Inside the Soul Society — the Grand Hall of Convergence.

Hedrick sat at the head of a long, gleaming obsidian table that stretched deep into the chamber, one hand supporting the side of his face while his other drummed faintly against the polished surface. His posture was calm, but the silence surrounding him was heavy, almost oppressive.

Before him sat four other figures — two men and two women — each radiating a distinct aura of power. Yet even with all their might, none dared speak first.

For a long while, the five of them remained motionless, their eyes occasionally meeting in the dim golden light before drifting back down toward their hands, as if the very air between them demanded restraint. The echoes of the Spirit Society's energies shimmered faintly in the background — a silent hum that only emphasized how still the room had become.

At last, one of the women broke the stillness.

"So, the fifth sister," she said, her voice tinged with a mix of curiosity and irony. A faint smirk crossed her lips as she leaned back in her chair. "I heard you've started commanding four fleets now. That's quite the achievement. Congratulations."

"...Thank you." Helen's reply was brief, controlled, almost mechanical. Her tone carried no pride — only distance.

"Oh, really?" one of the men — the fourth son — burst into laughter, his voice echoing in the hall. "Now that's something! Four fleets, huh?" He tilted his head toward Helen, amusement glimmering in his eyes. "Tell us, Helen, how did you manage to gather that kind of strength? You didn't start using the daily marriage art that our eldest sister loves so much, did you? Heh-heh."

"What did you just say?!" The woman who spoke earlier shot up in outrage. Hillary pointed a sharp finger toward him, her tone filled with venom. "You—of all people—want to talk about how others build their strength? Don't make me laugh! Have you even managed to restore your authority as a Centenary Empire after drowning yourself in debt? After all those loans you begged for?"

"Enough." The second son finally spoke, his deep voice cutting through the tension like a blade. He looked between his three younger siblings, his gaze both weary and stern. "Can we not have a single meeting without tearing into each other? For once, can we act like what we were meant to be — kin, not rivals?"

"Hmph." Hillary folded her arms tightly, raising her chin with visible disdain. "Then go ahead and speak, since you seem so wise. You're the one who summoned us here, yet you've barely said a word since we entered this hall."

"It wasn't actually my idea," Hadeson — the second son — said as he gestured toward Helen with a tilt of his head. "It was our youngest sister's request. She asked me to call for a full assembly of the five of us. Apparently, she's the one who has something important to say."

"Me?" Helen's brows furrowed. She shook her head slightly, her tone calm but cool. "No, I have so say here. I only thought the time was right for our eldest brother to speak with us directly. That's all. It's him, after all, who decides everything. The final word always rests with the Eldest brother."

"..."

At that, all four of them turned toward Hedric.

Their expressions varied — curiosity, unease, a hint of resentment — yet beneath it all, there was the same unspoken truth.

They knew what he was going through.

They felt the gravity of his silence, the toll of his endless campaign.

Each of them had been watching his war unfold across the stars — moment by moment, year by year.

Each one had waited for that inevitable day when Hedrick would call upon them for aid — the day their brother's calm mask would finally crack.

Some had already prepared to answer that call, with fleets ready and armies gathered.

Others, however, had quietly prepared their excuses — reasons cloaked in logic, pride, or cowardice — for why they could not march to his side.

But that day never came.

The cosmic war had already entered its second decade. Entire galaxies had been reshaped by it. Yet not once had Hedrick asked them to send even a single arrow.

"Hm," Hedrick finally spoke, his deep voice filling the hall. "Little sister said you all had something to say, so I came." He straightened, lifting his head from his hand, his gaze sweeping over them like a storm ready to break. "But it seems I was mistaken. I have nothing to discuss with any of you either."

His tone hardened, quiet but cold. "If you have nothing meaningful to offer, then excuse me. I'll take my leave. I have more pressing matters to attend to — far more important than sitting here listening to empty words. And please... do not waste my time like this again."

He rose to his feet, his projection flickering with subtle power as he prepared to depart.

"Wait!" Hadeson called out abruptly, his voice trembling slightly as he took a step forward before Hedrick's image could vanish. "Brother! Do you really not need anything from us? Isn't there something we can do to help you?"

"No." The answer came instantly — sharp, final. Hedrick's expression didn't waver. Then, after a heartbeat, a faint smile curved across his lips, dry and cutting.

