Hour 1

News had spread furiously all throughout the palace as the sun of New Beijing slowly descended, the bruise-colored night sky creeping into the azure-gold atmosphere as if to mirror the current state of the palace. Servants and employees, although they were unaware of what the true emergency was, quietly saw to the needs of the politicians that were there. Windows were closed, conference connections secured, and water and tea brought back and forth from rooms to kitchens.

Catherine swept up her skirt, the tray of tea that she was holding balancing precariously on her arm. There was only ten minutes left in her shift, and she was anxious to hurry back to her new quarters. Princess Selene had been immensely kind to her, keeping her promises of a new job and new quarters. What the princess could not have forseen or stopped, however, was the amount of gossip from the other servants. Catherine felt their eyes on her every time she went down to the kitchen or down to the servant's parlor to fetch tea or towels.

Today had been her first day back from Channary's ship. Because she had been crammed into the tiny cell for such an extended period of time, her feet were sore and cramped, affecting her speed and giving her a limping gait. She hadn't expected everyone to tolerate her when she had gone to the kitchen to pour tea for Keal O'Pierce. Even so, she had never expected what she had gotten.

She had paused right before the kitchen on the steps leading to it, letting out a breath to rest her feet. Then she had heard distinct voices coming from the room, picking them out from the sounds of boiling water and roaring flames.

"So she was there? On the ship?" A horrified voice, low in tone but sweet. Teara, Catherine guessed. She remembered her, particularly because of her height. Teara, although younger than Catherine by two years, was at least five inches taller than her.

"Yes! And I heard that she ate their food and slept there! How do we know that she isn't-" the voice was lowered "-hasn't been poisoned by them?" The voice continued, matter-of-factly. "Besides, even if she wasn't- and I think that the chances of that are lower than me marrying Prince Kai-" (Laughter from the other servants in the room) "-I would send her out anyway. She's too much of a threat, isn't she? She's already been near them. They could manipulate her more easily. It's too risky."

Cat felt her face heat up. Of course. Only Fang Lin would say things like that behind people's backs. Fang Lin was the oldest serving girl in the kitchen, and if Cat wasn't more clueless about the men that ran to and fro from the basements, she would say that Fang Lin was the oldest of all the servants. Fang Lin wasn't even old; she was only in her mid-twenties. The problem with Fang Lin was that she was a (nicely put) bitch to work with. She wasn't rude or condescending; the problem was that she loved her gossip too much. She wasn't a bad person at heart; Cat knew that Fang Lin would stay late for the servants that were working late shifts and save some fried dough and condensed milk for them.

No. Cat's real problem with Fang Lin was that she constantly talked behind her colleague's backs about them. Whether it was about how Adriana, the new cook, had eloped with Beatrice, Advisor Konn Torin's maid, or about how Richard Tong, the young aspiring politician in Central New Beijing, had tried to coerce a maid into spending the night with him (and she had almost agreed), Fang Yin knew it all and said it all. And Cat couldn't stand it. It was no surprise to her that Fang Yin was the source of the gossip chain anyway. She had almost expected it.

"That's unfair." A voice rose up from the murmurs, and Cat felt her face redden. There was no true explanation that made sense to her about why her face was suddenly the color of the Commonwealth flag. It was just there. It was just happening.

"We shouldn't judge her just because she fell into some unfortunate problems." The voice continued, smoothly vehement. Cat knew who it was. She just didn't want to think about it. It was better if she didn't. "We don't know what she went through. She could have been tortured, starved, anything. Maybe we should have more compassion for her."

Fang Lin snorted. "So? She's still a danger. And besides, I heard that that princess herself brought her back. That just screams conspiracy. Besides, no one is going to listen to Catherine anymore. If she's thrown her lot in with them, she's dead to us."

Catherine couldn't help herself. Nearly tripping over the hem of her skirt in her rage, she had quickly regained her balance. Fang Lin's back had been facing the doorway, making her unaware to Catherine's presence, but the thirty or so other servants that had been crowded in there collectively shrunk back (save for one). Fang Lin whipped back, and her face had paled and then reddened.

"I'm glad you have your own version of what happened," said Catherine, her voice trembling with barely withheld anger. "But if you'll excuse me, all I came to do was to fetch the tea for Representative Keal O'Pierce." Cat made her way slowly to the back, where the dazed chef, his eyes flitting from Cat to Fang Yin and then back to Catherine, handed her the delicate silver platter. Equally as slow, Cat made her way back to the doorway, making sure to avoid eye contact with everyone, but one person in particular.

