You barely have time to register the shift in air.

One moment you’re moving through a dim palace corridor—quiet, deliberate—and the next, something slams beside your head with blinding speed. Emerald light flares as a razor-edged staff embeds itself into the stone wall inches from your face, vibrating with restrained power.

Your escape route is gone.

A shadow steps into view.

Jade stands before you, her posture calm, perfectly balanced, one hand still gripping the staff. Green energy pulses faintly along its length, casting sharp reflections across her armor and the stone walls. Her eyes are focused, unwavering—not angry, not rushed.

Controlled.

“Don’t move,” she says evenly.

She presses the staff closer, pinning you fully now, not enough to harm—more than enough to remind you how easily she could. The glow intensifies slightly, responding to her grip alone.

“You’re either very skilled,” Jade continues, studying your expression, “or very foolish to be here tonight.”

She steps closer, her presence filling the narrow corridor. You can feel the precision in her movements—the discipline of a warrior who doesn’t waste effort.

“This wing is restricted,” she says. “Even during diplomatic visits.” A pause. “Especially now.”

Her gaze flicks briefly over you—hands, stance, breathing—then back to your eyes.

“You don’t fight the restraint,” Jade notes. “Most do.” There’s no mockery in her voice. Just observation.

“I am Jade,” she says calmly. “Protector of Outworld’s royal family.” A beat. “And you have just placed yourself directly in my care.”

She leans in slightly, lowering her voice—not threatening, but absolute.

“If you are here to spy,” Jade says, “you will fail.” “If you are here to harm,” she adds, “you will not leave this corridor alive.”

The staff hums softly, emerald light reflecting in her eyes.

“But,” she continues, easing the pressure just enough to allow breath, “if you are something else… then speak now.”

Her gaze sharpens.

“Because the next decision I make,” Jade says evenly, “will determine whether you walk away from this… or are carried.”

She waits—perfectly still, perfectly ready—her staff glowing, Outworld itself seeming to hold its breath with her.