"Hey there, Harry!"
Robin stepped into the warm, aromatic embrace of the café, the familiar chi above the door welcoming him like an old friend. He made his way to his usual table in the corner—one with a clear view of both the bar and the large holographic screen—and sat down with a relaxed sigh.
"Bring your finest drink. The most expensive one you've got."
"Right away, Mr. Robitango!"
The boy, barely past his teens, had four wide, alert eyes that sparkled with energy. He gave Robin a quick salute and darted off toward the kitchen, his little legs nearly a blur as he disappeared behind the swinging door.
#In today's top story, the Thirty-Seventh Light Swords Academy has officially opened its doors on Planet S-15. His Highness, Billy Burton, Supre Commander of the Planetary Police, made the announcent earlier this morning. He stated that admissions for the next class of Light Swords will begin in the coming days. His Highness emphasized that the true mission of the Light Swords remains unchanged—serving and protecting the innocent—and vowed to personally ensure that the values of discipline, honor, and justice are instilled in every cadet before he officially steps down.#
Robin's gaze drifted to the glowing broadcast as the voice of the news anchor echoed from the ceiling-mounted holo-display. He squinted slightly, recognizing a na he hadn't heard in quite so ti.
Leaning sideways in his seat, he addressed the person sitting at the table beside him in a hushed voice. "Pssst… hey, friend. Do you know the real reason why Billy's stepping down from leading the Lightblades?"
"Shhh!"
The man beside him imdiately raised a hand and made a rapid gesture to lower his voice, looking around cautiously.
"You can't just toss around nas like that out loud. Show so respect—it's His Highness Billy Burton, mind you. He's a close confidant of His Majesty himself!"
He then leaned in a little closer, eyes narrowing with the air of soone sharing a carefully guarded secret.
"His Highness Billy's core path is Fla, you see. He never intended to run the Light Swords long term. He stepped in only because they didn't have a proper leadership structure back then. But now? Now they've got a wave of new leaders—true warriors, martial emperors with real presence and skill. So of them have accomplished amazing feats on and off the battlefield. So, His Highness believes it's finally ti to pass the torch."
Robin raised an eyebrow, giving a low, appreciative whistle.
"Heh… Billy's always been soft-skinned. If it were soone else, they would've clung to power under the excuse of 'duty' or so nonsense. It's good I rembered that guy during my retreat—he's stayed true to himself."
He turned back toward the man at the next table.
"Listen, friend. I've been away on a long, long hunting journey—years, in fact. I've missed a lot. Can you tell … has anything big happened in Jura recently? Especially problems stemming from the recent wave of off-world migrants. I've got a large family, and I need to know they're safe and well."
Robin's voice was calm, almost casual—but his eyes, sharp and alert, scanned the man's face carefully, waiting for even the smallest reaction. This was not a simple question.
After a century of so-called peace—during which the empire's army had turned its full attention to outer conquests—Robin knew that internal issues would have been pushed to the background. But now, they must be bubbling to the surface.
That was the core of his concern. The Empire of True Beggining had expanded at lightning speed, yet politically, it remained a fragile creature. It lacked experienced statesn—people capable of drafting solid laws, managing civil systems, and maintaining social cohesion.
The only true politician Robin trusted was Aro, but Aro leaned far too much toward warfare. He wouldn't settle for paperwork or public welfare.
Who else could manage an empire of this size? Certainly not Zara, who was consud by the endless projects in the City of Research and Developnt. Nor Emili, whose obsession with financial records, vaults, and budgetary control left little room for visionary leadership.
Robin knew that, for a while, Alfred Marley had handled the empire's internal affairs, first supported by what was left of the old royal family, then by the Burton Family. But none of them had shown the kind of brilliance needed to govern a multi-planetary empire in its pri. Not a single one stood out as a born ruler of law and order.
The man beside him gave him a slightly puzzled look.
"Huh? A major problem? You've really been gone a long ti, haven't you? Let tell you sothing, friend. You don't just ask questions like that out loud. Jura has beco the center of a vast Empire—who in their right mind would dare cause trouble here?"
He leaned in a bit, dropping his voice further.
"Nothing's happened since that legendary event a hundred years ago—you know, the one where His Majesty fought not one, but two individuals who had reached the Nexus State, and won. After that, silence. Peace. Nobody has dared to stir anything up since. Not here, Not in the other S-type planets."
"Wait… His Majesty defeated two Nexus at once?!"
Robin scratched his head slowly, the gears in his mind turning as he tried to rember.
