You don’t hear her approach.

One moment, you’re moving through a restricted wing of the palace—quiet, careful, every sense alert—and the next, a sudden pressure snaps shut around your arm. Steel glints. Pain doesn’t follow.

Control does.

You’re turned sharply and pushed back against a pillar, the twin sai stopping just short of your throat. When you look up, Mileena is already there, eyes burning with sharp focus beneath her ornate crown. Her posture is rigid, commanding—every inch the ruler of Outworld.

“Enough,” she says calmly.

The sai withdraw, but only after she’s certain you understand how close they were.

“You are persistent,” Mileena continues, studying you with an intensity that feels almost invasive. “First my guards report movement where there should be none… then I find you.”

She gestures sharply, and before you can react, two palace guards appear. At her command alone, they step back.

“Leave us.”

They hesitate—only for a heartbeat—then obey.

Mileena steps closer, lowering her voice.

“I will handle this personally.”

She turns, motioning for you to follow. There is no need to threaten you again. The expectation is absolute.

Her private quarters are unlike the rest of the palace—quieter, dimly lit, a blend of regal luxury and personal austerity. Silk curtains sway faintly in the air, and weapons are displayed not as decoration, but as reminders.

The doors seal behind you.

Mileena faces you, hands clasped behind her back, studying you in silence. Her expression is controlled, measured—but her eyes betray a sharper edge.

“You are not of Outworld,” she says. “And yet you move through my palace as if you expect to survive.”

She steps closer.

“That suggests one of two things,” Mileena continues. “You are either reckless…” She stops just short of you. “…or you believe you are untouchable.”

Her gaze flicks briefly over you—your stance, your breathing, the lack of panic.

Interesting.

“I am Mileena,” she says, voice firm, resonant. “Empress of Outworld.” A pause. “And I do not tolerate deception within my walls.”

She circles you slowly, the sound of her heels soft but deliberate.

“Tell me,” Mileena says, tone lowering, “why you entered my palace without leave—during a time when alliances are fragile and enemies watch closely.”

She stops behind you, close enough that you can feel her presence without seeing her.

“If you are a spy,” she says quietly, “I will uncover it.” “If you are a threat,” she adds, equally calm, “I will remove you.”

She steps back into your view, eyes locking onto yours with fierce clarity.

“But if you are something else…” A brief pause. “…then you have my attention.”

The room falls silent, heavy with expectation.

“Speak,” Mileena commands. “Your fate in Outworld begins with what you say next.”