a meeting that officially wasn’t happening.

The massive doors stood closed, their surface carved with dragons and phoenixes that seemed to writhe in flickering torchlight. Ancient formations glowed faintly along the frame—privacy wards that could block even celestial-level perception.

The steward touched a crystal embedded in the doorframe. The wards pulsed once, recognizing authorization, then the doors swung open with silent grace that belied their massive weight.

"Enter," Emperor Tianrong Xuán’s voice carried from within. "Alone."

The steward withdrew. Darian and Patriarch Lin stepped across the threshold into a room that had witnessed over a thousand years of imperial decisions.

The doors closed behind them with soft finality.

Sealed wards activated with a sound like crystal singing—high, pure, absolute. No one would hear what was said within these walls tonight.

Emperor Tianrong stood before the Dragon Throne—not sitting in it, Darian noted. Standing. Which meant this wasn’t an official decree. This was something else. Something more dangerous.

At one hundred fifty-six, the Emperor possessed that timeless bearing celestial bloodlines granted. Midnight-black hair showed only subtle silver at the temples. Those golden eyes—famous for missing nothing—fixed on them with uncomfortable intensity. Simple dark silk tonight, no ceremonial regalia, which somehow made him look more formidable.

"Your Imperial Majesty." Darian bowed with military precision. Respect without servility.

Patriarch Lin’s bow went deeper, more deferential. The old healer understood hierarchy and consequences in ways that came from eight centuries of family politics.

"Gentlemen." Tianrong’s voice carried that dangerous quiet that made seasoned generals nervous. "Lord Darian. You invoked Code Red protocols. Forced me to seal the Throne Room. And from what I’ve heard, even compelled Patriarch Lin to attend under threat."

He let the words settle like stones dropping into still water.

"This had better be catastrophic."

Darian met those ancient eyes without flinching. "Your Imperial Majesty, I just returned from the Metropolitan Police Station. Certain intel has come to light that’s detrimental to the Empire, the Xuán family itself, as well as the Long and Lin Clans."

He paused, letting the weight sink in.

"Disclosure of this sensitive information would usher in a Crimson Reckoning at minimum—even leading to a full-blown blood war, similar to the one that wiped out hundreds of celestial families over a thousand years ago."

The temperature in the throne room dropped. Patriarch Lin’s already pale face went ashen.

Emperor Tianrong’s expression didn’t change, but something flickered in those eyes. Calculation. Assessment. Recognition that what came next would determine more than just individual fates.

"Is this regarding your lost daughter?"

The question was delivered with imperial precision—acknowledging information while revealing how much the Emperor already knew.

Patriarch Lin jerked slightly, turning to glare at Darian with poorly concealed shock. Internally, the old healer reeled—how surprising that Darian Long had an illegitimate daughter. At this time, he had no concept of the baby swap conspiracy about to unfold.

"In a way, yes." Darian’s voice remained level despite the personal nature of what he was revealing. "But it’s more about Selene Lin, and her failed bloodrite, which is why I’ve brought Patriarch Lin. What I’m about to reveal involves the Lin family directly."

Patriarch Lin straightened despite his shock. "The girl who drugged you and Caelia—she’s still alive? How?" Confusion and worry warred across his weathered features. "Didn’t both our clans arrange a bloodhunt for her?"

He paused, trying to process connections that didn’t make sense. He couldn’t understand what Selene Lin had to do with anything—she’d never even had access to the internal workings of the Lin clan.

"There’s also an issue about that." Darian’s tone carried grim satisfaction. "The Longs have already called off the bloodhunt. After you hear what I have to say, you’ll also have to rescind that order."

Emperor Tianrong’s patience visibly frayed. His eyes flashed with irritation—the sort that made lesser nobles stumble over their words in panic.

"Lord Darian. Enough dancing around the point. Get on with it."

Absolute command. Imperial authority wrapped in barely controlled fury.

Darian took a breath. This was it. The moment everything changed.

"The evidence points to Caelia knowingly plagiarizing Selene’s alchemy from childhood. Even her potions submitted to Empire First Academy were stolen work."

"What—" Patriarch Lin interrupted, sputtering. "Impossible! I remember that girl, Selene. Beautiful, yes, but meretricious—"

Darian smiled bitterly. "If only that were true."

Emperor Tianrong’s glare cut across the throne room like a blade, silencing Patriarch Lin mid-protest. The old healer cringed slightly, looking down while taking a small step back.