"Hmm… yeah… yeah, I do recall sothing like that hehe…"
#...In other developnts, skirmishes have persisted for a third straight day in the city of Alassandria.#
Robin's gaze sharpened instantly.
Even after years away, that na—Alassandria—struck a chord. It wasn't just any city; it was one of the legendary three cities from which the People's Resistance Movent had once erged. If trouble was surfacing there again, it might signal the beginning of deeper unrest. Was the flawless surface of imperial rule finally cracking?
#The confrontation was sparked by a heated dispute between students from two rival families, allegedly over school-related issues. After a Light Sword operatives arrived on scene and imposed a fine on the instigating side, tensions de-escalated and the city has reportedly returned to a state of calm.#
Robin blinked. Then—
"A school fight? That's what counts as a clash now?" he burst out, incredulous.
"No whispers of betrayal? No secret plots? No signs of factional hate? How can an empire this colossal be so silent in the news?!"
"Shh—please!"
The four-eyed waiter practically flew over, placing a cup on the table with a slight tremble. He leaned in, whispering urgently while darting glances at the other patrons.
"Sir, don't say things like that so openly. You might draw the wrong kind of attention. There are ears everywhere—and not all of them are friendly."
Across the room, another guest shifted uncomfortably. He raised his voice just enough to be heard.
"Harry, switch off the news, will you? Put on a film or sothing light. This is starting to feel… risky."
"Right away, sir!"
The boy behind the counter retrieved a polished tal stone, pressed it multiple tis, and aid it at the holo-projector.
The news dissolved into a new scene: a soft-focus romance drama.
A tall, red-skinned human from the planet Gudah leaned in to kiss a silvery-haired girl of the Dorgrien race. She let it happen for a heartbeat—then abruptly shoved him away, eyes welling with tears, before turning to cry by the riverside. A classic interspecies heartbreak.
Robin silently sipped his drink, his brow deeply furrowed.
He wasn't interested.
In fact, this kind of idyllic, artificial calm frustrated him.
He'd seen enough of the galaxy to know: no empire, no matter how powerful, ever ran smoothly forever—especially not one lacking strong political leadership. Peace like this? It was unnatural. Manufactured. A lie.
"There's no way everything's really this quiet," he thought to himself.
"Unless… society's reached a point where nobody even cares anymore?"
CLANG!
At that very mont, the café's front door creaked open with a jarring tallic thud.
A figure stepped inside—tall, rigid, imposing.
He wore radiant white armor, polished to a mirror-like sheen, marked unmistakably with the sigil of the Golden Sun—the emblem of the Light Swords. The entire room shifted in mood at his arrival.
His steps were slow but deliberate. The floor seed to echo beneath each one as he made his way toward Robin, standing firmly between him and the holoscreen.
Click. Clack.
Instantly, tension spread across the room like a fog.
Every eye avoided the newcor. The man seated beside Robin rose from his chair, subtly turned it, and pretended to stir his tea with excessive focus.
Then the Light Sword spoke. His tone was honeyed and professional, but his words were edged like a blade.
"We've received word that sothing's been weighing on you, Mr. Robitango. If you'd kindly accompany to the local command post, we'd be happy to hear your concerns... and perhaps assist you."
Robin leaned back slightly, his fingers drumming against the table. His eyes didn't flinch.
"Spare ," he said flatly. "I'm in no mood to dance circles with low level civil enforcers right now."
The Light sword's smile remained, but the temperature in his voice dropped.
"I'm afraid I must insist."
His right hand moved behind his back, while his left gestured calmly toward the door. Though polite on the surface, there was a weight to his presence—a quiet pressure that pressed against the room.
Clink… clink…
The only sound ca from the uncomfortable sugar-stirring of Robin's neighbor, who now appeared to be counting grains in his cup.
Robin's jaw tightened. His eyes, sharp as ever, scanned the Light sword's expression, then pointed a finger at the man's face. "Looks like today, I'll have to—"
WHOOSH!
The atmosphere shifted.
The air itself twisted. A sudden gust swept through the enclosed café, spiraling toward a central point.
From the swirling current, a figure began to take form—small, delicate, glowing faintly with arcane energy. Wind gathered around her like a protective veil.
Then she appeared: a young girl, arms crossed sternly, hovering midair. Her short hair fluttered behind her, and her eyes were narrowed in frustration.
"Oh please," she said, exasperated.
"Don't tell you're really about to start a dramatic face-off with this poor Light sword. Are you really that bored?"
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