A brilliant light erupted around the men and women gathered in the chamber.

  Vale didn’t blink.

  He knew the flash would vanish in less than a second, but as that second stretched on, something unexpected stirred in his chest.

  Nervousness.

  Perhaps it was because he hadn’t attended a gathering like this in a long time. Or perhaps it was the weight of knowing who would be present. Either way, Vale took a slow, steady breath and focused his gaze forward.

  His hair hung loosely around his face, framing his features. It wasn’t unkempt, far from it. If anything, it looked deliberate, almost effortless. Strands brushed lightly against his eyes and ears, just enough to be noticeable without ever seeming careless. He looked more like a model than a warrior.

  He glanced at the others.

  They all looked exceptional.

  Even Yuki, usually a battle-hungry brute, appeared strangely elegant in her dress. Callum and Evelyn, as always, looked like the perfect pairing, their presence drawing the eye without effort.

  Vale frowned slightly.

  He realized something odd.

  He hadn’t seen a single ugly person in Sector Zero.

  If anything, everyone here was… beautiful.

  It was likely the effect of awakening. Vale had read that individuals with a Visora organ developed tougher bodies to withstand their unique powers. He had assumed that meant increased resilience and physical endurance, not aesthetic perfection.

  Apparently, he’d underestimated the process.

  His attention shifted as the light faded completely.

  They stood within a vast hall adorned with polished wooden furniture and deep red curtains that cascaded from high ceilings. Several other attendees were already present, standing in small groups or waiting in silence.

  Vale recognized some of them immediately.

  Caesar. Levianthe. Rose. Fe.

  Each wore either a pristine suit or a magnificent dress, their presence commanding attention even in stillness. Vale’s gaze lingered on Fe.

  The man looked… calm.

  Unnaturally so.

  Vale had heard plenty about Fe after meeting him before, stories of a wandering hermit who traveled the world in search of knowledge, hunting spawn to protect the helpless. A man who rarely spoke.

  Vale glanced briefly at Callum, who stood beside Evelyn, holding her hand gently. With a quiet sigh, Vale realized they wouldn’t bother him any further.

  So he stepped away.

  As Vale moved toward the Rosemary family, Levianthe suddenly jogged toward him, her expression bright with enthusiasm.

  “Brother Vale,” she said warmly, stopping just in front of him. “It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

  She wore a blue dress that suited her perfectly. The fabric was thin, but not fragile, clearly designed for agility, much like the dresses worn by Yuki and Evelyn.

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  Vale smiled and bowed slightly.

  “The pleasure is mine.”

  As he straightened, Caesar walked past him without a word, heading straight toward Yuki. He stopped several meters away, the two of them locking eyes in what could only be described as a silent standoff.

  Vale watched for a moment, then turned back to Levianthe.

  “Do you know when the gala will begin?” he asked respectfully.

  Levianthe clasped her hands together and closed her eyes, smiling.

  “Of course. The gala has already begun. However, due to our status, we are required to wait a little longer.”

  Vale blinked, then considered it.

  '…Yeah. That checks out,' he thought.

  Their family, no, their organization, was powerful enough to warrant such treatment.

  He nodded and waved Levianthe off politely as she rejoined the others, then continued forward toward Fe. Ember and the ravens followed for a short distance before branching off, settling into different corners of the room.

  As Vale approached, the motionless man shifted.

  Fe’s head tilted slightly beneath his black leather blindfold, his unseen gaze turning toward Vale with an unsettling coldness.

  Vale slowed.

  Rose stood beside Fe’s chair and noticed Vale’s hesitation. She frowned, then turned sharply toward Fe and smacked him on the back of the head.

  “Don’t scare your brother like that,” she snapped.

  Fe’s head lurched forward from the impact before he slowly straightened again, saying nothing.

  Vale let out an awkward smile.

  Rose turned back to him, her expression softening.

  “Don’t worry, Vale. He might look scary, but he wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

  Vale smiled back.

  Rose stepped away, clearly intending to join Evelyn and the others. As she passed Vale, she tapped him lightly on the shoulder. Vale glanced back at her with a complicated expression before continuing forward.

  He sat down in a brown leather chair opposite Fe.

  Silence followed.

  Vale studied the black-haired man carefully. He knew a great deal about Fe, his reputation, his travels, his battles, but none of that helped him now.

  'This is awkward,' Vale thought.

  Fe wasn’t known for conversation. And Vale had no idea how to begin speaking to a man who seemed more comfortable in stillness than in words.

  Minutes passed.

  The tension grew heavy.

  Vale finally sighed and opened his mouth,

  “Here.”

  Fe’s voice cut through the silence before him.

  He extended a strange leather bag toward Vale.

  Vale studied the man in silence, his expression uncertain.

  For several long seconds, he didn’t move.

  The leather bag rested between them, offered so casually that it made Vale uneasy. Finally, after a moment of hesitation, he extended his hand and grasped it carefully.

  The instant Fe released his grip, the weight nearly dragged it from Vale’s hand.

  He jerked forward, barely catching it before it slipped from his grasp, a strained groan escaping his throat as he hauled it into his lap.

  “What is this?” Vale asked, genuine confusion coloring his voice. He couldn’t imagine why Fe would carry something so heavy so casually.

  Fe remained silent.

  Time passed, long enough for the question to feel unanswered, before he finally spoke, his tone flat and indifferent.

  “A gift.”

  Vale frowned.

  He glanced at Fe, then back down at the bag resting on his legs. After a moment, he opened it.

  Inside lay a single scale.

  It was pitch-black, so dark it seemed to consume the light around it. The surface wasn’t glossy or matte, it was something else entirely, an absence rather than a color.

  Vale carefully lifted it.

  The scale was no larger than his palm.

  And yet it felt as though he were trying to lift a truck.

  His arm trembled slightly as he set it back down, exhaling sharply.

  “How heavy is this thing?” he muttered, mostly to himself.

  Despite that, Fe answered.

  “If I had to guess,” he said calmly, “about a thousand kilograms.”

  Vale’s eyes widened.

  He knew he was stronger than the average person, far stronger, but this… this was beyond anything he’d consciously measured before. The realization settled uneasily in his chest.

  He looked back at Fe, his expression conflicted.

  “What is it from?” he asked slowly. “A spawn you killed?”

  Fe said nothing.

  The silence stretched again, heavier this time.

  Vale shifted uncomfortably, the awkwardness creeping in. Fe’s face remained impassive beneath the blindfold, offering no reaction, no hint of explanation.

  Then, suddenly, light flared behind Vale.

  A teleportation flash.

  Vale sighed in relief at the interruption and turned instinctively to see who had emerged from the chamber

  “This scale once belonged to Dagon.”

  Fe’s words cut through everything else.

  Vale froze.

  The noise of the room faded from his awareness as his mind stalled on a single name.

  He turned back slowly.

  Fe was grinning.

  A finger was pressed lightly to his lips.

  “Shhh.”

  Vale looked down again at the scale in his hands.

  Dagon.

  The Great Dragon of Despair.

  His confusion deepened, replaced by something heavier, something bordering on disbelief.

  Was he truly holding a scale torn from that creature?