Osram Time: 09:13, February 24, 2295

  Inner Sanctum, Vault of Primal Urges, Mare Imbrium, Near Side, Osram

  The cobalt pulse of glyphs resembling oracle bone scripts blurred before Dilinur Altai's eyes as their lights illuminated the grand cavern. She blinked, forcing herself to focus on the readings, but her thoughts kept drifting to Door Kaamos. To Joon-Seok's face after casting the Blood Rain Aria, how he demeanor had become almost unrecognizable as if—

  "Lady Prefect." Shazmeen's projection materialized with perfect poise, her translucent form studying Dilinur. "The patterns in this section show significant deviation from the Moondust Crystal's data. Are you certain this is the way?"

  Dilinur snapped back to the present, realizing she'd been staring at the same glyph sequence for nearly a minute. The Bloodtroopers maintained their positions, Thermal Battleaxes humming in the charged air, but she caught their subtle glances. Waiting for direction.

  "The readings? No, the patterns…" She faltered, then steeled herself. "Conjurers, prepare scrying rituals —"

  "An unusual choice." Kaori's voice carried practiced neutrality as she studied Dilinur's marked positions. Her daggers gleamed in the blue cavern's faint lights.

  Prince Joon-Seok entered the scene, his crimson-bladed Psytum Sword already drawn, illuminating the ambient space. The weapon's light caught the sharp planes of his face – the same face that had turned away from her after the Aria. "Split our troops. I'll command Team Boar. We'll have proper order while maintaining efficiency."

  Not a request. A statement of fact, delivered with authority behind it. Dilinur inclined her head, hating how his presence made her pulse quicken. "Yes, Your Highness."

  She forced her attention back to the glyphs, but the patterns swam before her. Had she imagined the warmth in their previous interactions? Had she dared to hope that an Unblooded like herself could find romance with a Prince —

  "Energy spike!" Shazmeen's warning whipped through the chamber. "Psionic signatures – not Radi-Mon, but…something else. Humans."

  Dilinur's Fan snapped open, silver edges catching ancient light. "Human signatures? This Vault has been sealed for—"

  The first shimmer appeared at the eastern perimeter. Not an explosion, but a ripple in reality itself. Where solid stone had stood moments before, shadows now coalesced into human form.

  "Cloaking tech!" An Amber-Eye's warning preceded the sharp crack of his kinetic crossbow. The bolt passed harmlessly through the apparition.

  "No," Dilinur realized, her eyes widening. "Not them. Please don't be them…"

  The shadows solidified into figures clad in light armor the color of desert sand, faces concealed behind wrapped fabric that left only their eyes visible. Each moved with liquid grace, combat knives gleaming in the vault's dim light.

  "Krypts," Joon-Seok spat the word like a curse. "Sand Lotus scum."

  A golden beam of energy sliced through the darkness, striking a Bloodtrooper square in the head. The soldier crumpled without a sound, a perfect circular hole burned through his skull. More beams followed, each finding their mark with terrifying precision.

  "Vedhs!" Dilinur identified the second wave, marksmen in lightweight brown gray robe armors, wielding distinctive Entropy Rifles that left trails of golden energy with each shot. They moved with discipline, establishing firing positions over the cliffs above the Imperium's own troops.

  "Defensive Formation Three! Conjurers, raise your barrier!" Dilinur commanded, but even as the words left her mouth, she knew they were reacting too slowly. The Sand Lotus attack persisted.

  Two Conjurers fell before they could complete their spells as Krypts moved like ghosts through their ranks, combat knives leaving red trails in their wake.

  "They're targeting our spell-casters," Joon-Seok realized, his crimson blade weaving near-perfect arcs as he intercepted a Krypt that had nearly reached a third Conjurer, his Psytum Sword cutting the assassin's head off. "Amber-Eyes, return fire!"

  The Amber-Eyes responded immediately, their crossbows unleashing a volley of kinetic bolts. But the Vedhs seemed to anticipate each shot, shifting positions with uncanny prescience, backing into the cliffs just enough to dodge the bolts.

  "Contact rear!" An Amber-Eye's warning preceded another volley of golden beams. One more Conjurer fell, his barrier spell flickering out.

  "Exploiting our position, hmm?" Joon-Seok's tactical assessment carried over the tight space. "Dinu, assist the Conjurers as I lead the troops!"

  The offer, however professionally delivered, burned. She felt Kaori's quick glance – measuring, judging. Here she was, another Unblooded who was better at following orders than giving them —

  No.

