House Veylor was untouchable.
They commanded the skies, forged the Empire's war machines, and funded the royal council's every purge. Their floating fortress, Aurelia, hovered above the capital like a god watching ants.
But today… it would fall.
---
Kael stood before the rebel war council, arcane core schematics projected behind him, the blue light reflecting in his eyes.
"The Empire has dozens of noble houses. We take one out, the rest feel fear. We take Veylor out… and the entire system shakes."
"Attacking their fortress is suicide," Riven said, arms crossed.
"I'm not attacking it," Kael said. "I'm crashing it."
Gasps rippled through the room.
"Using the stolen arcane cores, I've built an overload frequency. If we infiltrate Aurelia's reactors and plant this device,"—he lifted a small pulse emitter—"we can turn the floating palace into a falling fireball."
Zephyra, returned from her solo mission and leaning in the corner, smirked. "You always plan things just shy of impossible."
Kael winked. "That's where the fun starts."
---
Operation Skyfall began two days later.
Disguised as imperial engineers, Kael, Zephyra, Riven, and a small strike team infiltrated one of Aurelia's supply elevators. The lift ascended thousands of meters—into clouds lit by distant city lights.
Inside the fortress, opulence met brutality. Gilded statues, armored guards, and arcane generators powered by chained elementals.
House Veylor didn't hide their cruelty.
Kael split the team.
Zephyra handled the security grid—silent, swift, disabling cameras and charm-rings with tiny blades and her signature smirk.
Riven held the rear, delaying guards with makeshift explosions, moving like a storm with a grin and a grudge.
Kael reached the reactor core.
It pulsed with stolen magic—beating like the heart of a god.
He planted the pulse emitter on the main conduit and started the timer.
10 minutes.
Just enough time to escape.
---
"Kael, incoming!" Zephyra's voice rang in his earpiece.
Too late.
Lord Veylor stepped into the chamber—tall, draped in black-gold armor, wielding a plasma halberd and arcane-enhanced strength. His eyes burned like twin furnaces.
"You," he sneered. "The magicless rat who thinks he's a king."
Kael raised the Nullfang. "Crownless," he said. "But I'll still bury you."
The duel was brutal.
Veylor's strikes shattered floors. Kael dodged, rolled, fired pulse after pulse. The Nullfang slowed the noble's magic, but it wasn't enough.
Until—
Zephyra burst in, dual blades flashing. "Thought I'd let you have all the fun?"
Together, they fought with rhythm—blade and blast, shadow and science.
Kael finally fired the Nullfang point-blank into Veylor's arcane core, and Zephyra drove her dagger through his throat.
The noble crumbled.
The fortress shook.
"Time to run," Kael said, grabbing her hand.
---
They barely reached the evac ship.
Behind them, Aurelia cracked apart—its core pulsing once, twice, then exploding in a silent burst of light.
The floating palace fell.
Like a dying star, it crashed into the earth—crushing centuries of cruelty in a single roar.
Cheers echoed across rebel outposts. Broadcasts lit up across the continent.
The untouchables had fallen.
---
Later, by the firelight, Zephyra sat beside Kael as he stared at the flickering newsfeed.
"You did it," she whispered. "You took down a noble house."
"No," he said. "We did."
She rested her head on his shoulder.
And for the first time in a long time, the genius with no magic didn't feel like he was fighting alone.