What was it that let even the greatest of rulers fall in a single day?

The answer was simple.

It was women.

History had proven it time and time again. Men who conquered kingdoms, men who commanded armies, men who bent nations to their will could survive war, betrayal, famine, and the rise and fall of empires.

They could outlast rebellions and assassins. They could endure bloodshed and loss.

Yet the moment their hearts were involved, the moment love entered the picture, everything changed. The strongest men became fragile the instant they cared for someone more than themselves.

Love was not the downfall of men because women were dangerous.

It was the downfall of men because love made them human.

And humanity was the one weakness no armor could protect.

In the end, a Glassheart like Lukas fell simply because he lowered himself to become human.

The moment he allowed himself to love, he allowed himself to break. The moment he chose a family over survival, he surrendered the invincibility that once defined him.

"Kgh...!"

Julius drove the blade deeper, forcing another strangled breath out of Lukas. Nanites surged around Julius’s arm, spilling across the ground like liquid metal before snapping upward in coordinated threads.

They wrapped around Lukas’s limbs, coiling and tightening until they hardened into chains. His arms were yanked down. His legs collapsed under him. He couldn’t move an inch, pinned in place like prey.

Julius was no knight. A knight trained in the art of combat. But Julius was a Directorate operative, an institution that cared little for artistry and everything for results.

They didn’t teach swordsmanship. They taught execution. They didn’t teach how to fight. They taught how to kill.

There was no need for an elegant duel or flashy footwork. There didn’t need to be a clash of equal strength. The greatest fighters were not those with beautiful technique or unmatched martial prowess.

The greatest fighters were those who could eliminate their target without ever needing to fight at all. Even for all his brilliance and victories, Napoleon did not fall because an enemy’s sword cut him down.

He fell because the world cornered him in a place no army could save him from.

Waterloo wasn’t what killed him.

Saint Helena did.

"Ugh..."

Lukas’s face twisted in pain as the metal constricted around his limbs. Crystalline residue flickered across his skin but never fully formed. His emotional collapse had drained whatever stability he had left.

Julius leaned closer, pressing the blade another inch into Lukas’s chest until a thin stream of blood rolled down the steel and dripped onto the ground..

"Don’t struggle," Julius said. "You’re only making the bleeding worse."

Gisela screamed, "Stop, Teacher Jeremy! Please stop! You’re killing him!"

Klaus kept a firm hold of her shoulder. "Gisela, stay out of this."

"Director, please! Please, don’t kill him! I didn’t want him to die!"

Lukas turned his head weakly toward her voice. "Gisela... I’m sorry... I didn’t... want you to see this..."

Julius didn’t even look at her. His attention remained on Lukas.

"Your biggest mistake," Julius said, "was thinking you could live a peaceful life while hiding what you are."

"...."

For a long moment, no one moved. Then Lukas finally spoke.

"...Spare my family."

"...."

Julius paused. He looked down at Lukas, observing the genuine sincerity in his eyes.

"...Please," Lukas whispered. "They... don’t know anything. They shouldn’t... pay for my sins..."

"...."

Julius’s face twisted with fury as memories surged up without mercy.

When Jeremy died, he died so Julius could live. When Sabine died, the Directorate buried the truth. When his niece died, she was written off as collateral damage in a terror attack.

And when Annelise died... they made sure he watched every second of it.

So why... why does a Glassheart get to kneel in the rai and plead to keep his family alive?

"Who do you think you are—" Julius began, voice rising with a rage he had not shown all night.

——Daddy!

The shout echoed through the storm like a bolt of lightning.

For a moment, Julius’s grip faltered.

He turned his eyes toward the sound. From the end of the street, small figures in the rain appeared. It was Helga and Alina who stared straight at him.

The twins he had been personally tutoring for three long months.

Their tiny faces were streaked with tears. Their pajamas were soaked in the rain. Their eyes were wide and horrified, unable to comprehend the scene before them.

Just as Lukas had run out to find Gisela, the girls must have wandered out the open door, searching for their father with sleepy confusion that turned into terror.

"Daddy...?"

Lukas’s head snapped up despite the chains, eyes widening with despair. "H-Helga... Alina... go back...!"

But the girls didn’t move.

Their gazes were fixed on Julius, their teacher, standing over their father with a blood-soaked blade and a boot pressed against his back.

"Teacher..."

Julius’s fingers tightened around the hilt.

"Daddy... why... why is Teacher Jeremy...?"

"Daddy, get up... please..."

Lukas trembled beneath Julius’s blade, tears mixing with the rain as he stared at his daughters. "Please... don’t look..."

"Girls!"

Gisela broke free from Klaus’s hold. Klaus didn’t stop her.

Gisela sprinted toward her daughters. Helga and Alina collapsed into her arms the moment she reached them, sobbing hysterically as they embraced their mother.

"It’s alright... it’s alright, Mommy’s here," she whispered, even though nothing about the scene was alright.

"Gisela... get them out of here..." Lukas rasped. "Please... go back home..."

But the girls only cried harder at the sound of their father’s voice.

"Daddy!"

"Daddy, stand up!"

"Teacher Jeremy, stop hurting Daddy!"

"...."

The sound of those small voices shook him more than he thought. He tried to steady his grip, but the tremor remained. Then a sudden ringing echoed through the ruined street. He looked down and saw his phone on the ground, fallen out of his coat pocket.

Isolde was calling.

"Teacher Jeremy... please!"

For one brief second, Julius let the moment hang in the air. He could hear the girls crying behind him.

But he did not allow himself to hesitate.

He drew in a slow breath, tightened his grip, and moved with finality. The strike was swift enough that even the twins would not fully understand what they saw.

Lukas’s body slackened under the chains. The tension drained from his limbs as if finally surrendering at last.

The rain continued to fall in steady sheets.

The girls sobbed against their mother’s chest. Gisela clutched them tightly, shielding their faces with shaking hands.

"...."

Julius did not move.

The phone beside him continued to vibrate until the screen dimmed and Isolde’s name faded. He turned one last look at the twins’ eyes.

Julius finally turned his head. The twins’ expressions were filled with confusion, fear, and heartbreak.

Despite everything, Julius couldn’t help but admit he had grown attached to the twins.

"Ah."

Something Klaus had warned him about.