"What's this now? Do you all wish to play the part of the father? Offer me loans, then demand repayment tenfold later?"

He turned his gaze across them, that small smile twisting into something colder.

"He taught you well."

"We would never do that to you." The second brother spoke hastily, his voice tinged with desperation. "Just say the word — that's all it takes! Whatever you ask, we'll do it."

"Speak for yourself…" the third sibling, Hillary, muttered under her breath, her tone sharp but low.

"Don't worry," Hedrick said with a strange, humorless smile curling across his lips as his cold gaze shifted toward her. "I won't be bitten by the same serpent twice. I've learned." He leaned slightly forward, his voice lowering but filled with venom. "I once sacrificed my elite warriors, my closest companions, and half of Planet Shathar — all for your sake. And what did I receive in return? A dagger in my back before the blood of my soldiers even dried. Tell me, Hillary, how exactly do you expect me to trust you again?"

"First Brother," Hadeson interjected quickly, his tone defensive and anxious. "We never struck at you! All we did was retreat when the chance to return home presented itself! That wasn't just a chance to go back to Father — it was a chance to reclaim our thrones, to restore our families, our territories! How could we ignore that?"

Hedrick waved dismissively, his expression darkening. "That's your problem," he said coldly. "I poured everything I had into protecting your fragile, worthless lives — and you repaid me with betrayal the very next day. I can't even bear to look at your faces." His voice dropped, heavy and bitter. "I don't know what game you're playing by coming here — are you trying to justify why you never sent support? Or perhaps you're here to demand personal favors in exchange for false loyalty? Or maybe you just want to invent convenient lies to excuse your inaction, to maintain a thin illusion of brotherhood until the next time I have to shield you from Father's wrath again?"

Then he chuckled softly — a sound devoid of warmth. "But guess what? I'm not interested. I don't care what you think, and I care even less about what you do…" His eyes hardened. "For I have no brothers."

Hadeson lifted his hand carefully, trying to calm the moment. "Brother, please — put emotions aside for now," he said. "I have an offer, straight from Father himself. What if we—"

"Keep your offer," Heidric snapped. "You can choke on it for all I care."

Before anyone could respond, his projection flickered and vanished with a sharp whoosh, leaving a hollow echo behind.

"....." The remaining four were silent, exchanging uneasy glances.

"Hah~" Hadeson finally exhaled, rubbing the space between his brows in frustration. "I should've expected this."

The silence stretched again, thick and suffocating, until Hillary — as always — broke it first. She rolled her shoulders back, the golden light from the hall glinting off her bare skin. "Well," she said dryly, "I suppose the family reunion is over."

"Wait!" Helen suddenly raised both hands, her voice cutting through the tension. "You can't just end it like this! Aren't we going to do anything? You've all seen the recent reports — you know what's happening out there!"

Her tone grew sharper, more urgent. "Our First Brother officially declared that he needs the aid of the Behemoth of Purity, Kaylis, to repel the combined forces of the Savage Behemoth and the Behemoth of Curses that are mobilizing rapidly in Sector 102! Do you even realize what that means? Kaylis — of all beings — stands to gain the most from his downfall!"

"And what exactly do you expect us to do?" Harry let out a bitter laugh. "This is a war involving three Behemoths. Three. Do you think any of us can tip the balance? All we can do is offer moral support, and it's obvious even that doesn't matter anymore. The First Brother doesn't see us as siblings."

"He did see you as siblings when he sheltered you from Father's wrath!" Helen snapped, her voice rising with anger. "If it weren't for him, you wouldn't even be alive, let alone have the chance to rebuild your realms! How can you just stand there and do nothing while he's out there fighting for his life?"

"It's not that we don't want to little sister,," Hadeson said, his tone weary but sincere. "It's that he doesn't. I came here ready — mentally and strategically — to offer him ten full fleets. Ten! Even though I'm already at war with an alliance of two Centennial Empires that's been raging for centuries. But he refuses. He won't even let us try."

"...I wasn't even born during those days," Helen said quietly, her expression tightening. "But tell me — did each of you not go to him personally when Father turned his blade on you and your kingdoms? Did you not beg him to protect you when no one else dared stand up to Father and his elite guard? Tell me, who else will you turn to if Father rises against you again?"

Her eyes burned with conviction. "I say we stop waiting for him to call. I say we form a united front and march to his aid immediately. Whether he wants it or not, we'll be there when the tide turns."

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