The first thing one saw was not the city below.

It was the one above.

Suspended in the sky like a heresy against the laws of nature, the floating capital dominated the horizon with an almost divine presence, its elongated pillars piercing the clouds while vast blocks of earth hovered around the main structure, connected by ethereal bridges and chains covered in ancient vegetation. The architecture was grandiose, made of light stone that reflected the sky's light as if sculpted not by human hands, but by pure will. Tall towers, ornate domes, and structures that looked more like temples than buildings rose in layers, each one higher than the last, as if the entire city were constantly trying to reach something beyond the firmament itself.

This was Elytherion.

The city that touched the sky.

The seat of Danthelion's absolute power.

And yet… it was not the only one.

Below it, far below, anchored to the physical world, existed another city—vast, dense, pulsating with life and movement. Unlike the almost untouchable serenity of Elytherion, the lower city was noisy, alive, marked by markets, soldiers, merchants, travelers, and structures that grew in a more organic, less perfect, more… human way. Its walls were wide and sturdy, its neighborhoods expanded in concentric layers, and its paths were filled with a constant current of activity that never truly ceased.

This was Valdros.

The city that held up the sky.

The two were not separate.

They were interdependent.

Colossal, almost living currents descended from the base of Elytherion, connecting to specific towers in Valdros, not as mere physical supports, but as conduits—of energy, of power, of something deeper that kept the floating city in its place. Furthermore, elevating platforms, magical pathways, and vertical transportation structures allowed those authorized to move between the two levels… though few truly had that privilege.

And above all of this— 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝒆𝒘𝙚𝓫𝙣𝙤𝒗𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

Above Elytherion—

There was silence.

A strange silence.

Almost reverent.

Because that city was not just a construction.

It was a statement.

Centuries ago, when Danthelion was still fragmented, divided between unstable territories and constant conflicts, it was a single figure who completely changed the course of history: the Celestial Emperor.

His true name had been lost.

Or perhaps… purposefully erased.

It was said that he not only conquered Danthelion, but rewrote it. That he did not raise Elytherion with tools, but with absolute mastery over forces that most did not even comprehend. The Spirit World, the laws of gravity, the very boundaries between matter and energy—everything had been bent, rearranged, refined until that city could exist.

Elytherion wasn't built.

It was imposed upon reality.

Valdros came later.

As a base.

As support.

As a reminder.

Because, despite all the ascension, the Emperor never allowed Danthelion to forget where it came from. The lower city maintained the flow of life, commerce, and growth, while the upper one remained the center of absolute power—where decisions were made, destinies were altered, and forces beyond common comprehension were controlled.

Between the two cities, there was a clear hierarchy.

But there was also a silent tension.

Because not everyone looked up with reverence.

Some looked with ambition.

And others… with distrust.

And at that moment—

With the wind cutting through the sky around the floating islands, carrying with it fragments of mist and the distant echo of a city that never slept—

The capital of Danthelion remained there.

Majestic.

Imposing.

And dangerously alive.

"I understand…" Strax spoke as he listened, along with Ouroboros, Tiamat, and Scarlet. "So the guy is really powerful."

Agnes, who had told this, nodded, "He's extraordinary. We don't have much information, but he's always accompanied by the strongest people on the continent."

The silence that followed wasn't one of doubt.

It was one of calculation.

Strax kept his gaze fixed on the open illustration on the table—the detailed depiction of Elytherion hovering over Valdros seemed almost alive under the office light, as if the image itself carried a fragment of the real presence of that place. His fingers rested close to the page, without touching it, but also without moving away, as if he were measuring something beyond what was being shown.

It wasn't just a city.

It was a system.

A structure conceived, sustained, and protected by someone who understood much more than brute force.

"...we need to go there," he repeated, now a little quieter, as if confirming it to himself, not to others.

Agnes crossed her arms, shifting her weight to one leg as she watched his reaction intently, her eyes analyzing not only the words but the rhythm behind them.

"It won't be simple," she said, her voice firm but without direct opposition. "Valdros is accessible, relatively. But Elytherion…"

She tilted her head slightly.

"...it's not a place you just walk into."

Scarlet, who was leaning further back, slowly ran her fingers through the air, tracing a small, almost invisible pattern of energy, as if testing something only she could perceive.

"The currents aren't just physical," she commented, without looking directly at anyone. "They're charged with binding magic… and vigilance."

Her eyes then turned to the book.

"Anything that rises… is felt."

Ouroboros made a small nasal sound, crossing his arms as he observed the image with more restrained interest than usual. Her eyes weren't gleaming with obsession as before—they were more… analytical.

"Then we climb up in a way that doesn't look like an invasion," she said matter-of-factly, as if she were talking about something simple, though it clearly wasn't.

Tiamat chuckled softly through her nose.

"You talk like it's easy."

"It's not," Ouroboros replied immediately. "But it's not impossible either."

Strax finally moved.

He closed the book with a dry, but not aggressive, sound, and then leaned back slightly in his chair, looking at each of them for a few seconds, as if he were organizing not just the plan… but the pieces.

