CHAPTER 549: FULL HOUSE

Easier said than done.

Because apparently, fitting in messages from people who were thankful for their very lives but couldn’t talk about it, made them write the sappiest messages.

It was heartfelt, and likely full of literal tears as they congratulated their Young Lord in advance.

However, while their support banner could be used back-to-back to fit everyone, the same could not be said for the testing venue that was suddenly teeming with people.

They couldn’t really fit more in the auditorium even if they wanted to

The space used today wasn’t the biggest in the academy, partly because the instructors and the master mechanics were only expecting it to be a handful of people, plus those friends and family that Luca and Ollie had asked permission for.

It was just that who would’ve thought they’d have fifty from the house, excluding his parents, as well as his entire guild?

But then again, Luca had asked permission for those; what they didn’t expect was the Marshal and his small entourage to come watch.

Now, obviously, that sparked the curiosity of the instructors who heard about this and further increased the number of attendees fighting over the seats.

And finally, there were the apprentices of the master mechanics and past students who had done everything in their power just to get a seat inside the auditorium and breathe the same air as everyone they idolized.

Because maybe if they did, they’d also have a breakthrough in their craft.

However, while there was an undercurrent of excitement at suddenly having an event on planet Nova, one particular elder wasn’t of the same opinion.

Master Allan’s already sour mood turned a deeper shade of contempt when he saw the mob trying to cram into the testing arena.

Young and old, veterans and newbies, mechanics in matching coats, and disturbingly enthusiastic retirees waving pompoms. He even saw someone from military headquarters trying to ask a student for directions.

"Have we truly fallen this far?" Allan muttered to himself, elbowing past a pair of loud media personnel taking photos next to the admission gate.

He hadn’t even had his second nutrient shake and was already being asked to wade through a circus of supporters.

It was absurd.

Decades. It had been decades since there had been any real breakthrough in mecha manufacturing. And now this? This carnival?

No matter how promising the brat was, House Kyros was clearly pulling this stunt to boost their name. All this pomp, this parade, this pageantry—it was a desperate marketing ploy dressed up as a spiritual renaissance.

"Idiots," Allan hissed, nearly tripping over someone’s foot. "Absolute idiots."

Meanwhile, in the far quieter waiting corridor...

"Brother..." Ollie said, his voice suddenly unsteady.

Luca turned to look at him, brushing a faint sheen of oil off his gloves. "Hm?"

"I think I made a mistake," Ollie confessed. "I asked Kyle if the arena was already exciting."

Luca blinked.

"He sent a video."

A pause.

Ollie projected his terminal around to show the scene.

It was packed. No—worse. Because the space wasn’t exactly big, it somehow looked like half the Empire had come out to see this.

Luca barely had time to react before Ollie grabbed his sleeve, eyes wide. "Is this okay? Brother, there are so many people!"

There really was, which was surprising as Luca realized there were a lot of people in uniforms.

In a way, he understood his brother’s concerns and figured he’d comfort him the same way he received comfort.

Without a word, a soft shimmer surrounded them as a spiritual barrier flickered into place.

Then with a sheepish smile, he said, "Brother, I understand why you’re worried."

"When I got here, I was desperate to hide everything. And I think even until now, I still keep on thinking about how much easier that would be."

In fact, when everyone promised they’d keep his secrets, he didn’t expect that they would knowingly do it while being aware of the possible price.

So how could he not work hard for the people who bought him so much time?

He looked out toward the hallway.

"But after that test...after learning about the Empire’s history... especially how the Federation came to be... I realized it was better this way."

"At first, I didn’t actually understand until Xavier pointed out the value of history."

"Huh? What do you mean, brother?"

Hmm...

Luca tried to remember what Xavier had asked him and repeated it for Ollie.

Luca looked at him, solemn now. "If you were an outsider... if you didn’t know our motives... and you saw everything House Kyros had built—revealed all in one day, like at the Expo—what would you think?"

"A house that has stayed quiet for years suddenly comes back with such a force that realistically speaking, they couldn’t have amassed in a short period."

"Or what about a house that apparently has the means but waited until the very end to help?"

Ollie tilted his head, confused.

"Would it be too much of a stretch to think that maybe they’re planning an uprising? Something akin to the federation?"

The blonde blinked. That was a leap, right?

Sure. Because he was Ollie Mylor, who knew of their character, but as an outsider?

Ollie’s mouth opened. Closed. Then opened again.

"...Oh stars," he whispered. "Yeah. That would be terrifying."

