The chaos in the main hall continued without pause. Soldiers from the Hound unit still struggled against their restraints and each other while officers barked orders that no one fully followed.
Things were getting wild as some men tried to force the heavy doors shut while others shouted for medical aid or reinforcements. None of it mattered to the figure standing near the far wall.
He watched Ethan speak with the uniformed guard. His eyes tracked every shift in Ethan’s posture, every word that left his mouth.
When Ethan’s expression changed at the end of that short exchange, the watching man smiled. It was a small, private smile, but it was his.
He turned and walked out of the building with the same smile. His uniform matched the guard’s in every detail, the cut of the coat, the polish on the boots, the stiff set of the shoulders. Even his gait was the same, measured and slightly arrogant.
The same snobby tilt of the head. The same sharp lines of the face under the Roman-style guard hat. The only difference was the smile that stayed on his lips as he stepped into the open air.
Outside, away from the noise, he stopped. "Ethan, huh. That’s a good name. A competent name."
His body began to change. The shift was gradual but clear. His face lengthened and hardened. His frame grew taller and taller by several inches.
His legs stretched, the proportions adjusting until they looked built for speed rather than parade-ground stiffness. He pulled the Roman hat from his head and tossed it aside.
In its place he set a simple metal helm with two small wings fixed at the sides. The wings caught the light for a moment before he straightened.
"But let’s see if you are really competent in nature, brother. Slowly everyone will know what you are, what you possess. And they will come after you... not just men but also gods."
Yellow lightning curled around his boots. In the next instant he was gone, the air cracking once where he had stood.
Inside the command building, Ethan finally reached the chief’s office. His left leg still gave under him with every step. He pushed the door open and limped through.
"Ha, where’s the discipline here..." he commented.
The chief sat behind the desk, one hand pressed to the side of his headset. His eyes held a clear edge of anger, but he said nothing at first. Orders continued to leave his mouth in a low, controlled tone.
"Get the Hound unit locked down. I don’t care how many of them you have to restrain. If any more of them try to break for the exits, put them on the floor.
And someone, for the love of god, find out where the rest of Olivia’s personal staff went."
He cut the channel and looked at Ethan. "I didn’t know her military would stay that loyal to Olivia instead of the empire. That alone deserves punishment of the highest level."
Ethan nodded once, slightly. "Yes, quite good for rebellion, actually."
The chief stared at him, forcing him to look down.
"I’m sorry..."
The chief let out a long breath and leaned back in the chair.
"Whatever you did in there, I’m not going to ask for the full story right now. We’ve got bigger problems than one dead officer and a room full of shaken soldiers.
But I am curious about one thing. The woman you fought. Was that really... Athena?"
Ethan met his eyes. "Hard to believe, but... yes."
Marcus, standing near the wall, slammed a hand against the plaster. "I wasn’t dreaming! I told you I saw her! I told you!"
The chief turned his head sharply. "Enough. Sit down and keep your mouth shut until I ask for your report."
Marcus dropped into a chair, still muttering under his breath.
The chief looked back at Ethan. "Do you think what you did was right?"
Ethan stayed quiet for a moment. The words the guard had spoken earlier still sat in the front of his mind.
That man had known things no ordinary soldier should know. The conversation had not felt like something simple.
Something larger was moving underneath the surface, something that went past the empire and the usual power struggles. Ethan could feel it, even if he could not name it yet. He chose not to say any of that out loud.
"Yes," he simply answered.
The chief studied him for several seconds. "Listen carefully. We are not trying to start a revolution against the gods. That has never been the plan.
We are after the empire and the people who have been bleeding this region dry for years. Do not make enemies out of the wrong side.
Do you understand me?"
Ethan nodded. "I understand, sir!"
They were still speaking when the door suddenly opened again.
Karisa stepped in. Her face was calm now, the earlier fury burned down to a steady, cold focus. She looked first at the chief, then at Marcus.
"Please, get out. Both of you. I need to speak with him alone."
Ethan turned toward Marcus. "Stay... please."
Karisa’s eyes locked on Marcus. The stare lasted only a second, but it was enough. Marcus stood, muttered something about reports, and left with the chief, closing the door behind them.
The office felt smaller once the two men were gone. Karisa walked to the desk and rested one hand on its edge. She did not sit.
"I made the calls on the way here," she said. "My people inside the family were already waiting for the signal.
The report of what happened went through the proper channels. Officially, I am not returning. The family voted this morning, and I am the new head."
Ethan said nothing.
"They hated Olivia," Karisa continued. "The entire line did. She was a rotting weight on the family name for years. I am sure no one will miss her. No one will look too hard for the details of how she died, or went missing."
Ethan lowered his head and began to bow. "I’m sorr—"
Karisa stepped forward and caught his shoulder before the bow could finish. She forced him to straighten and looked directly into his eyes. The silence stretched.
Then her hand came up and struck him across the face.
Slap!
The sound was sharp in the quiet room. Then again.
Slap!
She slapped him a second time, on the other cheek.
She did not pull away afterward. Instead she kept her hand on his shoulder, and the corner of her mouth lifted in a thin smile.
"You had better be worth it," she said. "I am trusting you on one condition: she never comes back. Not for any reason. You understand that?"
Ethan met her gaze without flinching. "She will never come back. I give you my word."
He meant it. He had seen Athena. He had felt the weight of what she represented. Gods did not forget, and they did not forgive.
Whatever path he was on now, Karisa had no place walking it with him. The less she knew from this point forward, the safer she would stay.
Karisa held his shoulder a moment longer, then released him and stepped back. "Good. The family will handle the official story. You and the chief can deal with the mess downstairs. I leave tonight. And the funds will start arriving next month."
She turned toward the door as Ethan watched her go. He smiled, and the limp in his leg, which still ached horribly, and the side of his face stinging from the two strikes, felt indeed worth it.