As she was just about to step out, Fang Lin called out, "Don't think that we don't know about your loyalties."

That did it for Catherine. Whirling back, her face was entirely red with rage and her entire body was shaking. (Later, to her surprise, she would realize that none of the tea had spilled, which made it all the more frightening.) Storming over to Fang Yin, she snapped, "If you wanted to judge me, you wouldn't have sneaked it behind my back like a coward." Whipping her head back, Catherine made her way out, the old wooden steps creaking haphazardly under her as she stalked upstairs.

But once she was in front of Keal O'Pierce's room, she felt only a weariness that shouldn't have been there. She should have been buzzed, filled with adrenaline. Wasn't that what anger did to you? Fill you up, drain you out, and then fill you up again? But her anger had been like an earthquake; rumbling fear drowning out the cries of the victims until the peak of the disaster collapsed everything in sight, silencing the protests. But however terrible an earthquake was, it was always fleeting. And typically, none followed after the previous. It was as if the Earth mirrored Catherine's emotions, rising and receding to match her moods. Or perhaps Catherine was at the will of the Earth, rising and falling with it.

Screw this. It was too much to handle, and Catherine shouldn't have even been upset. It wasn't as if they had been threatening to kill her, after all, was it? After everything that Selene had gone through for her, she could handle a little gossip. She was just glad to be alive. She just wished that the others knew that.

Trapping the tray by pressing her hand against the silver metal so that it was pressed into the wall, stuck between her palm and the brick, she used her free hand to smooth down the front of her outfit. Replacing the tray onto her arm, she was about to knock when she heard something that sent a chill down her bones.

"But that's the thing! Rikan is dying, and his son isn't even prepared to receive the throne yet. We need to do something."

Catherine froze. She recognized the thick Irish accent of Keal O'Pierce. There must have been other people in the room as well, because she heard shuffling and murmuring. What did he mean? Emperor Rikan was dying?

Letumosis, Catherine realized with a jolt, almost causing her to drop the tray. It was the most likely. But if Emperor Rikan had caught letumosis from inside the palace, what did that mean for everyone else? Hastily recovering her balance, Catherine pressed her ear to the door (perhaps her anger had left remnants of recklessness).

More shuffling. More murmuring. Then, Chedelina Gare's upperclass English accent broke through. "Keal, I appreciate you calling this meeting to tell us about Emperor Rikan, but I still don't feel comfortable being here without at least Deshal Huy or Konn Torin. We are at the heart of the Eastern Commonwealth, and we are losing their trust, not to mention our own dignity, just by convening in secret here."

"But we're not convening in secret," O'Pierce pointed out. "The security tape is on. They could rewind and see us here. We're not hiding anything; we just want to figure out what exactly is happening with our current host. Whatever affects Rikan affects the Eastern Commonwealth, and whatever affects the Commonwealth affects us."

The deep voice of Jamal Nuy broke through. "Perhaps Chedelina is right, Keal. We should not stay in here long; Konn will be wondering where we are."

"But I'm on the same page you are, Keal," Trewett Litchfield's booming voice sounded almost comical as he attempted to whisper. "What are we going to do about Prince Kai?"

"If you're suggesting that we marry him off to some rich politician's daughter, I vote no." Samantha Williamson's straightforward voice broke through. "This isn't the First Era, Keal. We're a united democracy globally, whether you like it or not. There are some things you should accept as right and wrong."

"But it isn't wrong, necessarily," argued Litchfield. "It's for his own good. I've met the boy. There's nothing he wouldn't do for his Commonwealth. He would gladly engage himself to someone else if it meant that he could save his country."

"And what if it was your daughter that was forcefully betrothed to someone without a second thought, Trewett? Wouldn't you second-guess?" Gare's careful voice inturrupted. "I agree with Samantha on this one. I know Kai as well as any of you. I think that he has proven himself to be a capable young man with a clear plan on how to approach crises. I trust his decisions."

"He is twenty-one! None of us were just twenty-one when we were elected!" Litchfield made a move to slam his hand down on the table, but O'Pierce grabbed his wrist before it came down.

"Calm yourself, Trewett. We are still under the Commonwealth's hospitality."

Litchfield looked irritated, but he relented, drawing his hand back. "All right. Fine. What about Princess Selene?"