"The Guild has already brought this to my attention." Tianrong’s voice dropped to something colder, more dangerous. He turned that imperial gaze on Patriarch Lin with the weight of absolute authority. "Were you aware that Selene Lin is a naturally-born alchemist? According to Master Alchemist Feng, she’s a once-in-a-trans-generational genius. Someone who could’ve advanced the Empire’s potioneering by decades, even placing us ahead of the Federation."

The question hung in the air like an executioner’s blade.

Patriarch Lin stood absolutely shocked, his composure finally cracking completely. "N-n-no, of course not." He stuttered, the confidence of eight decades evaporating. "If we’d known, we would’ve done everything in our power to train her. By the broken Codex!"

Understanding dawned across his weathered face with the force of revelation.

"That explains it..." Horror colored his voice. "Why that damn girl Caelia never took alchemy seriously, no matter how many times we tried to get her to focus on it. She always said she loved healing, that the healing arts were her calling."

His hands clenched into fists. "Rusting void! How dare she? Caelia denied the Lin clan an alchemy genius!"

The fury in his voice was genuine—not outrage at the crime itself, but rage at lost opportunity. At a resource that could’ve elevated the Lin family squandered through deception.

Emperor Tianrong studied Patriarch Lin’s reaction with the assessment of someone who’d spent decades reading people. The shock appeared genuine. The dismay authentic. The fury at Caelia’s denial of clan resources rang true.

"The Guild is investigating this matter," Tianrong said, his tone carrying warning. "No doubt they’ll be visiting the Lin clan looking for answers."

"Not just them." Darian’s voice cut through before Patriarch Lin could respond. "The Metropolitan Police have subpoenaed Caelia’s student records from Empire First Academy. And from the way Caelia acted during questioning, I’m positive those records will show that Caelia submitted Selene’s potions under her own name."

He met Patriarch Lin’s eyes directly.

"They’re going to hold the Lin clan accountable."

"W-w-hat?" Patriarch Lin’s face went from pale to gray. "Why would they come after us? That bloodless wench was just a foster child—"

"That may be so." Darian interrupted with precision that cut through panic. "But I recall that you personally vouched for her when she submitted her final potion assessment. She was supposed to produce her final potioncrafting in front of the judgment panel, but at that time..."

"Stars below!" Patriarch Lin cursed, memory flooding back. Emperor Tianrong watched with dark amusement—the old healer had cursed more in the past five minutes than he had in decades.

"I remember now." Horror dawned in Lin’s voice. "That girl—she had some medical emergency. Something about a viral outbreak in a small town in the Eighth District, so she barely made it back in time." He rubbed his forehead in dismay. "She said she’d made those potions while attending the sick, said she was practicing. I told the Dean and the head of the alchemy department that I’d personally seen her create those potions."

His hands moved to his temples as if trying to ward off implications.

"I personally signed an oath with the academy."

The weight of that admission settled over the throne room like ash.

"While this fraud is serious," Emperor Tianrong said, hands coming together in a contemplative gesture, fingers steepled beneath his chin, "it doesn’t warrant a Code Red situation."

His gaze fixed on Darian with uncomfortable intensity.

"I assume there’s more?"

"Yes, Sire." Darian’s military composure held, but something in his voice carried the weight of worse revelations to come. "Unfortunately, this is just the tip of the iceberg."

Patriarch Lin’s stomach dropped. By the Light, what had this girl done? If the fraud and Academy situation wasn’t serious enough for Code Red, he couldn’t imagine what was.

Darian continued with systematic precision—facts delivered without emotion, letting the horror speak for itself.

"Selene was poisoned the night prior to her bloodrite. The poison caused a full blood regression."

Patriarch Lin swayed, one hand reaching for a nearby pillar to steady himself. Full blood regression. The words echoed like a death knell.

"Caelia confessed that instead of creating a potion to purify her own bloodline, she somehow created one that destroyed it. Complete bloodline regression—all of Selene’s sigils stripped away. Everything that made her Lin, gone."

He turned to look directly at Patriarch Lin, who was now clutching his chest.

"But it didn’t stop there. Caelia poisoned children from other Celestial and Noble families—taking her own revenge for any social slight. She turned to your secret bloodline database, the one where you’ve been tracking all the bloodlines in the Empire for hundreds of years, to find the best targets for her vengeance."

The throne room fell silent.

Emperor Tianrong’s face became a mask of stone, but his eyes burned with something cold and terrible. When Darian reached the part about the database, that golden gaze fixed on Patriarch Lin with a look that could freeze lava.

