Chapter 90
Hive World Nos – Central Conclave Chamber
The chamber deep beneath Nos' polar citadel was built for secrecy, not splendor. A relic of war-time shadow councils, its walls were reinforced with grav-iron and layered with nullfields. No transmissions escaped. No listening devices survived.
And now, in the ruins of the Kargal Empire, it had become the throne room for four would-be rulers.
Niro stood at the apex of the room, near the ancient dais where the High Minister's sword once lay. He hadn't told them the truth—that Kiro still lived, that the Blood System was pulsing from the Graveband like a dormant god beginning to breathe.
It wasn't time.
Not yet.
"We need a ruler," Zion said flatly, folding his arms. "Without one, the outer systems will fracture. The Kruger fleets are splitting. Mercenaries are pledging to pirates and warlords. The Archive's awakening won't wait for our debates."
"I agree," said Arton, stepping forward. "Which is why it should be someone with power. Someone who didn't kneel when the Voidstorms came. Someone who held the breach while the rest of you ran."
Niro scoffed. "You want the crown, Arton? Fine. Try to take it."
A sharp silence followed.
Neix leaned against a column of polished obsidian, watching with unreadable eyes behind her silver veil. "You both sound like children playing war."