There was insurmountable silence from all of them. Then, Gare began hesitantly, "That was our original plan, Trewett. To betroth Prince Kai and Princess Selene. But in light of recent events, we were shocked. . . " she trailed off hesitantly, but Nuy picked up.

"We were put off by how difficult Queen Channary was."

Unwillingly, Catherine shuddered at the mere mention of Channary's name. She pressed her ear closer to the door. Murmurs of assent and agreement drifted around the room as Nuy's words settled in.

There was a sharp intake of breath from one of the representatives, and then, Keal O'Pierce spoke again. "But I've met the princess. She seems quite mature, and-"

Catherine lost her grip on the plate, and the tray clanged against the wall. Catherine dove for it, at the same time as the door opened and she was caught stumbling, desperately trying to balance the plate. Samantha Williamson stood in the doorway, looking puzzled as Catherine adjusted her clothes (once again). Face burning, Catherine stood straight up again, not daring to look too closely at Williamson. Demurely, she handed the tray over and timidly said, "Mr. O'Pierce requested some tea."

She didn't stay for a response.

Catherine couldn't speedwalk fast enough to escape the burning shame that was reflected on her poor face.

Hour 2

When Kai heard, he couldn't even make it into the examination room. Instead, he collapsed onto the hard, pristine tiled floor outside of it. Hugging his knees, he rocked back and forth. "No," he mumbled, unconsciously moving his hands to his forehead. "No, this isn't happening. It's not real, this isn't-"

Torin watched Kai slowly break down, something stirring inside of him. Rikan was his oldest friend; he had known both Rikan and his wife and Kai all their lives. He had watched Kai grow up, even play babysitter for him when both of his parents were busy. This was a boy (and in Torin's eyes, Kai was still a boy) that he had taken care of for twenty-one years. But now, at this moment, when Kai needed him the most, he was unable to move.

Torin was the first to know. After Channary's departure, a servant had sprinted to him, panting out news of the emperor's collapse in his own study. Torin had rushed there, and it became apparent that he was the only one who had heard. No one else, not any of the officers or chairmen, had arrived yet. Torin had slowed his breathing down for a few seconds before turning to the servant.

"Do you know what he collapsed of?" Torin cursed his own mind as the sentence came out choppy and unclear. "Do you know what caused His Majesty to collapse?" Torin hastily rephrased.

The servant shook his head, his fingers trembling (out of fear, Torin guessed. He wasn't old enough to remember a time when the emperor wasn't eternally healthy). "I thought it might have been from the heat."

"No, that's unlikely. This room is air conditioned, and even if it broke down, the cool environment already trapped in this room would have remained for several hours." Torin's hand crept to his chin to scratch at it before he could remember that he had shaved just that morning. Sighing mostly out of frustration, he turned to the young servant. "Search the palace for Deshal Huy and the other board members. Enlist the help of some of your fellow servants if you must, but do not tell them about the emperor. Understand?"

The servant nodded. "Yes, Torin-daren." He scurried off, leaving Torin alone in the room. Even from his faraway point of view, Torin knew that something was wrong with the Emperor. He wasn't old enough to have serious health problems. He was only 50. Maybe it had something to do with the recent visits from Luna. It was as if Rikan had aged thirty years in a span of three weeks.

Torin had his suspicions about Rikan's sudden fainting spell. However, they weren't confirmed until he noticed the blue spot creeping its way down from under the Emperor's coat sleeve.

But that had been too long ago, it seemed. Now, standing in front of Kai, Rikan could only feel despair as he kept his eyes fixed on the crown prince. He wasn't sure what to do with Kai. Well, it wasn't so much as what to do as it was how to stop Kai from crying. Kai was the crown prince of the Eastern Commonwealth, and the title meant ten times more than it had three hours ago. Now more than ever, Kai was so close to the throne. Close enough to crown him emperor and end the whole thing.

But Kai couldn't very well rule from a fetal position on the floor. Hunching his shoulders forward, Torin walked over slowly to Kai. Placing his hands on his shoulders so that he could help Kai into a sitting position, Torin coaxed Kai's face up. Kai's eyes were already bloodshot and his cheeks a frightening mix of pale and red. It was like looking a sunburnt net-drama teen heartthrob.

Torin let out a subdued sigh. "Kai, please." His voice came out, weak and pleading. "I know this is hard, but your father- he's in there. He needs support, especially from you."

