Five ancient bloodlines held true power within the empire: the Vane Clan, the Silae Clan, the Forge Clan, the Tungsten Clan, and the ruling Yinm Clan.
Skygnaw had concocted this scheme on the spot. If the Mindborn elites were too stubborn to honor their deal willingly, he would simply install a puppet to do it for them.
Wala had no idea what fate had in store for him. Feeling Skygnaw's unsettling gaze, he shivered, squeezing out a nervous smile.
"My Lord... do you have orders for me?"
During his brief captivity, Wala had learned that his captors belonged to an interstellar faction known as the Decepticons, who had come to drive off the invaders.
"Save your breath and follow me," Skygnaw commanded, turning back toward the palace.
"Right away, my Lord." Wala hurried after the towering metal giant, darting anxious glances at the heavy guards standing by.
Stepping into the New Zenith Hall, the color drained from Wala's face. He froze, stuttering in horror at the scene before him.
"This... this is..."
The hall was in ruins, littered with crushed battle armor and torn metal. Smoke and the metallic tang of spilled fluids hung heavy in the air.
When his eyes landed on a shattered frame draped in imperial robes, his breath caught in his throat.
He desperately wanted to ask what had happened, but staring at Skygnaw's imposing back, the words caught in his neck.
Skygnaw stopped beside the fallen Emperor, his voice entirely calm. "You see it now, Wala."
"A battle took place here. Or rather, a rebellion."
"I was discussing terms with your Emperor when these machines suddenly turned on us. Though I destroyed the traitors, your Emperor was unfortunately killed in the crossfire."
Wala's eye twitched. He was no fool; he understood what this implied.
"Now, as your ally, I want you to step into Yinm's place. You will be the new Emperor of the Mindborn."
Wala's breath hitched. Emperor?
It was a title he had never dared dream of. In the early days of the empire, the throne had shifted among the ruling heads. But a thousand years ago, the Yinm Clan had seized total control, turning a shared leadership into a hereditary monarchy.
Now, the chance to sit on that very throne was dangling right before him.
He knew that no Mindborn alive could resist such a temptation.
Though known as a spoiled noble back in Pan-Ang City, Wala possessed enough wits to realize that such gifts came with a steep price.
"My Lord... what do you require of me in return?"
Hearing this, Skygnaw smiled internally. The boy was sharp.
"Simple. Yinm and I had a deal. In exchange for destroying the Sharkborn, your people agreed to become our vassal state."
Wala's heart sank. A vassal state...
Could that be why the attack had happened? Had someone discovered Yinm's secret bargain and launched a desperate strike to kill the Emperor, hoping to wipe the deal clean?
Surrendering their independence was a heavy price to pay, after all.
"If you fulfill the promise Yinm made, the Decepticons will back you completely," Skygnaw added smoothly. "We will remove any obstacle standing in your path."
History had always been driven by ambition and self-interest. Offering a piece of political bait cost Skygnaw nothing, yet it placed a native noble out front to take the brunt of his people's anger.
If the Mindborn raged, they would hate Wala for his betrayal, or blame the late Emperor for starting the deal.
Meanwhile, Skygnaw could sit quietly in the shadows and reap the rewards.
After a brief, one-sided negotiation, Wala accepted the terms.
If the world was a food chain where the strong preyed on the weak, the Decepticons were the absolute apex predator, while the Mindborn were mere prey.
Skygnaw laid out a few final instructions before leaving Wala in the palace and returning to the Nemesis.
Wala had already been thoroughly terrified aboard the enemy flagship, so he dared not utter a single word of protest. Even inside the palace, he treated the massive Predaking—left behind by Skygnaw as a personal watchdog—with absolute deference.
He had watched the Sharkborn slaughter his elite guards down to a single survivor, only for the Decepticons to wipe out those same Sharkborn without breaking a sweat.
The terrifying gap in power was all too real.
The following morning, while the citizens were still celebrating their victory over the invaders, a shocking announcement rippled across the empire:
Emperor Yinm had been assassinated by rogue battle armors inside the palace!
Fortunately, Young Master Wala of the Vane Clan had been present, crushing the rebel units, though the Emperor could not be saved in time.
Because Wala had left Pan-Ang City in secret, very few knew of his whereabouts over the past few days. The common folk didn't question why he was in the capital, assuming his presence was a stroke of good fortune.
However, his next declaration left the entire nation stunned.
Wala announced that he would personally ascend the throne as the new Emperor!
While the populace struggled to process the sudden shift, no ordinary citizen voiced open opposition.
Wala was the heir of a high clan. Any real pushback could only come from the other ruling bloodlines; the common people had no say in such matters.
The noble houses had enjoyed exclusive privileges since the founding of the empire, including the sole right to shape state policy.
In truth, privilege was a relative concept. It was never about how much one possessed, but rather having what others were denied.
Compared to their ancestors who had lacked basic necessities, modern citizens lived comfortable lives. Even a lower-caste worker enjoyed comforts that ancient nobles could only dream of, starting their mornings with warm rations and sweet fruit pastes.
Yet comfort often blinded people to the bigger picture.
It was easy to focus on small improvements while ignoring who truly controlled their destiny. By looking only at what was convenient, people convinced themselves that things were fine as they were.
Wala had no desire to play the hero or act out of pure virtue.
History had already proven that true idealists rarely met a peaceful end in the empire.
Centuries ago, an ancient founder had united the warring tribes by force, bringing peace to the planet. Yet because he championed the common folk while suppressing the powerful noble houses, the high clans turned on his legacy the moment he passed away.
The Yinm Clan had led that shift, carving out massive territories for themselves while establishing the High Church and the caste system shortly after.
"Lord Skygnaw, this is the complete list of core members from the other ruling clans."
Having no interest in becoming a tragic martyr, Wala knew exactly which master he needed to serve.
He presented a secret document to Skygnaw—a list that would guarantee his execution for treason if his people ever saw it.
He understood completely: if he failed to obey the titan before him, he would end up just like Yinm.
"Very good, Wala," Skygnaw said, skimming through the names with a satisfied nod.
A useful puppet didn't need to be brilliant, but he had to know who held the leash.
For now, Wala was proving to be a remarkably cooperative tool.
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