Luca nodded earnestly. He’d thought the same exact thing when he heard about that kind of thinking.

And from what they’ve learned, he’d be lucky to be sent to the mines because treason was usually punishable by death!

But then his husband had said something, which he now repeated to Ollie, "Well, if everyone’s going to find out anyway, then why can’t we shape the narrative?"

Ollie stared at him.

Then grinned. "Wow, brother! You’re really so smart!"

Luca turned red. "Oh no. I only learned of that after Xavier asked me the same thing!"

They both giggled.

Then Ollie, more serious this time, asked, "Then... are you going all out today?"

Luca thought for a moment.

"Well," he said, "I don’t know about calling it all out. But I did hope to recommend something. Especially after learning about the conditions on the frontlines..."

Ollie beamed. "Then I’ll cheer extra hard."

Luca couldn’t stop smiling.

"Brother, you really liked the banner?" Ollie asked with a grin so bright it probably needed shielding. He bounced beside him, arms swinging as they exited the waiting room.

"I loved it," Luca replied sincerely. "And that glitter border was really thoughtful."

"Of course! I made it with sticker bombs from D-64’s art box! The little one even offered them!"

They were still giggling when they stepped into the main auditorium—and promptly almost collided with an older man trying to round the corner like his knees weren’t made of recycled steel.

Luca reacted instantly, catching the older man’s arm before the poor soul could crash into the floor.

"Oh no, I’m so sorry, sir. Are you alright?"

The man blinked, wobbling slightly.

He was about to thank Luca too, his expression just on the verge of grateful—

"Young Lord Luca!"

The voice pierced the air like a wrench through a turbine. It was unmistakable. Unmissable. And deeply, soul-crushingly familiar.

Master Allan’s left eye twitched.

Of course, it had to be that crusty fossil Quinn.

The moment he heard Quinn’s voice, everything shifted. The man who just helped him up? Suddenly suspicious. The polite expression? Suddenly, too rehearsed.

Master Allan’s already fragile mood took a nose dive.

So this was the brat. The one causing all the fuss. The one with fireworks in the sky and grown men crying on banners.

He looked up at Luca. Slowly. Judgingly. His eyes swept the boy from head to toe like he was scanning a low-tier replacement part.

And just as he opened his mouth to say something appropriately scathing—

"Lord Luca!" Master Quinn popped in like a hydra’s head on a spring, beaming. "No need to worry about that one. He’s tenacious. He’d survive an apocalypse."

Allan’s mouth clamped shut.

Luca, completely oblivious, nodded and offered a warm "I’m glad you’re alright, sir" before following Quinn toward the instructor panel, Ollie scurrying behind like a very sparkly duckling.

Allan stood there, bristling.

What a show.

The brat was clearly too cozy with Quinn. Too polite. Too composed. Too... suspicious.

Quinn had always liked shiny things that broke easily. Probably saw this kid and thought, Ooh, let me adopt that. Of course, the exam was just smoke and mirrors. A PR stunt. He wouldn’t be surprised if the boy’s designs had half the firepower and twice the flourish.

He grunted and stalked toward his seat. "This’ll be a disaster," he muttered. "Probably another downgrade packaged in fine silk."

He thought he was being discreet. He truly did.

Unfortunately, D-29 had recently installed a new auto-broadcast logic that pulled from cinematic storytelling algorithms, which included suspiciously emotional zooms and facial recognition overlays.

On another planet, inside the Kyros compound, a dozen people watching the stream collectively gasped.

"Head Maid! Why is that man glaring at our Young Lord like that?!"

"Oh no, not this again," Head Maid Gloria muttered.

"Who is he?" asked one of the junior attendants, scandalized.

"That’s Mecha Master Allan. Head of House Zorath’s mecha division. And..." Gloria sighed deeply, "Master Quinn’s ex-best friend."

"WHAT?!"

"Uh huh."

"Wait," Kana said, eyes wide. "Master Quinn had a friend?!"

There was a moment of silence.

Gloria rubbed her temples. "At one point... even that man had friends."

As the room descended into whispered outrage and dramatic judgment, the footage cut back to Luca, who was now gesturing politely to one of the instructors—while the caption below casually replayed the phrase EX-bestfriend of Master Quinn with ominous background music.

Master Allan had no idea yet.

But in exactly two minutes, his face would be on every trending list under: Who Hurt Our Young Lord?

And unfortunately for him, House Kyros had a very good private network distribution.