  Something crystallized in Dilinur's chest. Cold. Sharp. The chaos of combat stripped away everything but the immediate. No time for doubt. No space for rejection.

  Her Psi Fan snapped fully open, its silver edges and red jewel catching ancient light.

  "Conjurers, channel your through my Tarim Aytün if your Aether falters," she commanded, her voice finding new steel as she held her Psi Fan close to her chest.

  The remaining Conjurers complied, as ruby-hued psionic barriers shaped like domes manifested, shielding her troops, absorbing the waves of golden lasers fired by the Vedhs from above.

  A Krypt materialized beside her, having somehow bypassed their perimeter entirely. His knife flashed toward her throat with lethal precision. Dilinur's Fan swept up, deflecting the blow by mere millimeters. The assassin's eyes – dark and determined above his face covering – widened in surprise at her speed.

  "Agni ?ūla Hana!"

  The red energy forming a flame scythe caught the Krypt mid-leap, sending him crashing into the ancient stone, the residual energy melting his lifeless flesh to a pile of crimson dust.

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  "Impressive," a tenor voice resonated through the chamber, halting the combat as effectively as a physical barrier. "The Unblooded Prefect lives up to her reputation, even if her people won't appreciate it."

  A tall Djinno figure emerged from the shadows near the eastern breach. Unlike the others, he wore no face covering, revealing handsome features framed by a close-cropped beard. His golden-brown skin caught the vault's light as he stepped forward, a simple white warstaff held at his side. The garment draped across him resembled traditional Indian attire, the green and white fabric marked with intricate golden patterns along its borders.

  "Amir Talwar," Joon-Seok's voice carried recognition and contempt in equal measure. "I suspected the Sand Lotus would send you. Is Fuuka occupied bedding someone important?"

  "Joon-Seok Pak. Still the spoiled brat, I see." Amir's expression remained serene as he inclined his head toward the prince. His gaze shifted to Dilinur, something like genuine regret crossing his features. "I'd hoped we might meet under different circumstances, Khatun Altai. You are too noble to serve masters like these."

  Khatun. The khan's next of kin. A woman of great import. The title which would have meant something in an era before the Imperium, when House Altai was still respected. Hearing it only made Dilinur's heart ache.

  Yet none of that mattered here and now. The term was historical, best left forgotten.

  Dilinur's Fan remained at the ready, her stance unwavering. "Your lies won't save you, terrorist."

  A smile touched Amir's lips. "Where I come from, we don't ask permission to speak truth." His white staff swept in a graceful arc, not attacking but gesturing toward the vault around them. "Just as we don't ask permission to protect what belongs to the Great Void Beyond, not the Imperium."

  "The Moondust Crystal is Imperial property," Kaori's daggers gleamed as she stood beside Dilinur, clearly looking for an opening to strike. "By right and strength, we're the most worthy to wield it."

  "The Crystal belongs to no mortal," Amir countered, his voice carrying throughout the chamber without effort. His gaze returned to Dilinur, something almost like compassion in his eyes. "You don't have to do this, Khatun Altai. You, of all people, know how the Imperium would use it for."

  "And just what would we use it for?" Dilinur challenged.

  "Enslaving Radi-Mons and humans." Amir's gaze was as firm as his words. "Among things your grandfather Salur would never tolerate."

  Dilinur felt a chill run through her. How much did he know about her bloodline? Her fingers tightened on her Psi Fan.

  "Enough talk," Joon-Seok's crimson blade hummed with energy as he stepped forward. "Surrender the Vault to us, or die where you stand."

  Amir sighed, genuine regret crossing his features. "Always the same choice with the Imperium." His staff began to glow with golden light as he raised it. "Very well. Let us speak in the language you understand best."

  The attack came from three directions at once. Krypts seemed to materialize from shadows while Vedhs unleashed precision volleys from elevated positions. But it was Amir himself who proved most lethal – his staff sweeping in golden arcs that left trails of Solar energy in their wake.

  "Multiple breaches!" An Amber-Eye's warning crackled over the unit freq.

  "Hold formation," Dilinur commanded, even as she saw Bloodtroopers falling to coordinated strikes. She held Tarim Aytün more tightly and traced it through the air in desperate patterns, trying to shore up their defenses. "Conjurers, focus on—"

  "Your Imperial doctrine blinds you," Amir's voice carried over the chaos as he effortlessly parried a Bloodtrooper's Thermal Battleaxe. The soldier crumpled as Amir's staff swept his legs from under him. "Just as it blinds all who serve the Imperium."

