The Schlagen Reef was a graveyard untouched by light. A single small craft wove its way through the dark space region crowded with countless rock masses of all sizes. The vessel's identification signal had been derived from the data Kircheis had risked his life to leave behind. The enemy fortress's sensor network recognized the craft as a "returning friendly patrol boat" and let it pass unchallenged. Inside the craft, Reinhard von Müsel kept his hands on the console. His blazing golden hair was messily disheveled, and only his ice-blue eyes gave off an eerie gleam. His uniform was still soiled from the battle at Leutenberg. Only the silver brooch on his left chest reflected a cold, inorganic light. (*Kircheis...*) He murmured the name within his heart. That alone was enough to make his nearly frozen heart beat once more. The craft landed in the fortress's hangar. The moment the hatch opened, Reinhard was already running. Two guards appeared from around a corridor corner. "[surprised]Hey, who the hell—" He didn't let them finish. Reinhard's knife-hand strike crushed the soldier's windpipe, and at the same time, he swept the second man's legs out from under him, slamming him to the floor. A dull thud. He seized the fallen soldier's blaster and released the safety. There was no hesitation in his movements. He advanced down the corridor. From the fragments of supply records Kircheis had left behind, he had the fortress's layout memorized. The detention block was on the third underground level. The elevator was unusable. He sprinted down the stairs. He jumped down two floors' worth, and upon landing, rolled forward to kill his momentum. Behind him, an alarm began to blare. "[cold]Too slow." Reinhard did not slow his pace. Third underground level. A rusted iron door. He kicked it down. In the center of the room was Kircheis. Both hands were suspended by chains, bound to a grating. His crimson hair was matted with blood and sweat, his uniform torn, revealing skin covered in wounds. The gunshot wound on his left shoulder had not even been bandaged, and the injury had turned a blackish hue. Even so—Kircheis's deep green eyes were not closed. "[whispers]...I told you not to come." A voice forced out from his throat. His lips were completely dry and cracked. Reinhard did not answer. Wordlessly, he removed the restraints and supported Kircheis's body. "[cold]If I had listened to you, I would already be finished." A short statement. That was all. But Kircheis, as if understanding everything from those few words, let the corners of his mouth relax slightly. There was a terminal in the corner of the room. Reinhard leaned Kircheis against the wall and activated the terminal. A list of data appeared on the screen. Communication logs, a coup d'état plan, communication identification codes for infiltrating the capital—a complete bundle of evidence that the Seektwald Faction Alliance intended to hijack the Empire itself from within. As Reinhard transferred the data to a portable terminal, a cold smile crossed his face. (*Krausewitz. With this, I've taken your head.*) "[gentle]Can you stand?" Reinhard extended his hand. Kircheis grasped it, placed a hand against the wall, and stood up. "[gentle]...I can stand." His voice was still hoarse. But a definite light had returned to his eyes. The two boarded the small craft. Warp activation. The ship folded space, and the stars transformed into lines of light. From the pilot's seat, Reinhard watched Kircheis brace himself against the wall to stay conscious. He reached out. He gently supported Kircheis's shoulder. Kircheis did not shake off that hand. He simply closed his eyes quietly. The ship leaped toward the imperial capital of Waldheisen. --- The imperial capital, Ostia. A heavy atmosphere filled the grand hall of the Imperial Palace, "Neue Walhalla." "[serious]...Therefore, the suspension of High Admiral Reinhard von Müsel's command authority is no longer a matter that can be postponed. The responsibility for annihilating the fleet must be settled by stripping him of his flag officer rank." The old nobleman, his silver slicked-back hair perfectly groomed, continued his speech in a grave voice. His cold gray eyes fixed upon each of the attending flag officers in turn. Krausewitz von Stauffenberg. The leader of the Seektwald Faction Alliance, the old dueling scar on his right cheek telling the story of the man's way of life. The Emperor, seated in attendance, remained silent upon his throne. "[serious]Those in favor, rise." Before Krausewitz could finish— BANG!! The grand hall's massive doors were kicked open from the inside. Every gaze focused on the entrance at once. Standing there was a young man clad in a tattered uniform, his golden hair wildly disheveled. "[cold]That vote will have to wait." A quiet voice. But with those words, the air in the hall froze solid. Reinhard advanced without hesitation. Ignoring the murmuring nobles, he stepped forward before the Emperor. "[angry]Insolent wretch! What do you think this place is?!" Reinhard did not answer. Instead, he connected his terminal to the conference hall's large screen. The screen lit up, displaying countless pieces of data. It was the full text of the communication logs exchanged between Krausewitz and the Faction Alliance's leadership. "[cold]As you can see. A coup d'état plan by the Seektwald Faction Alliance. The procedure for seizing the imperial capital by abusing communication identification codes for capital infiltration and disguising themselves as a regular fleet is recorded here, complete with dates and times." The hall fell silent, as if a bucket of water had been thrown over it. "[cold]And this is the contact record with the Dirkschneider Secret Intelligence Bureau, which ordered the attempted assassination of Kircheis." Reinhard's fingers manipulated the terminal. A new document appeared on the screen. The