"We're not going to force our way in," he said.

Straightforward.

Simple.

Tiamat raised an eyebrow.

"Are you sure?"

He looked at her.

And a slight smile appeared at the corner of his lips.

"For now."

Silence.

Scarlet was the first to react, a small smile appearing as she crossed her arms.

"Then let's play their game."

Agnes let out a light sigh, but nodded.

"That means going through Valdros first."

She pointed slightly to the map drawn on the next page of the book, now visible even partially closed.

"The lower city is where everything happens. Trade, information, movement. If we want to understand how Elytherion works…"

She looked up.

"...we start from the bottom."

Strax nodded.

"Exactly."

Ouroboros slowly uncrossed her arms, taking a step forward, moving a little closer to the table as her eyes scanned the details of the map more attentively now.

"...and the Emperor?" she asked, without looking away. "Do you intend to go straight to him?"

Strax was silent for a moment.

A single moment.

But it was enough for everyone to realize that the answer wasn't simple.

"...no," he finally said.

And then his eyes narrowed slightly.

"I want to see first."

Tiamat tilted her head.

"See what?"

Strax rested his elbow on the table, his gaze now distant for a second, as if projecting something beyond that space.

"If he's really worth it."

The silence that followed was… different.

Not tense.

But charged.

Because that wasn't an empty phrase.

It was a real assessment.

Scarlet let out a low chuckle.

"You're going to assess the Celestial Emperor."

"Yes," Strax replied, without hesitation.

Agnes brought her hand to her face for a moment, rubbing her temple as if she could already foresee future complications.

"...this is going to be trouble," she murmured.

Tiamat smiled.

A small smile. But genuine.

"It's going to be interesting."

Ouroboros didn't smile.

But his eyes focused again.

More aligned.

More present.

"...when do we leave?" she asked.

Strax stood up.

Without haste.

But with determination.

"Soon," he replied, taking a few steps toward the office window, from where part of Asgard stretched below.

His gaze lifted slightly, as if he could somehow already see beyond the mountains, beyond the distances… to that city suspended in the sky.

"And this time…"

He paused briefly.

"...we'll do it right."

Behind him, the group remained silent for a moment.

Not out of hesitation.

But because everyone there knew—

This wasn't just a trip.

It was the beginning of something bigger.

Much bigger.

And, somewhere far away—

Above the clouds—

Elytherion remained.

Waiting.

Or perhaps… watching. …

The sky around Elytherion was different.

Not just because of the altitude, nor the way the clouds seemed to curve around the floating city, avoiding direct contact, as if recognizing its superiority. There was something more subtle—a constant, almost imperceptible pressure that hung in the air like an invisible layer between the physical world and something beyond it.

There… everything was felt before it was seen.

At the highest point of one of the outer towers, where the wind ran free and sharp, a figure stood motionless.

A woman.

Her long, light hair danced around her body in the force of the wind, but she didn't move to restrain it, nor did she seem bothered. Her posture was erect, elegant, her hands resting gently in front of her body, like someone in constant contemplation—not of the world below, but of something far more distant.

Her eyes were open.

But not focused.

They scanned the horizon.

Far beyond the mountains.

Far beyond the known lands.

Far beyond… the visible.

The silence around her was absolute.

Not even the guards patrolling the lower levels dared approach that specific point of the tower, as if there were an unspoken agreement that that space… belonged to her.

For a few moments, nothing happened.

Only the wind.

Only the sky.

And then—

She frowned slightly.

It was a minimal movement.

Almost imperceptible.

But enough to break the perfect stillness she had maintained until then.

"...this…", she murmured, her voice low, soft, but laden with a sudden attention that hadn't been there before.

Her fingers moved slightly, as if touching something invisible in the air.

Feeling.

Tracking.

Confirming.

Her gaze intensified.

Now focused.

Now present. Directed toward a specific point on the horizon—a point so distant that, to anyone else, it would be just another empty expanse of sky.

But not to her.

"...it's not just one," she continued, still in a low voice, as if speaking to herself, organizing the perception that reached her in successive waves.

She took a deep breath.

And then slowly released the air.

"There are several."

A pause.

A longer one.

A denser one.

And then—

A slight smile appeared at the corner of her lips.

It wasn't exactly joy.

But it wasn't worry either.

It was… interest.

"...dragons."

The word was spoken clearly now.

Certainly.

With recognition.

Her eyes narrowed slightly, as if trying to see even deeper in that direction, as if wanting to cross the very distance and touch the origin of that presence.

"And many of them…," she finished, almost in a whisper.

The wind intensified around the tower, swirling more forcefully between the structures, causing parts of the overhanging vegetation on the nearby islands to stir more intensely, as if reacting to the same perception.

She didn't move.

But her presence… changed.

Something about her aligned.

Like a piece that finally found its place in a larger mechanism.

"…this is unusual," she murmured again, now with a slight trace of curiosity more evident.

Her eyes gleamed for a moment.

Subtle.

But perceptible.

"Are these the Celestial Emperor's guests?…"