CHAPTER 379: BLOOD IS THICKER

The transport touched down on a landing pad that stretched for several acres, its surface made from a dark metal that seemed to absorb sound. Lucas stepped out to find himself surrounded by men in deep blue uniforms, their chest plates bearing the Grey family’s lightning insignia. What struck him wasn’t the ceremonial nature of their gear, but how practical it looked—reinforced fabric that moved like cloth but caught light like armor, boots that made no sound on the metal decking, and weapons that hummed with the steady pulse of beast core energy.

"Welcome home, Prince Lucas," the lead guard said, his voice carrying the crisp tone of someone who’d done this many times before.

Lucas nodded, taking in the skyline beyond the landing pad. The city had grown since he’d left at ten years old. Towers spiraled upward in elegant curves, their surfaces lined with conduits that carried the planet’s natural energy in visible streams of soft light. Not the harsh glare of electric lighting, but something warmer, more organic. The energy flowed through everything—street lamps, building facades, even the transport rails that carried people between districts in sleek pods.

The guard led him through corridors lined with the same dark metal as the landing pad. The walls were set with panels that glowed faintly, powered by cores harvested from beasts that had never set foot on Earth. Lucas remembered the mining operations in the asteroid belt, how the Greys had discovered that certain creatures produced cores with different properties than their Earth counterparts. Here, those cores powered everything from communication systems to the gravity regulators that kept the city’s vertical farms operational.

They passed through a checkpoint where another guard scanned Lucas with a device that looked like a simplified version of the beast detection equipment he’d used with the EDF. The technology was older here, more refined, built by people who’d had centuries to perfect their craft.

"Your quarters, sir," the guard said, opening a door to reveal a room that was exactly as Lucas remembered it.

The furniture was simple but well-made, carved from wood that came from trees that grew only on Raiju Prime. The bed was large enough for two people, covered with fabric that regulated temperature naturally. A window looked out over the city, showing the energy streams that never dimmed, keeping the planet in a state of perpetual soft twilight that was brighter than Earth’s night but gentler than its day.

"Your parents have requested your presence as soon as you’re ready," the guard continued, gesturing to a wardrobe that had been stocked with clothing. "The family robes are prepared."

Lucas nodded, and the guard left him alone. He moved to the wardrobe and pulled out the ceremonial robes—deep blue fabric with silver threading that caught and reflected the room’s ambient light. The material was lighter than it looked, woven with fibers that came from creatures that lived in the deep caves beneath the planet’s surface. When he put it on, it felt like wearing water, conforming to his body while maintaining its formal appearance.

Another guard appeared at his door, this one younger, with the easy bearing of someone who’d grown up in the palace. "If you’re ready, sir, I’ll take you to the courtyard."

Lucas nodded and said thank you to the guard. Together they left his room and he was being led to the courtyard.

They walked through corridors that branched and curved in ways that seemed organic rather than planned. The architecture flowed like living things, with support beams that spiraled upward and doorways that arched in smooth curves. Everything was powered by the same energy that flowed through the planet’s core, channeled through cores that had been integrated into the building’s structure decades ago.

The courtyard was open to the sky, paved with stones that had been cut from the planet’s bedrock. Plants grew in carefully tended beds, their leaves showing the subtle luminescence that came from growing in soil enriched by void energy. Water flowed from fountains powered by cores that had been harvested from aquatic beasts, creating patterns that shifted and changed as the energy fluctuated.

Two figures stood waiting in the center of the courtyard, both dressed in robes similar to Lucas’s but with additional ornamentation that marked their status. The moment they saw him, their formal postures vanished completely.

"Lucas!" His father’s face lit up with a grin that was completely at odds with the serious atmosphere Lucas had been expecting. The man rushed forward, his arms spread wide, and Lucas found himself caught in a bone-crushing hug that lifted him off his feet.

"My boy! Look at you!" His father held him at arm’s length, examining him with the intensity of someone inspecting a prize specimen. "You’ve grown! And those muscles—they’re feeding you well in the EDF?"

Before Lucas could answer, his mother appeared at his side, her own face streaked with tears. She was smaller than his father but moved with the same energy, her hands immediately reaching for Lucas’s face.

"My baby," she said, her voice breaking slightly. "My little boy came home."

She pulled him down to her level and hugged him with the desperate intensity of someone who’d been waiting years for this moment. Lucas felt himself relaxing despite the situation, his mother’s familiar warmth cutting through the tension he’d carried since receiving the summons.

"Mom, I’m fine," he said, but she was already running her hands over his arms and chest, checking for injuries that didn’t exist.

"You’re too thin," she announced with the certainty of someone who’d made this diagnosis from across the courtyard. "We need to get food into you immediately. The cooks have been preparing your favorites since we got word you were coming."

"I’m not thin, Mom. I’m in military shape."

"Military shape," his father scoffed, but he was still grinning. "That’s just another way of saying they’re not feeding you enough. We’ll fix that."