color drained from Krausewitz's face. "[angry]...A fabrication!!" The old nobleman shouted. But his voice trembled slightly. "[cold]A fabrication? Then explain why the timestamps on this encryption match the Faction Alliance's internal approval codes." Reinhard's voice was as cold as ice. With a calm tone that suppressed all emotion, he piled up the evidence point by point. It was far more terrifying than shouting in rage. The precision of his logic silenced the nobles one by one. Krausewitz's gray eyes wavered, like a hawk that had lost its prey. "[angry]...In that case!!" Krausewitz signaled his guards. The armed soldiers who had been waiting in the corners of the hall raised their blasters in unison. "[cold]Resorting to force. So that's your last resort." Reinhard did not move. His ice-blue eyes pierced through Krausewitz. The guards put their fingers on the triggers—at that instant. The rear doors of the hall opened without a sound. What appeared was a red-haired young man wrapped in bandages all over his body. His crimson hair swayed faintly. His deep green eyes held a quiet anger. "[surprised]Kirch...heis...?!" Someone cried out as if seeing a ghost. A man who should have been dead was standing there alive. That fact alone froze the air in the hall. The guards stopped moving for an instant. In that instant, Kircheis moved. He grabbed a guard's wrist and twisted it upward. Minimal force. His body, which should have been covered in wounds, subdued the opponent to the floor with efficient, wasted movements. The clatter of a blaster falling to the floor broke the silence. While still restraining the guard, Kircheis slowly knelt and bowed his head toward the Emperor. "[gentle]...The evidence Lord Reinhard has brought is genuine." A quiet voice. But that single statement completely changed the atmosphere in the hall. Kircheis tried to stand and staggered. He put a hand against the wall. Reinhard rushed over wordlessly and supported his shoulder. (*...Honestly.*) Reinhard murmured in his heart. Even at a time like this, he couldn't suppress the slight loosening of his lips. The Emperor spoke for the first time. "...Krausewitz. Do you have anything to say in your defense?" Krausewitz slowly raised his face. What dwelled in those gray eyes was neither anger nor fear—but the deep, old pain of a wound. "[serious]...I merely acted to preserve the Empire's order." Krausewitz's voice was quiet. "[serious]What would happen if an upstart practically no different from a commoner, like Reinhard von Müsel, were to dominate the Empire? The order the nobility has built up over a hundred years would collapse, and the Empire would be devoured from within. ...It was necessary to prevent that." There was unmistakable conviction in those words. He was not a mere villain. He was a man who genuinely feared for the Empire's future and, for that reason, did not choose his means. That was all he was. Reinhard showed emotion openly for the first time. "[cold]That order took my sister from me." Flames dwelled in his ice-blue eyes. "[cold]That order killed my soldiers. It nearly took my adjutant from me twice. If you would sell the Empire for your own ambitions—" Reinhard stared straight at Krausewitz. "[cold]I will put an end to it." Silence fell over the hall. The Emperor opened his heavy mouth. "Krausewitz von Stauffenberg. You are hereby detained on suspicion of treason. Furthermore, I order an investigation into all noble houses affiliated with the Seektwald Faction Alliance. The relocation of Lady Annerose to a frontier planet is also immediately revoked." Guards surrounded Krausewitz. The old nobleman kept his back straight to the very end, remaining on his feet. At the moment he was led away, Krausewitz glanced back at Reinhard just once. Those gray eyes still held the pain of an old wound—yet somewhere within them was a color that seemed to have given up on everything. Reinhard returned nothing. The leading nobles of the Faction Alliance rose from their seats one after another, signaling their surrender. The atmosphere in the hall had completely changed. --- Countless stars twinkled in the night sky over the imperial capital of Ostia. The rooftop of the Ministry of Military Affairs main building. Reinhard and Kircheis stood side by side, gazing up at the starry sky. Even after medical treatment, Kircheis was still covered in bandages, standing as if protecting his left shoulder. Beside him, Reinhard stood with his arms crossed, watching the stars. It was the same starry sky they had seen from the rooftop as children. "[gentle]...Is that promise still valid?" Reinhard said it suddenly. Kircheis narrowed his eyes slightly. "[gentle]I never set an expiration date on it from the start." There was a brief silence. "[serious]Next time, I won't let anyone be lost." Reinhard's voice was quiet. But those words were filled with a resolve like steel. Kircheis did not answer, simply continuing to gaze at the stars with his deep green eyes. Suddenly, Kircheis swayed. His shoulder touched Reinhard's arm. Reinhard did not move. Kircheis remained as he was, too. Neither said anything, just continued to watch the stars, their shoulders touching. The nightscape of the imperial capital spread out below them, and the cold night wind stirred their hair. What broke that silence was Reinhard's communication terminal. A low electronic tone sounded. Reinhard took out the terminal and looked at the screen. An encrypted communication from an unknown sender. The content was just a single line. —Next time, we'll use the sister. From outside the Empire. Reinhard's ice-blue eyes narrowed sharply. "[cold]...Kircheis, it seems our battle has only just begun." Kircheis nodded quietly. His deep green eyes no longer held only pain. Beneath the starry sky of the imperial capital, the two young men sensed the arrival of a new battle. From this night onward, th