Selene stood atop the highest tower of the Verdant Nexus, watching the flickering flames in the distance.

  Blackwell’s lands.

  Her lands.

  The battlefield that was never meant to be a battlefield.

  She knew how the battle had ended before a single scout had returned.

  Not with bloodshed.

  Not with destruction.

  But with understanding.

  Brannor had thought he could take her lands.

  He had thought that his steel and tactics could outmatch her control.

  But he had not understood what he was fighting.

  And now, he was no longer fighting at all.

  ---

  The scouts arrived just before dawn.

  Foxes was already lounging nearby, golden eyes gleaming as the messengers kneeled before Selene.

  “My Lady,” one of them began, voice uncertain, “Blackwell’s city… it has not fallen.”

  Selene nodded. “I know.”

  The scout hesitated.

  “Yes, but… the enemy has. Completely.”

  Selene met his gaze.

  “Explain.”

  The man swallowed.

  “No corpses. No bodies. No signs of battle. Just—” He exhaled, shaking his head. “They’re all still there. But they’re not the same.”

  Selene waited.

  The scout licked his lips.

  “They’re calling themselves the Bound.”

  Foxes chuckled softly.

  Selene did not react.

  “And Brannor?”

  The scout hesitated.

  Then:

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  “He… knelt.”

  A pause.

  “And then he laughed.”

  ---

  Selene turned back toward the distant horizon, toward the lands that had once been Brannor’s.

  Her lands now.

  Not because she had conquered them.

  Not because she had destroyed them.

  But because they had surrendered before they even realized they had.

  She could picture him now.

  Brannor of the Iron Pact.

  A man who had once been unyielding, a man who had led an entire Dominion against her.

  Now kneeling in silent, horrified worship at the feet of Agony.

  It was almost poetic.

  Foxes let out a low whistle.

  “Well. That’s one problem dealt with.”

  Selene exhaled slowly.

  “No.”

  Foxes tilted his head. “No?”

  Selene’s golden eyes gleamed.

  “This was never about Brannor.”

  Her voice was calm.

  “Brannor was always going to fall.”

  She turned.

  “This was about the others.”

  ---

  The Ripple Effect

  The other Dominion Lords would know by now.

  They would have seen the signs.

  Felt the shift in the game.

  They had expected war.

  They had expected conflict.

  What they had not expected was for one of their strongest to vanish without a fight.

  The Iron Pact was gone.

  Not scattered.

  Not annihilated.

  Absorbed.

  Transformed.

  And that, more than anything, was what would send fear spiraling through their ranks.

  Because what Selene had done to Brannor—

  She could do to any of them.

  And now, they had two choices.

  Kneel willingly.

  Or wait until it happened anyway.

  ---

  Blackwell arrived at midday, his expression as unreadable as ever.

  He had commanded the defense of his own city.

  He had witnessed the fall of Brannor’s army firsthand.

  Selene watched as he approached the council chamber, his gaze sweeping the room, pausing only briefly on Agony.

  The Fae Lord did not speak.

  It never did unless it was necessary.

  It only watched.

  And so did Blackwell.

  ---

  The war council began as it always did.

  Strategy laid out the new power shifts.

  Sovereignty detailed the economic impacts of absorbing an entire Dominion.

  Foxes offered his usual commentary, half-mocking, half-serious.

  But Blackwell remained silent.

  Selene let him.

  She understood what he was thinking.

  That what had happened in his city had been the inevitable conclusion of this war.

  That they had already won.

  And the rest of the world just hadn’t realized it yet.

  ---

  Finally, when the reports were done, Blackwell spoke.

  “They won’t attack again,” he said simply.

  Foxes grinned. “No, they won’t.”

  Blackwell exhaled, rubbing his temples. “I should be relieved.”

  Selene tilted her head. “But?”

  Blackwell looked up at her.

  And in that moment, she saw the last traces of the man who had once ruled alone.

  The man who had once thought he could stand against her.

  He was tired.

  Not from battle.

  But from understanding.

  He let out a soft laugh, shaking his head.

  “They’re going to destroy themselves trying to stop you.”

  Selene smiled.

  “I know.”

  Because fear did not just paralyze.

  It did not just weaken.

  It made people reckless.

  And reckless men were the easiest to break.

  ---

  The Final Gambit

  The last Dominion Lords were already gathering.

  They had thought they could outmaneuver her.

  They had thought they could push her into a war of attrition.

  But now?

  Now, they were desperate.

  They had seen what had happened to Brannor.

  They had seen what Agony had done.

  And they knew they could not let it happen to them.

  So they would do what desperate men always did.

  They would gamble everything.

  Selene turned back to the map, tracing her fingers over the borders of her empire.

  “They will come soon,” she murmured.

  Sovereignty nodded. “They’ll attack with everything they have left.”

  Foxes stretched. “And when they do?”

  Selene smiled.

  “Then we will show them,” she said, voice soft but absolute.

  “That they were never fighting for victory.”

  She let her gaze drift to the horizon, where her enemies gathered.

  “They were only fighting to delay their surrender.”

  And now—

  That delay was over.