Kai stared at him, and Torin was suddenly seized with a sense of guilt. Kai looked a decade younger, his eyes wide with fear and distress, and his face plump with after-crying swelling. Kai looked like the young boy that Torin comforted, played with, and bandaged every time after knees were scraped.

How was it possible that this boy could grow up so fast in such a short period of time?

Finally Kai made a move to stand up. Stumbling slightly, he turned back to Torin. "I'm ready."

Torin looked at him, his own heart pounding with worry. "Kai, just be careful." As an afterthought, Torin fished out his handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to Kai. Kai managed a watery smile before he took it, smearing the delicate silk with his tears. (Torin made a mental note to handwash it later.) Handing it back to Torin, Kai sniffed one last time and opened the door into the stark white examination room.

Torin stuffed the handkerchief back into his pocket and followed, shutting the door gently behind him. Already Kai had headed to the middle of the room, where a glass wall separated both Kai and Torin from the letumosis-ridden emperor.

Rikan had been kept in bed, with an army of androids seeing to his every basic need. However, Torin couldn't imagine that the emperor could be comfortable, even with the reassurances that he would be cared for. Rikan's hospital bed and androids were surrounded by bulletproof reinforced glass, which were oxygen tight. The only way for air to come in or out was through a pipe attached to the ceiling light. All in all, it was a melancholy room, and Torin had decided that he would rather sit through eight straight board meeting than spend one hour in the examination room.

Rikan saw his son, and he smiled. "Kai," he said, and Torin noticed that the emperor's voice was still strong, despite his sickness. "Are you alright?"

Kai stared for a second, then looked down before answering. "I'm fine, but what about you?" He lifted his head again. "You're- you're-"

"-like an old man?" Rikan smiled again, and the hint of a mirroring smile was reflected on Kai's own face. "I might look like one, but I feel far from it, Kai."

"But you're sick."

"Yes, but the sickness can only separate us so far. When you were sick, I came to visit you everyday, didn't I?"

"Yes, but that was the common cold. This is- this is-" Kai's voice became slowly more breathy and raw, and Torin was afraid that he would break before the conversation even ended. "This is letumosis, Dad. No one comes out of it alive."

(It had been a long time since Torin had heard Kai refer to his father as "Dad." It only emphasized the omnipresent storm hanging over their heads in the examination room.)

"No one yet, Kai. " the emperor's voice was firm. "We are much luckier than some others, Kai. We are living in this palace, entitled to many more things than our lesser counterparts. We are living in an age of medicinal miracles. If there is an antidote, we will find it."

Torin noticed how the emperor deliberately left out his own prediction of his own fate.

Kai stared at something past Rikan before answering. "And what if an antidote isn't found before you-" Kai froze, closing his mouth abruptly.

"Before I die?" Rikan's voice was soft and fragile. Kai fixed his eyes on the emperor's, and Torin was suddenly struck by the resemblance between father and son. The soft eyes, the sharp chin, the strong jaw. There was too much shared between Kai and Rikan for Torin to truly picture them apart. Perhaps that was the true problem.

"Maybe I will die before the antidote is found, Kai. But that does not mean that there is not one out there. Even if it is found a second after my death, I will still be grateful that it was found. I am one person in a sea of almost eight billion afflicted with the same illness. If we can save eight billion people at the expense of one person, I would be willing to part with this world for the greater good."

Hour 3

The weight of the oak door swung itself closed, the doorframe shaking ever so slightly at the burden.

Elissa backed away, reaching a hand up to brush a hair out of her eyes as she walked toward the balcony doors, pushing them closed as well. "You're sure about this?"

Aiden was still—almost too still. Yet there was a nervous energy surrounding him, and his next words were said with an undertone of tentativeness. "Yes. The Earthern Representatives have already called a meeting in the Northwest conference room."

Had it been any other time, Elissa would have teased him about his uncanny knowledge of the people of the palace. Unfortunately, it was far from that time. "How far along is the Emperor?"

"They're saying first stage, and almost to second when they found him, but the scientists are rushing to try to slow down the process. They're keeping the king in an almost airtight room, and no people are allowed in the room with him. Only androids, and they're keeping him fluid-loaded."

"He's too young to die." Elissa's words came out softer than usual, and even she was surprised at the contrast.

Thanks, pregnancy. I'm losing my edge already.

