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The path beneath their feet appeared like woven light, shifting with each step.

Ki’Remi took it all in, his meta ink flaring in silent defiance.

He’d walked through war zones drenched in blood and fire. Freakin’ carved his way through the worst of man’s cruelty and faced down death and worse, but this place unsettled him unlike any other.

Twas too much.Too pristine and unblemished, designed to make one feel small.

Issa, however, moved with familiarity through these halls.

She marched with eyes narrowed, not looking to the left or right in awe like he was, keeping pace with their deified captor.

Zavei finally slowed his steps, casting a glance over his shoulder. ‘Most mortals never step foot here,’ he intoned, smooth as polished onyx yet laced with warning. ‘For you are mere whispers in the breath of eternity. Inconsequential and unimportant. You should be honored.’

Issa let out a quiet exhale. ‘ Honored by whom? By those with no shame, by they who conspire in the high heavens?’ shemurmured. ‘Nada, nofokkinway. I don’t require their faux honor.’

Zavei smirked. ‘Ever the philosopher-poet, little star.’

They reached the heart of the palace and approached a pair of great doors, black as the abyss, carved with celestial sigils.

They stretched skyward until they vanished into the vaulted ceiling above.

The moment the warriors at their flanks moved to part them, a surge of divine energy whipped through the space, flinging the portal open.

Beyond the enclosure lay not a chamber not of imprisonment but of ridiculous luxury, thought the Rider.

The ivory embellished furniture was decadent, with throws and pillows made of hue-shifting fur.

White marble walls gleamed, their surfaces shimmering like catching the light from unseen stars.

The terrace opened to Sivania’s celestial skyline, spires glinting in the ever-fluctuating hues of an endless dusk.

Bridges spun from gold and stardust connected floating islands to the grand palace, suspended over an expanse of infinite sky.

At the center of the chamber sat a table set with a feast fit for the gods.

Ki’Remi’s gaze narrowed at the opulence.

At the fruits that bled clouds of color in slow, hypnotic swirls.

Goblets of liquid amber shimmering as if filled with the essence of the sun.

Platters of spiced meats that glistened with veins of metallic silver, steaming with scents he could not name.

Desserts so rich they clung to the air, thick and over-sweet, a decadence designed to unhinge all restraint.

It was excess. Over thefokkin’ top. All of it.

That alone made Ki’Remi wary.

It was Issa who finally spoke, her voice quiet yet sure.

‘I need an audience with Ssigard.’

That earned her a raised brow from Zavei. His lips curved with a hint of malice.

‘The god of war?’ he echoed, the appellation rolling like a blade over smooth stone. ‘Ah, your beloved warlord. Your mentor.’

He leaned in, eyes gleaming.