The emerald glow from the terminal cast an unnerving pallor over Korin Bael’s face. He stared at the stark message, his mouth working silently, as if trying to chew on the words. “A… a marriage certificate?” Korin finally croaked, the sound raw and broken. His gaze jerked between Rizka, Zenkai, and the terminal console. “No, no, this is *my* server! *My* data! I can upload mine. I’ll… I’ll remarry her! Right now!” He lunged towards Rizka, a hand outstretched, a pathetic plea forming on his lips. Before he could take a second step, a wall of pure muscle materialized. Rizka’s eldest brother, Daxen Voda, stepped between them, his tailored ballistic weave blotting out the console light. “You had your chance, Bael. Sixty days ago.” Daxen’s voice rasped low. From the arena floor, the other six Voda brothers ascended, their golden private air-cars hovering outside the breach in the reinforced plasteel wall. They moved with the synchronized precision of a well-oiled machine, each pulling out their dataslates. On the arena’s enormous screens, which had just moments ago flashed doomsday, new data scrolled rapidly: Bael Holdings’ stock plummeted, its subsidiary companies, the very ones Korin had used to leverage his position, were being systematically acquired. Each acquisition flashed with the Voda family crest, a stylized serpent ouroboros. “Your mining consortium, Obsidian Mineshafts? Ours,” announced Kenneth Voda, barely glancing up from his datapad. “Your research and development division, Apex Innovations? Also ours,” added Renwick Voda, a cruel smile playing on his lips. “Your entire media conglomerate, Xylos Voice? We’re just buying it to shut it down,” finished Rhys Voda, his tone utterly bored. Korin watched the live broadcasts broadcast his plummeting equity scores to the entire arena bowl. His lower lip twitched, yet he produced no argument. “The Xylos Regulators,” Daxen Voda stated, gesturing with a snap of his fingers. Two stern-faced officers in dark, polished uniforms stepped into the core room. “For corporate treason, market manipulation, and the attempted endangerment of Xylos’s citizenry via engineered grid collapse.” Korin collapsed to his knees as two regulators clamped magnetic restraints onto his wrists. As the officers led him out, he cast one last, pathetic glance at Rizka, who merely blinked slowly, already half-asleep on her feet. Zenkai stepped then, moving with a quiet grace. He reached into the inner pocket of his impeccably tailored suit jacket, retrieving a small, velvet box. He dropped to one knee across the carbon-scored tiles. In his outstretched hand, nestled on a bed of dark silk, gleamed a ring: a single, flawless black diamond, cut with an ancient, forgotten geometry, set into an obsidian band. “Rizka,” he said, his voice level. “You mentioned you prioritize good naps. I happen to own the most comfortable memory-foam mattresses in Xylos. Multiple, in various residences. All equipped with top-tier soundproofing and climate control, set to your preferred ambient temperature of 21.3 degrees Celsius.” He met her gaze, a faint, genuine smile playing on his lips. “Would you consider sharing one, permanently? And perhaps, saving the entire world from a truly disastrous headache in the process?” Rizka tilted her head, a slow, unhurried smile spreading across her features. Her eyes, usually heavy-lidded, seemed to hold a fleeting spark of amusement. “Memory foam, you say?” “The finest. Guaranteed to induce a week-long REM cycle.” Zenkai’s smile deepened. “My biometrics are ready, if you’ll have them.” She nodded, a small, almost imperceptible gesture. “Sounds… unbothered.” She accepted the ring, sliding it onto her finger. The black diamond caught the residual green backlighting from the console. Then, with a casualness that belied the global stakes, she turned to the terminal. With a practiced ease, she linked her datapad, Zenkai’s biometric data flowed into the core, and then, with one final, decisive tap, she initiated the upload of the digital marriage certificate. The emerald display flashed green across the terminal casing. [NEURAL GRID STABILITY PROTOCOL: BIOMETRIC LOCK CONFIRMED] [GRID INTEGRITY: PERMANENTLY SEALED] [GLOBAL THREAT: NEUTRALIZED] The words blazed across every screen in Xylos, confirming what the world had just witnessed. From a hidden alcove, Jettio, still wired on espresso, fist-pumped the air. His datapad, a mosaic of multi-colored code, whirred contentedly. “Nailed it! Every second, every identity reveal, all on record! My portfolio is going to break the internet!” He zoomed in on a close-up of Rizka, the grandmaster, the weapons designer, the hacker, now simply a woman with a sleepy smile, standing next to her new husband. “Top-tier. Absolutely top-tier.” Hours later, in the hushed, cavernous silence of Zenkai’s penthouse, Rizka was finally, truly unbothered. Curled against his side on a vast, cloud-like memory-foam mattress, her head tucked under his chin, she was utterly, completely asleep. The soft hum of the city, filtered through layers of soundproofing, was a distant lullaby. Zenkai shifted, gently pulling a cashmere throw higher over her shoulders. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. The most dangerous woman in Xylos, the one who had just saved them all, was finally, irrevocably, undisturbed. The sign on her mind, if one could see it, simply read: *Do Not Disturb*.