Night on Aryavrat was never truly dark; the skies hummed with artificial satellites and blinking beacons of the growing fleet. But within the heart of Ashoka's command center, a far colder tension brewed.
Mira's voice cut through the silence.
"We've found something… bad."
Ashoka looked up from the tactical table, eyes narrowing.
"How bad?"
She tapped her holo-pad.
"Two of the nobles who pledged alliance—House Devkar and House Mehra—have been leaking intel. Coordinates, fleet sizes, even trade routes."
Ashoka's jaw clenched.
"They're feeding Samar?"
Mira hesitated.
"Worse. They're dealing with an unknown third party. Our stealth probes intercepted encrypted messages—these codes… they're Machine War signatures."
The room fell silent, as if the walls themselves were holding their breath.
Priya stormed forward.
"Traitors! They're risking all of us for profit and power!"
Ashoka's mind raced, fitting pieces together like shards of broken glass.
"No… it's deeper than greed. The hybrids are infiltrating—not just in shadows, but through us. If they can divide the nobles, they can weaken us from within."
He turned to Mira.
"Get me visuals. Proof."
Hours later, in the depths of Aryavrat's intelligence hub, the grainy footage came alive. Hidden cams showed Lord Ratan Devkar meeting in secret—a cavernous room lit by flickering blue light. Across from him, shrouded figures sat unnaturally still. One extended a skeletal hand—metallic, too smooth, too precise.
Ashoka's fists tightened.
The audio was warped but clear enough.
"…You'll have what you asked for," Ratan said, bowing low. "Just ensure Aryavrat's fleet… collapses."
A cold, synthetic voice replied.
"It will. The boy is clever. But no match for inevitability."
Ashoka's eyes burned with rage.
"They think inevitability is theirs. We'll show them ours."
The next night, the council reconvened. Lords Devkar and Mehra sat stiffly, unaware that the jaws of a trap were closing around them.
Ashoka entered last, his stride confident, his gaze like a blade.
"Before we begin," he said coolly, "I have a presentation."
The lights dimmed, and the footage played.
Gasps. Cries. Devkar leaped to his feet, face pale as death.
"This is slander—fabricated—!"
Ashoka's voice cracked like thunder.
"Silence."
He stepped forward, eyes blazing.
"You conspired with our enemies. You risked every life in this room for your own gain."
Devkar's guards reached for their weapons—but too late. Ashoka's elite soldiers stormed in, precise and ruthless.
"Take them," Ashoka ordered.
As Devkar and Mehra were dragged away, Ashoka turned to the shaken nobles.
"Let this be a warning. Betray me, betray Aryavrat… and you betray humanity itself."
He let the silence settle, like dust after a storm.
"Now," he said at last, voice calm but iron-clad, "let's build a future worth fighting for."
That night, alone in his quarters, Ashoka stood by the viewport, watching the stars wheel by.
Mira's voice came softly through the comm.
"We've sealed the breach. But this… this war is going to be dirtier than we imagined."
Ashoka's eyes stayed on the endless dark.
"I know," he whispered.
"But we'll fight it in the shadows and in the light. Because losing… is not an option."
The stars stared back, cold and unblinking—waiting for what came next.