Thriexa Aizih POV

  I took my place beside my mother, feeling the weight of generations pressing down on my shoulders. The chamber was quiet as I took a steadying breath.

  “Before we begin, I want to make it clear that communication will not be a barrier here. The Dephorians speak our natural language, so translation will only be needed for Jace. Some of our own will ensure that nothing is lost in communication.”

  At the far side of the room, Jace stood off to the side, his posture straight but his eyes scanning everything. Tocci stood beside him, offering quiet translations. I glanced at him for reassurance, grounding myself in his presence before facing forward again.

  One of the Dephorians shifted, their glowing yellow eyes narrowing. “Who is he? And why is he in that suit?”

  Thriexa straightened her posture, meeting the Dephorian leader’s gaze without hesitation. “He is a human, but that is not what we are here to discuss. His presence does not change the purpose of this meeting. We are here to find a path forward, not to question who stands in the room.”

  The Dephorian leader’s expression remained unreadable, but his daughter cast a curious glance at Jace before settling back into silence.

  The talks began slowly, with careful formality—exchanging intentions, outlining grievances, and establishing a basis for discussion. For a brief moment, it seemed as though both sides were willing to listen. I watched as my mother kept her tone measured, restrained despite the weight of centuries pressing down on her. The Dephorian leader mirrored this, his posture rigid but composed.

  I extended my awareness, reaching out to read the intentions of the Dephorians in the room. The leader himself burned with anger and distrust, his mind sharp with old wounds and unyielding resolve. His daughter, however, was different. Beneath her guarded exterior, I sensed contemplation, a quiet uncertainty that made her stand apart from the others. The Dephorian guards, positioned at the edges of the chamber, were coiled with readiness, their thoughts clouded with wariness and a deep-seated belief that peace was a fool’s hope.

  I let my gaze shift briefly to Jace, standing at the far side of the room, his stance alert but calm. Tocci murmured translations beside him, but his eyes weren’t just watching—he was analyzing, weighing every word and reaction. I held onto that steady presence for just a moment before returning my focus to the negotiations ahead.

  Yet, beneath the surface, tension simmered. The past was unavoidable, and as the conversation edged toward history—the betrayals, the pain, the relentless pursuit that had defined our existence—the fragile calm broke apart.

  The Dephorian leader was the first to snap. He slammed his fist onto the table, the sound reverberating through the chamber. “You speak of peace as if your people are without fault! The Eova have evaded accountability for too long!”

  Xilta’s expression darkened, her voice cold as ice. “Accountability? You mean submission. You mean allowing you to erase what is left of my people. We have done nothing but flee while your kind hunted us like prey! You dare sit here and claim the moral high ground?”

  The room shifted, the air thick with unspoken threats. I could see the barely restrained fury in both leaders, feel it crackling through the energy of the room. The Dephorian leader’s daughter tensed beside him but did not yet speak, her golden eyes flicking between us, calculating.

  Xilta leaned forward, her voice laced with bitterness. “You expect us to believe you have changed? That your people, who have pursued us across the stars and forced us to abandon world after world, now want peace?”

  The Dephorian leader’s jaw tightened, his glowing eyes narrowing. “We do not ask for belief. We are here to negotiate, not to beg. Your kind has always chosen to flee rather than face the past. Running does not absolve you of your role in this war.”

  Xilta’s entire frame went rigid. I could feel the anger rolling off her in waves. “My past? Your people killed my true partner—my daughter’s father. You have followed us across the stars, never satisfied, never willing to let us go. We ran because the alternative was annihilation.”

  The room grew thick with unspoken threats. The Dephorian leader’s daughter shifted slightly, her gaze flicking between us, but she still did not intervene.

  I took a step forward, attempting to steady the conversation. “We came here to prevent war, not to relive old wounds. If you are only here to trade accusations, then we are wasting our time.”

  The Dephorian leader turned his gaze on me, studying me with an intensity that sent a chill down my spine. “And what exactly is it that you propose, Thriexa Aizih?”

  Before I could answer, Xilta scoffed. “There will be no peace. Your words are empty, just like the promises of those who came before you. I will not waste another moment entertaining the lies of a people who have only ever known conquest.”

  The fragile balance collapsed. Voices rose into heated argument, and it became clear that no peace would be made here today. The past was too deep, the wounds too raw. This was no negotiation—it was a final warning.

  As the Dephorians prepared to leave, I locked eyes with the Dephorian leader’s daughter. For a moment, she hesitated, her expression unreadable.

  And then, just before she turned away, I saw it—a flicker of something unexpected.

  Hope.

  As the leaders stormed out, leaving the fragile negotiations in ruins, I remained still. Across the room, the Dephorian leader’s daughter did the same. Most of the other Eova and Dephorians had followed their respective leaders, leaving only a handful of us behind. Jace, Tocci, the daughter of the Dephorian leader, her bodyguard, and I were the only ones who remained. My eyes met with the daughter of the Dephorian leader, and without a word, we both knew—we couldn’t let it end like this.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  Slowly, I stepped forward, and she mirrored my movement. We met at the center of the room, a silent understanding settling between us.

  “This doesn’t have to be the way our people remember this moment,” I said, my voice softer than before, stripped of the weight of the confrontation.

  She studied me for a moment before nodding. “I agree. But convincing them will be the challenge.”

  I took a slow breath before extending my hand. “I’m Thriexa Aizih. If we’re going to make this work, we should know each other beyond just our titles.”

  The Dephorian hesitated, then clasped my hand firmly. “Dreinas,” she introduced herself. “And I hope, for both our peoples, that we are not wasting our time.”

  We spoke in hushed tones, discussing what could be done, what compromises could be made. Despite our differences, it became clear that we both wanted the same thing—an end to the endless pursuit, a future where our species no longer saw each other as enemies.

