Nine months had passed since the war ended.
The empire had transformed swiftly, its monarchy dismantled and replaced with a fledgling democracy. With Sheng Long's guidance, the transition had been smooth, and the newly elected president—wise and steady—took the reins to steer the people into a new era. The Zerg had been fully eradicated, the last of their hives cleansed. Peace had finally settled over the stars.
But in a serene villa just beyond the capital's reach, peace was nowhere to be found.
"The contractions are two and a half minutes apart!" the medic announced, a little too loudly for comfort.
Marshal Sheng Long, once the nightmare of the Zerg and the empire's greatest war hero, was pacing the length of the room like a restless beast. His long coat had been discarded, his hair was a mess, and he was clutching Xiao Lin's dragon pendant like a lifeline.
"Too close! That's too close, right?! What if he's in pain?! What if something happens?!"
Yan Shuo sipped calmly from a drink nearby and raised a brow. "You do realize he's the one giving birth, not you."
Sheng Long stopped and glared at him. "Don't be smug."
"I'm not the one panicking like a ger whose favorite pastries sold out."
Inside the birthing room, Xiao Lin winced but chuckled weakly. "Can someone tell Sheng Long he's scaring the medics more than me?"
The hours dragged like days. Finally, cries echoed through the room.
Two cries.
Sheng Long rushed in just as the medic announced joyfully, "Both healthy. A boy and a ger."
The world seemed to stop for a moment.
Xiao Lin, tear-streaked but radiant, cradled two small bundles in his arms. "Come meet them," he whispered.
The boy had snowy white hair, soft and wild like clouds, and gleaming golden eyes that burned like starlight—Sheng Long's unmistakable mark.
The ger had silky black hair and shimmering ruby eyes, a mirror of Xiao Lin's quiet, inner strength.
Sheng Long knelt beside them, reverently touching the boy's tiny hand. "They're… perfect."
Xiao Lin leaned his head on Sheng Long's shoulder. "We made something beautiful."
Lu Jian peeked around the door with a gentle smile. Yan Shuo followed, grinning. "So? Did the Marshal faint?"
"No," Xiao Lin said softly. "But he came close."
"I did not!" Sheng Long huffed—right before both babies began to cry, and he instinctively jumped back like a frightened colt.
Xiao Lin laughed through exhaustion. "War hero. Terrified of diapers."
Later, as the villa quieted and stars began to peek into the night sky, Sheng Long held both children, one in each arm, while Xiao Lin rested nearby.
"I never imagined this," Sheng Long whispered. "Peace. A home. A family."
"You've earned it," Xiao Lin murmured sleepily. "We both have."
Sheng Long looked at the small dragon and fox carvings hanging over the crib. One gold. One white. Intertwined.
"Let them be wild. Let them be strong," he said. "And let them always know they were born from love."
Outside, the stars sang. And within the quiet of night, a new legacy took its first breaths.