  A Vedh's golden beam passed dangerously close to Dilinur's head, cutting a few strands of her midnight black hair. She felt her connection to Aether resonance dim, her hands growing sluggish. Around her, more soldiers fell to precisely targeted attacks.

  "Your Highness!" Kaori's warning came a heartbeat too late.

  Amir's form blurred with unexpected speed, closing the distance to Joon-Seok's position. The prince's crimson energy blade scored a glancing blow across Amir's shoulder, drawing a thin line of blood, but the Sand Lotus Rishi barely flinched. With precision, his staff struck Joon-Seok's sword arm.

  "The Prince of Choson, his hands covered in blood of innocents," Amir's voice carried no mockery, only determination. "Repent, and you may yet be forgiven."

  "I will not yield to terrorists," Joon-Seok's words carried even as pain flashed across his features. His arm hung limp at his side, his Psytum Sword flickering as his concentration wavered.

  "Then you leave us no choice." Amir's staff swept again, striking Joon-Seok with enough force to send him staggering back against the obsidian wall.

  "Joon-Seok!" Dilinur's Psi Fan was lowered as she saw him fumbling for his Medi-Vap dispenser with his good hand. But the healing vapor dissipated weakly in the charged air before it could reach his lips.

  Amir turned toward Dilinur, his expression solemn. "I've etched the Mark of Torment upon his soul." He extended his hand, an offer rather than a threat. "Withdraw your forces, or he perishes in the next hour."

  "Team Tiger, converge!" Kaori vaulted over a fallen Bloodtrooper, her eyes blazing with lethal focus. Her Thermal Daggers left crimson trails through the darkness as she led her squads in a precision assault. "Slay the monk!"

  Releasing Joon-Seok, Amir whirled to meet the new threat, his staff a blur of golden light. He moved with fluid grace despite Kaori's speed, weaving between their coordinated strikes. His countermoves were economical, targeting pressure points rather than aiming for lethal blows. As Kaori retreated from Amir's reach, three more Bloodtroopers fell, their Thermal Battleaxes useless against his technique, their armored bodies thumping against the ground.

  "The Way of Shaolin," Dilinur realized, her ornate hairpin catching the vault's cobalt light as she analyzed his movements. "Not killing when one doesn't have to."

  "Fascinating observation." Shazmeen's ethereal form studied the battle with clinical interest, bangles gleaming against her dark skin. "Though perhaps we should focus on winning?"

  Dilinur's Fan traced a defensive arc as more Krypts converged on their position. "No – this is important. He's fighting to incapacitate, not exterminate." Her eyes narrowed behind Tarim Aytün's silver leaf shielding her face. "Still open to bargaining."

  Amir's voice carried over the combat. "Consider what you're fighting for, Prefect. Is the Emperor's ambition worth the freedom of every mind in the Five Realms?"

  Dilinur lowered her Fan, a cold resolve settling over her features. "Amir Talwar," she called out, her voice carrying across the chamber with unexpected authority. "By the Right of Shakti Spardhā, I challenge you to a duel of psions. Let our conflict be decided by skill alone."

  A murmur of shock rippled through the Imperial forces. Kaori's eyes widened in surprise, while Joon-Seok's expression darkened with concern.

  Amir stood motionless for several heartbeats, genuine astonishment visible on his face. "You invoke the Lotus Trial by Combat?" His warstaff lowered slightly. "How does a Prefect come to know our sacred traditions?"

  A cold smile touched Dilinur's lips. "I've interrogated many of your operatives in my province. They proved...educational." Her Fan snapped fully open. "Will you honor the tradition, or does the Sand Lotus lack the courage of its convictions?"

  "Name your terms." the Djinno monk held his gaze.

  "If I'm victorious, you'll withdraw your forces after removing the Mark of Torment from His Highness." she offered, her grip on Tarim Aytün tightening as she gestured at Joon-Seok.

  "And should I prevail, you will leave the Vault of Primal Urges, never to set foot on Osram again." he replied with a smirk.

  "Tatha astu!" she intoned firmly. 'Let it be so' in Devavā?ī, their shared psionic language.

  "Tatha astu." Amir's expression shifted to something like respect as he echoed. He raised his warstaff, touching its tip to his forehead in formal acknowledgment.

  "Krypts, Vedhs, stand down," he commanded, his tenor voice carrying to the farthest corners of the chamber. "The Prefect has invoked Shakti Spardhā. We will honor the ancient way."