The old healer cringed under that imperial glare.

"Is there more?" Tianrong asked quietly. The sort of quiet that preceded storms.

"Yes, Your Imperial Majesty." Darian’s voice remained steady despite the weight of revelation. "There was no Amber Kiss incident eighteen years ago. Selene was innocent. Both the Lin and Longs could be found guilty of calling for a false bloodhunt."

He didn’t mention his internal suspicion—whether Caelia had also arranged the baby swap. That particular revelation required more certainty, more proof. But the thought circled in his mind like a carrion bird.

Emperor Tianrong stood, the movement carrying the weight of imperial fury barely contained.

"What in hell was the Lin clan doing tracking bloodlines? Were you planning on rebelling?"

The accusation hung in the air like smoke from funeral pyres.

Patriarch Lin, by this time shell-shocked from revelations cascading over him, could barely form words. He couldn’t believe Caelia had managed to do so many terrible things. Never mind the other clans hunting the Lin down—if Emperor Tianrong thought they’d planned rebellion, those clans wouldn’t even get the chance. The Lin clan wouldn’t see it through the night.

Terror screamed through his mind with absolute clarity.

"No! Absolutely not!" Patriarch Lin denied vehemently, voice carrying desperation. "Your Imperial Majesty, please—"

He took a shaking breath, organizing thoughts that felt like they were crumbling.

"At the time we started looking into bloodlines, it was more from finding ways to strengthen the Lin Clan." Words came faster now, building momentum. "As you know, the Lin clan has always been healers, which meant we’ve always been weaker than the other celestial families. My ancestors wanted to find a way to strengthen the clan’s bloodline, allowing us to cultivate not only healers but warriors as well."

He gestured helplessly.

"So they started tracking which bloodlines would be better to intermarry. And for a short time, it worked. We had our own warriors to protect the clan, which prevented annexation." His voice carried historical vulnerability. "We were perfectly aware that our lack of strength made our clan attractive. Who wouldn’t want their own designated healers, ones who’d keep their family secrets?"

Patriarch Lin met the Emperor’s eyes with the courage of someone who had nothing left to lose.

"The only reason the Lins hadn’t been annexed yet was that the other seven celestial families kept each other in check, and they were uncertain about our guardian beast’s strength. But we knew it was only a matter of time."

He paused.

"After a couple of hundred years, we found that the price we paid to have fighting powers was that our healing talents started to diminish. We then had to find marriage partners with the lesser noble families to weaken the warrior gene." Regret colored his tone. "While it’s worked over the past three hundred years, our healers are nowhere near as powerful as they used to be."

His hands spread in acknowledgment.

"Since we already had hundreds of years of data, we carried on our research. One path was to find other ways to strengthen our bloodlines. The other was protection." His voice dropped. "My ancestor realized that as time went on, our warrior strength would diminish, so we needed an alternative method."

He looked between Darian and the Emperor, words tumbling out faster as nerves made him ramble.

"Only a few select individuals know about this. I’m really shocked that Caelia found out. We’ve been so careful, so discreet. The database was supposed to be—well, it was meant for—" He caught himself, forced his breathing to slow. "I can only assume she stumbled across it somehow. Maybe while researching genetic markers? Though how she accessed files that should’ve been encrypted beyond her clearance level, I honestly don’t know."

The nervous rambling of a man watching his family’s greatest secret unravel.

Emperor Tianrong studied Patriarch Lin with the intensity of someone weighing truth against deception. He knew something of celestial clan history, was well aware that many families had considered annexing the Lins. The story had the ring of truth—desperate measures from a vulnerable position.

And internally, Tianrong’s thoughts were already calculating possibilities.

This database could be very useful, he thought with cold pragmatism. Not only would I grasp a thorough understanding of celestial and noble family bloodlines, but with the Sundering coming, this could be a windfall.

"Just how in-depth is this database?" he asked, tone shifting to strategic assessment.

Seeing that Emperor Tianrong looked more amicable, Patriarch Lin couldn’t help breathing a sigh of relief. Of course, he understood exactly what the Emperor was thinking.

"Very," Patriarch Lin said, allowing himself a small note of pride. "I can confidently say that our database covers nearly ninety percent of the citizens of the Empire."

"Really?" Genuine surprise flickered across Tianrong’s features. "And just how many of my people has your clan snatched?"

Patriarch Lin smiled bitterly. He knew the Emperor would ask this. "Just over twenty-five thousand."