  In that moment, an agreement was formed. As a gesture of goodwill, the Dephorians offered something unexpected—a transformation portal.

  “We once modified one of your portals to turn any species into a Dephorian,” she admitted. “It is how we have maintained our numbers, ensuring we never weaken. But we can alter it again. This time, it will allow any species to become Eova.”

  The implications of such a device were staggering. For centuries, we had run, believing ourselves to be a dying people, hunted by those who sought our destruction. But now? Now there was a chance to strengthen ourselves in a way we had never considered.

  I took a steady breath before speaking. “I can offer something to prove our intentions—technology to help your people return to your homeworld faster than what you currently have. We no longer have to be locked in this endless cycle of pursuit and conflict.”

  Dreinas hesitated, her golden eyes studying me intently. After a moment, she exhaled. “I have only ever known our ship. My entire life has been spent here, among the remnants of those who followed my grandfather when the Eova left our planet. He believed in a single purpose: revenge. And my father carried on that belief, convinced that our only path forward was through your destruction.”

  Her voice wavered slightly, as though speaking the words aloud made her realize the weight of them. “But what has it given us? A life of pursuit, a people who have forgotten what it means to live outside of war. If I take this offer back to my people, it will be the first time in generations that a Dephorian leader has given them a path other than conquest.”

  She looked back at me, something almost vulnerable in her expression. “If I agree to this, I need to know—are you certain your people will honor it? Can I trust you, Thriexa Aizih? Because if we take this step, there is no turning back. If my people feel betrayed, the next war will be worse than anything we have seen before.”

  I reached out again with my ability, reading her intentions one last time. What I found there made my breath catch—she truly wanted peace. She wasn’t simply seeking a tactical advantage or trying to deceive me. She wanted what I wanted: an end to this cycle of war and vengeance.

  For a moment, I hesitated, then did something I had never done before. I stepped forward and extended my hand, palm up. “Let me show you.”

  Dreinas looked down at my outstretched hand, uncertainty flashing across her face. “What are you doing?”

  “You asked if you could trust me,” I said, my voice steady. “I want you to see how much I want peace between us. I want you to feel it. Open your mind to me.”

  She hesitated, then slowly, cautiously, placed her hand in mine. I closed my eyes, allowing the connection to flow, opening my thoughts, my emotions—everything—to her.

  I let her feel the emotions that had shaped my people—fear, exhaustion, the endless weight of always running, of never truly being free. I let her sense the sorrow carried through generations, the burden of leadership pressing on my shoulders, and the fragile hope that, in this moment, we could finally break the cycle. I bared my intentions fully, showing her the depth of my desperation for peace, the genuine desire to end the conflict that had defined both our peoples for too long.

  The connection pulsed between us, heavy with emotions too vast to put into words. When I finally pulled back, opening my eyes, I found Dreinas staring at me, her grip on my hand tighter than before.

  She exhaled slowly. “You… you truly mean it. You want peace as much as I do.”

  I nodded. “More than anything. But now, we have to convince our parents.”

  Dreinas let go of my hand, straightening her posture. A new determination settled into her expression, her golden eyes gleaming with purpose.

  “Then we will do it together.”

  We had reached an understanding. Now, we just had to make them listen.

  Jace Strickland POV

  From where I stood, the peace talks unfolded like a carefully balanced dance—one that threatened to collapse at any moment. Tocci murmured translations beside me, her voice steady, ensuring I didn’t miss a single word. Without her, I would have been lost in the flow of tense conversations, the unspoken threats woven between carefully chosen phrases.

  But my attention wasn’t just on the words being exchanged—it was on her.

  Thriexa.

  She commanded the room, standing firm in the face of hostility, never faltering despite the weight pressing down on her. I watched as she navigated every shift in tone, every flicker of hesitation in the Dephorians’ expressions. She was measured, controlled, but beneath it all, I could see her desire for peace, the fire that kept her from stepping back when others would have walked away.

  The Dephorian leader’s rage burned like a wildfire, his voice sharp, his words filled with venom. He slammed his fist onto the table, sending a resounding crack through the chamber. “You speak of peace as if your people are without fault! The Eova have evaded accountability for too long!”

  Xilta’s expression darkened, her words laced with ice. “Accountability? You mean submission. You mean allowing you to erase what is left of my people. We have done nothing but flee while your kind hunted us! You dare sit here and claim the moral high ground?”

  I could see the tension radiating through the room, feel the invisible lines being drawn between the two sides. The Dephorian leader’s daughter, shifted slightly, watching, calculating. She hadn’t spoken much, but there was something about her presence that felt… different.

  Then, something happened. Something I never expected.

  Thriexa stepped forward and reached out her hand to Dreinas.

  Tocci’s whispered translations slowed, her voice filled with quiet awe. “She’s… opening her mind to her.”

  I didn’t know much about Eova telepathic connections, but I knew enough to understand what this meant. Thriexa wasn’t just speaking words—she was showing Dreinas her true intentions, her raw emotions. I watched as Dreinas hesitated, then slowly placed her hand in Thriexa’s.

  A long silence stretched between them.

  I had no idea what was being exchanged, what was being felt, but I saw it in Dreinas’ expression. The hardened edge in her golden eyes softened. The tension in her frame eased. And then, after what felt like forever, she exhaled slowly.

  “You… you truly mean it. You want peace as much as I do.”

  I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. Tocci glanced up at me, her eyes filled with something between hope and disbelief.

  Then, Dreinas spoke again. “But now, we have to convince our parents.”

  Thriexa nodded. “Then we will do it together.”

  The war hadn’t ended. The old wounds hadn’t vanished. But for the first time, there was a chance.

  I had no idea what would come next, but I knew one thing—

  This moment would change everything.