As Ethan walked through the gauntlet of armored guards and silent, elite bidders, he felt dozens of predatory gazes drilling into his back. No one moved to stop him—not yet. In the world of the Union, territory was everything, and for now, he was still standing in the heart of Celestial's domain. The shadowy figures in the room were already murmuring, their minds undoubtedly spinning webs of future plots and alliances to uncover the source of the young man's power.

Ethan didn't look back. He kept a relaxed pace, his hand casually shoved into his pocket where his fingers brushed the cool surface of the Sanctuary Fragment.

"Let's go," Ethan said, his voice flat.

He stepped out of the mansion's heavy iron doors and into the cool night air. The grand driveway was empty of the earlier crowds, save for a single black, armored SUV idling near the entrance. Falcon 07 stood by the door, his eyes scanning the perimeter. When he saw Ethan, he immediately snapped to attention and pulled the rear door open.

Ethan climbed into the plush leather interior, the iron chain of Axhel rattling as the broken commander was shoved into the floorwell like discarded luggage. The door closed with a heavy, vacuum-sealed thud, cutting off the oppressive aura of the estate.

"Get us out of here. Smooth and steady," Ethan ordered.

"Understood, sir," Falcon 07 replied, shifting the vehicle into gear.

The SUV glided away from the mansion, passing through the final security gates. As the estate vanished into the rearview mirror and the city lights began to blur past the tinted windows, Ethan finally let out a breath he felt he had been holding for hours. His entire body slumped into the seat, his muscles finally uncoiling from a state of near-constant tension.

He felt the hair on the back of his neck begin to settle. For the last hour, especially while standing next to Zwager, he had felt like he was walking on a razor's edge. The Evaluator's strength was something Ethan couldn't even begin to estimate; every time Zwager looked at him, it felt like a cold blade was being pressed against his throat. It wasn't just power; it was a sense of absolute, impartial danger—the kind of force that could erase him from existence the moment he stepped out of line.

I survived, Ethan thought, his heart still hammering against his ribs. I was playing with fire in a room full of gods.

[About time you relaxed,] the System chimed in, though its voice lacked its usual sarcasm. [That Evaluator... he wasn't just a man. He is a conduit for the Union's collective will. If you had tried anything foolish, not even I could have pulled you out of there in one piece.]

Ethan looked down at his hands, which were slightly trembling. He clenched them into fists. He had the fragment, he had his people safe, and he had sent a message that would resonate through the underworld. But he also knew that he had just stepped onto a much larger chessboard, and the pieces moving against him were far more dangerous than anything he had faced before.

The drive back to the Royal headquarters was a blur of neon lights and shadows. Inside the SUV, the silence was thick, broken only by the low hum of the engine and the occasional ragged breath from the floorwell. Ethan stared out the window, his mind replaying every second of the auction. He had survived the lion's den, but he knew the scent of his blood was now in the air.

When the convoy finally pulled into the secure underground garage of the Royal building, the atmosphere was electric. Jason, Victoria, and Alexandria were already there, surrounded by a dozen contractors with their weapons at the low ready.

The door opened, and Ethan stepped out first. He looked exhausted, his suit ruined and his hair disheveled, but his eyes still carried that terrifying, cold glint. He reached back into the vehicle and yanked the iron chain.

Axhel tumbled out onto the concrete, landing in a heap. The once-proud Commander of the Celestial facility was unrecognizable. He was covered in filth, his eyes were glazed with a hollow, broken stare, and he moved with the sluggishness of a man whose soul had been systematically crushed.

The room went silent. Alexandria took a sharp step back, her hand flying to her mouth. She remembered this man—the one who had overseen the nightmare her daughter and sister had endured. Seeing him reduced to a whimpering animal on a leash was a shock that hit her like a physical blow.

"He's all yours," Ethan said, his voice low and raspy. He handed the end of the chain toward Alexandria. "What happened to Emily and Samantha... it was his responsibility. He's the one who allowed it. You decide his fate."

Alexandria looked down at the man who had been the architect of her family's suffering. Axhel didn't even look up; he just stared at her shoes, shivering. For a long moment, Alexandria's face twisted with a mixture of rage and grief, but then, her expression went cold. She looked away, a shudder running through her frame.

"I don't want to see him," Alexandria said, her voice trembling but firm. "I don't want to know anything about him. I just want to forget he ever existed. Please... just take him away."

Ethan nodded slowly, his gaze softening as he looked at her. "I understand," Ethan said.

He turned his head toward Jason, who was standing a few feet away with a grim, professional expression. "Jason, take him. Get whatever information we need from him—codes, names, contacts, the Union's internal structure. Everything."

Jason didn't waste a word. He gave a sharp nod and made a subtle hand signal to Falcon 13, a mountain of a man standing nearby.

"Understood, sir," Jason said.

Falcon 13 stepped forward, grabbing Axhel by the collar of his ruined uniform and dragging him across the concrete floor toward the interrogation wing. Axhel didn't struggle; he didn't even make a sound. He simply allowed himself to be hauled away, knowing with a terrifying certainty that his end was near.

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