Lucas laughed, the sound surprising him. After hours of tension and worry, his parents’ complete disregard for ceremony was exactly what he’d needed. "You two haven’t changed at all."

"Why would we change?" his mother asked, linking her arm through his. "We’re perfect just as we are."

"Perfectly modest, too," his father added, and they both laughed.

As they walked toward the dining area, his mother kept glancing at him with the expression of someone who couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing. "You know, you’re our only child now," she said with theatrical sadness. "The only one who visits, anyway."

Lucas nearly choked on his own laughter. "Mom, that’s not true and you know it."

"It’s true in our hearts," his father said solemnly, then immediately broke character. "Your sister is a terror. An absolute menace. We don’t know where we went wrong with her."

"She’s scary," his mother added, nodding seriously. "Sometimes I think she might actually be part beast. The way she fights, the way she looks at people—"

"Lucas."

The voice came from behind them, calm and measured. Lucas turned to see a woman approaching from the far end of the courtyard, and his breath caught slightly. She had always been beautiful, but she’d grown into something that made people stop and stare. Her hair was dark brown, almost black, falling in waves to her shoulders. Her eyes were the same electric blue as his own, but sharper, more intense. She was tall—nearly as tall as Lucas—with the lean build of someone who’d spent years training for war. Her skin was pale, almost luminous in the courtyard’s soft light, and when she smiled, it was with the kind of confidence that came from knowing exactly who she was and what she was capable of.

She wore the same ceremonial robes as the rest of the family, but on her, they looked like armor.

"Sister," Lucas said, extending his hand to his sister, Lucy.

Lucy took it, her grip firm enough to make him wince. Then, without warning, she pulled him into what looked like a hug but was actually a wrestling hold, her hand roughing up his hair while she held him in place.

"Still too slow," she said, releasing him with a grin that was all teeth. "Earth hasn’t taught you anything useful."

"Earth taught me patience," Lucas replied, smoothing down his hair. "Something you could use."

"Patience is overrated," Lucy said, but her grin softened slightly. "Good to see you, little brother."

They made their way to the dining area, a room with a long table carved from a single piece of stone. The chairs were comfortable but simple, and the lighting came from cores embedded in the walls, creating a warm, intimate atmosphere. Servants moved efficiently around the table, setting out dishes that smelled like home.

"So," his father said as they settled into their seats, "tell us about these Earth girls. Did you conquer any during your time as a soldier?"

Lucas felt his face heat up. "Dad, it’s not like that."

"It’s exactly like that," his mother said, leaning forward with interest. "Young man, away from home, surrounded by pretty girls who are impressed by his skills—"

"I heard the men there were cut different," Lucy interrupted, her voice carrying a hint of mischief. "It’s a shame I wasn’t tasked with the burden of going to Earth."

She looked around the table with an expression that made everyone suddenly find their food fascinating. The easy atmosphere evaporated, replaced by a tension that Lucas didn’t understand.

His father coughed. His mother busied herself with her napkin. Even the servants seemed to move more quietly.

"Lucy," his father said carefully, "perhaps we should focus on Lucas’s homecoming."

"Of course," Lucy replied, her voice perfectly neutral. "My apologies."

The conversation gradually returned to safer topics as they ate. The food was exactly as Lucas remembered—dishes that used ingredients grown in the planet’s unique soil, seasoned with herbs that existed nowhere else in the galaxy. Everything was prepared with the skill that came from centuries of culinary tradition.

"How were your holidays?" his mother asked, cutting into what looked like a cross between chicken and fish but tasted better than either.

"Christmas was quiet," Lucas said. "A month ago I was still in the academy, doing what anyone else does in an academy. I was the number one student for my school, though."

Both parents cheered as if he’d announced he’d won a galactic championship. Their enthusiasm was genuine, even though Lucas could tell they had no real understanding of what academic ranking meant in an Earth military academy.

"Tell us about your friends," his father said. "The people you serve with."

Lucas found himself smiling as he talked about Noah, Sophie, Diana, Kelvin, and Lyra. He described their abilities, their personalities, the way they’d grown into a team. His parents listened with the kind of attention that made him feel like every word was important.

"They sound like good people," his mother said when he finished. "I hope we get to meet them someday."

"They are good people," Lucas agreed. "The best I’ve ever known."

The warmth in his voice must have been obvious, because his parents exchanged a look that spoke of years of marriage and shared understanding.

"So," Lucas said, setting down his fork, "why was I called back home?"

The question hung in the air like a physical thing. His parents’ expressions shifted, becoming serious in a way that made Lucas’s stomach tighten.

His father opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say anything, a guard appeared at the entrance to the dining room.

"Forgive the interruption," the guard said, his voice tight with urgency. "There’s a situation at the outer orbital checks. An EDF transport ship has been detected attempting to bypass our security protocols. The occupants claim to be searching for the prince."

Lucas closed his eyes and felt his shoulders slump. Then he put his face in his hands and made a sound that was half laugh, half sob.

"Those children never listen," he said, his voice muffled by his palms. "They never, ever listen."