Aiden frowned, and Elissa knew that he was considering her words. "The sickness takes the innocent. We can't do anything."

"Can't we, Aiden? Isn't there a solution for every problem?" Elissa stepped closer, until she was staring up at Aiden's handsome features. He was tenser than usual, and she could see it in the way that his chin tightened up when she came close. His face turned slightly away from her, as if he couldn't bear to look at her.

Elissa reached up, her fingers grazing his stubbled jawline. It was enough to bring him back. He turned, and Elissa could see the hurt, the fear, the pain in his eyes, unbound and unbidden. He drew his own hand out of his pocket, and closed his fingers around Elissa's wrist, pulling her hand away from his face.

"What are we doing, Elissa?" Aiden whispered, running his calloused fingers against her softer knuckles. "You're here, I'm here, and we shouldn't be, and you're—"

"—don't," cautioned Elissa quietly. "It's not safe."

Aiden's fingers tighted around hers. "We should have stayed on Luna."

"And would things be better, Aiden? We'd face the same amount of strange looks and gossip that we have here."

"At least on Luna I know you're safe."

At this Elissa snorted. "That's not true. Say I get in the way of an execution. Say Selene accidentally tells me to do something outrageous during lessons. Say Channary wants someone to row her across Artemesia Lake and drive her into the regolith mines. Shit happens."

"But at least I know what we're dealing with!" Aiden drew back, his hand dropping hers. He wrung his hands in the air. "Liss, we are alone here. We have practically no jurisdiction here without violating the set treaties, and we're facing a pandemic that just so happens to be living downstairs. I think that merits some panic."

Elissa half-scowled. "Aiden, we're already here, and it doesn't matter what happens to us. As long as Selene returns home in one piece, everything will be alright."

"Will it?" The haunted look had come back into Aiden's hazel eyes. "If all goes to plan—and there are so many things that can go wrong—you'll return to Luna with barely a month to spare. Not to mention that we may or may not be marrying off our beloved little princess to the Commonwealth's teenage man crush, which leaves you studentless and a—" Aiden chose his words carefully. You could never be too careful trying to protect your own secrets. "—babysitter. What do you plan to do?"

"Teach a class. Maybe teach Channary. That'd be fun, don't you think?"

"You're dodging the question."

"Month to spare: find a class. Marrying Selene: that's out of my hands, and I think she'll be fine—" (Elissa was lying through her teeth already.) "—. Babysitting I can handle. Students: teach a class. I've got it covered, Aiden. Don't worry."

"This will come back to bite us in the ass."

"Don't be a pessimist. You're the optimist in this relationship, remember?"

"You know things are wrong when we switch our roles."

"Well, pessimism and optimism aren't really roles. They're states of the mind."

"Where did you learn that, Biology III?"

"Philosophy and Neuroscience 101, taught by Professor Elissa Heliore."

"Did anyone show up?"

"Now you're just being mean."

Aiden's smile faded. He didn't apologize, but he stepped forward and drew Elissa closer to him. Elissa felt him lean into the embrace and press his lips against her forehead. She reveled in the experience, a wave of heat and adrenaline rushing through her body. Stars, how could he make her feel like that even now, after so long?

When Aiden let go, he had returned to his normal Royal Guard stance, posture abnormally straight, eyes attentive, one hand resting on his gun. Elissa watched him go, his long legs propelling him to the doorway in a few long strides. Before he opened the door, however, he turned a quarter circle to look at Elissa briefly again.

"Please be safe, Liss."

Hour 4

Selene was pissed. For the past four hours she had been snatched from the garden and marched upstairs with no explanation, not even from Jacin, who had been keeping a tight grip on her arm. She had been dumped unceremoniously into her room, and she knew for a fact that at least eight guards were standing outside her bedroom.

Fuming, Selene had had no choice but to stay put, trying to read but failing. Her mind was elsewhere; wandering. She didn't know what had occurred to warrant such a reaction from everyone. Even Jacin, the most level-headed person she knew, was almost shaking in his boots like a leaf in the wind. Elissa was nowhere to be seen and Selene was slowly losing her mind. Briefly, she wondered what Kai was doing.

What does it matter? Her inner voice snapped her back to reality.

"I don't know," Selene muttered out loud, leaning back on the headboard of her bed. The words on the page of her book seemed to blur together, resulting in a migraine that was painful enough to stop her from tormenting herself any longer. Snapping the book shut, she traced the engraved words on the front of the cover, the ridges and creases as familiar to her as her own glamour.

