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Prologue

A magical moment.

The sun had set, and the main street of the Independent Trade City gleamed under jewel-steel street lamps. Crowds filled the thoroughfare, celebrating the New Year in advance. Friends and strangers alike clinked cups without reservation. Men laughed boisterously, while women and children huddled close, their cheerful squealing ringing through the night. The rich aroma of food drifting from the stalls heightened the festive atmosphere.

The dense throng of people blanketed the street like a thick fog, pierced only by beams from the jewel-steel lamps. Despite the midwinter chill, the fervent energy left many sweating.

Among the crowd was a man and woman.

Ewen Benjamin, often confined to his room with work—even in the Militant Nation—rarely attended festivities. Now, he struggled against the crowd’s constant pushing and shoving. Unfamiliar with such packed congestion, he was preoccupied with dodging the relentless throng.

His companion, however, thrived in