The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL]

Ironically, the only people whose blood pressure remained relatively stable throughout the night were the sedated twins themselves.

Completely oblivious to everything that had transpired, they had no idea that all the work they’d painstakingly accomplished had been undone before the day was even over.

Even worse for them, they still didn’t know they were now confined within the Empire.

Still, they were sleeping rather comfortably for two criminals who, under different circumstances, probably would’ve been filleted by the countless people currently furious with them.

Perhaps that was the only advantage they still had.

Since neither their bloodline ability nor their crimes could be exposed without also compromising Luca and Jax, the Empire had little choice but to detain them under the guise of protection. Everyone knew House Luxastra would immediately drag the Empire’s reputation through the mud the moment the twins were publicly accused without irrefutable evidence.

Ideally, that shouldn’t have been a big concern. Under normal circumstances, presenting proof would’ve been enough to settle any accusations of defamation.

Unfortunately, they weren’t dealing with a normal enemy.

When someone’s ability could alter another’s perception, proving anything suddenly became a great deal more complicated because it no longer mattered who was right or wrong. In fact, the more they buried the twins and the Aeruns under accusations, the more intense the scrutiny they’d receive from their brainwashed supporters.

At that point, they could only hope the Elders, who had volunteered to stay up through the night, would uncover something useful from that damned incense.

The twins, however, weren’t the only ones having an eventful evening.

Their attendants were faring considerably worse.

Safe to say, they were having the kind of heart-racing night no one ever wished for.

After deciding to flee while attempting to smuggle information out of Planet Nova through every underhanded escape route they could think of, they ended up being chased through military territory like cornered rats. By the time Count Alexander had finished toying with them, Marshal Julian had more than enough justification to formally detain every last one of them.

Apparently, they’d forgotten one very important detail.

This wasn’t the Imperial Capital.

This was Planet Nova.

The literal headquarters of the Empire’s Military.

If certain exits looked suspiciously convenient, then perhaps they should’ve stopped to wonder why.

After all, it was significantly easier and considerably cheaper to catch criminals when they willingly walked into the funnel themselves.

And they had done exactly that.

__

Meanwhile, the victims of the twins’ ability weren’t exactly enjoying peaceful nights either. Though by the end of it all, that description probably suited the guards watching over them far more than the victims themselves.

The single master mechanics were too stunned and confused to sleep, spending the entire night chastising themselves.

Their less solitary friends, however, had entirely different concerns. While the lone wolves (bones) were busy holding themselves accountable, many of the married ones were currently getting their asses handed to them both horizontally and vertically.

Surprisingly, rather than sympathy, most of them were being greeted with the kind of scolding usually reserved for particularly hopeless children.

”That absolute dingbat!” one allegedly gentle lady exclaimed anonymously. ”I knew something stupid had happened the moment I got that message! That old geezer can barely remember where he left his medication most days, and you’re telling me he suddenly remembered someone enough to actually cheat? We’d be lucky if he could even remember the name of anyone who isn’t physically a mecha!”

Another immediately chimed in.

”Exactly! The chances of us getting replaced by mechas are honestly much higher than getting replaced by another living, breathing person.”

She paused.

”Now, if mechas suddenly started talking again... then we’d actually have a problem.”

”...”

”...”

Clearly, that was a threat to one pure guardian mecha and one moonlighting mecha, both of whom knew better than to disclose their existence lest they become embroiled in the scandals of the century.

Apparently, that was far worse than being chased around by enemy factions. At least enemies could be shot.

Thankfully, the frustrated partners had other things to complain about instead of fixating on some innocent beings...

”And look!” another indignant voice continued. ”Sure enough, our instincts were right! Leave it to these people to attend a cadet’s licensure examination only to end up getting bewitched by people even older than they are! It’s like they’ve lived for over a century and still forgot that they’re not supposed to talk to strangers!”

That certainly wasn’t the only painfully accurate observation made that night.

Similar remarks continued flying from every direction.

As the hours stretched on, however, the tone of those heated arguments gradually shifted.

The shouting slowly became quieter.

The pitch became... suspiciously different.

Several guards stationed nearby silently exchanged glances.

One of them rubbed his ears.

Another looked toward the ceiling.

None of them acknowledged what they were hearing.

But all of them privately agreed that, by the end of the night, earplugs would’ve been an invaluable piece of military equipment because old people could get wildly frisky.

Heavens help them all!

__

As for those closest to the already slumbering Luca Kyros and the stars of the day’s spectacle, they were all experiencing varying degrees of heart palpitations.

For starters, there was Oliver Mylor.

The blonde had spent the better part of the evening peppering his husband with one anxious question after another.

What if the mecha refuses to start tomorrow?

What if Zelunium needed more time to cure because the environment outside the dungeon space wasn’t ideal?

What if something goes wrong?

The worries simply refused to stop coming.

Kyle listened patiently while trying to calm his little star, silently considering how best to reassure him, when his terminal suddenly rang.

The unexpected sound immediately drew both their attention.

”Who’s calling at this hour?!” Ollie exclaimed, glaring suspiciously at the device before narrowing his eyes at his husband. ”Are you getting calls this late because I’ve been too busy to love on you enough lately? Or is it because my face has been bloated recently?!”

Kyle stared at him for a second before nearly laughing.

If anyone had told him Ollie would one day accuse him of cheating, he never would’ve guessed those would be the reasons. Out of every possibility, his wife hadn’t asked whether Kyle no longer loved him. Instead, he was worried about not showering him with enough affection lately and whether his face had become puffy.

His priorities really were something else.

Still curious about who could possibly be calling at such an hour, Kyle went to look at his terminal. With how they’d been shooed away earlier, Xavier certainly wouldn’t contact him tonight unless a populated planet had exploded or the Empire was somehow on the verge of annihilation.

To both their surprise, however, the caller wasn’t Xavier.

It was Owen Mylor.