The book was an old one, a short story collection for children that Selene had had since she was a toddler. Prose and Poetry For Children. The name was as generic as they came, and the slightly damaged black and red cover seemed to add to the book's diminished glory. Despite its out-of-place antique veneer, the thin novel was Selene's most prized possession. It reminded her of her childhood and her life before the issues with her mother began, her life before she realized what she would be facing as a future queen.

It reminded her of innocence, something she wasn't sure if she had anymore.

Her favorite story in the book was one titled "The Princess and the Fisherman." She remembered reading it when she was barely four, sitting in the lap of one of her old nurses, Ivesha. Ivesha had been past elderly then; she was nearly ancient, but still she clung onto her job. She had overseen three generations of Blackburns, and Selene was no problem for her. Ivesha could easily lure toddler Selene back into her crib simply by waving a small rattle in the air (although Selene later realized that Ivesha was also a highly proficient user of her glamour and had probably enchanted Selene in some undetectable way).

Ivesha had been dead for a long time, and no one had read to Selene for nearly a decade.

Selene, however, never forgot. Since that day, Selene had been obsessively carrying around her worn copy of her childhood tales. She read them over and over again until she could recite every single word perfectly. She loved all of the stories of magic and hope, swirled together. It was with the lesser-known "Princess and Fisherman" that she found her solace, however.

And so the princess ran. She ran away from the castle, the thorns of the rough ground slicing her feet open, the grass flowing scarlet with her blood. She ran and she ran, until her legs and arms had been cut to the extent where she could no longer walk, much less move. 'Please,' she cried. 'Please.'

And perhaps it was fate, in that very moment, that drew the young fisherman to his lover. He saw her from a distance, carrying his bounty home. Alas, if the fisherman had passed her by without a second thought, dismissing her as a shadow of his own mind, he would have saved his own life.

"Selene. Selene, wake up. Selene."

Bleary and disoriented, Selene's eyes fluttered open involuntarily. She hadn't realized that she had fallen asleep. "Whashappen?"

Elissa looked very motherly indeed, sitting at the edge of Selene's mattress like a sentinel. Her white thaumaturge coat was buttoned at the top, letting the rest flare out around her. Her fingers were nervously rubbing each other. Indeed, Elissa was behaving in a very. . . un-Elissa-like way.

"Nothing. You should rest. I didn't mean to wake you." Elissa quickly tucked Selene in, taking advantage of her groggy state to ease herself off of the bed without protest.

Selene let out a whine, and (using all of her effort) reached out to draw Elissa back in. "Eliss, just tell me," she mumbled. "Can't be nothing too bad."

Elissa stared at her for a moment, analyzing her. Selene felt like an eleven-year old again, Elissa's sudden scrutiny bordering patronizing. Finally, Elissa let out a breath and stared Selene in the eye. "Were you with Prince Kaito when Konn Torin went to go look for him?"

"Yeah, why?" Selene was suddenly struck with a sudden thought, and it shocked a pang into her chest. "Is Kai-"

"-no, not him." Elissa amended hastily. "Not Kaito."

"Then who?" Selene felt her fingers sweating puddles into her sheets, and her body was melting under the suddenly too-hot blanket. "Who. . . who's hurt?"

This time, Elissa wasted no time replying.

"Emperor Rikan."

Hour 5

She stroked the soft fabric of the midnight blue dress, dotted with gold sequins and lace. Her fingers traced the low neckline, and she imagined herself wearing the gown, how nicely it would outline her figure. Plucking the hanger off of the rack, she set the piece down on her bed and reached for her jewelry next, selecting the larger chain of gold daisies over the slimmer silver roses. Yes, those would fit nicely.

She imagined herself dancing-with who, it didn't matter. Just as long as she was adored, and loved.

And she would make them adore her.

And that is the long awaited new chapter! I really hoped you liked it; all of you lovely people definitely deserved it after such a long time!

Side note: When I was naming the Earthern representatives, I tried to come up with authentic names. For every character, really. But being the uncultured person I am, I couldn't. I didn't realize just how bothered I would be by names that I created that aren't culturally correct, such as Jamal Nuy. I think that that's a mistake involving stereotypes on my part, and I'm truly sorry for it. I'd be willing to change it if you guys don't feel comfortable. The most important thing for me to do, though, is to finish the story.