CHAPTER 435: CHAPTER 435: FIRST STEP

Later that day, Lucas stood in the east wing of the administrative palace, outside a quiet, glass-walled office marked Office of Social Policy Reform. The name sounded neutral enough. It didn’t reflect what it really was, a cleanup unit for systemic cruelty, red tape, and legacy abuse hidden behind decades of legal formality.

He keyed in his biometric code.

The door unlocked with a soft click, lights warming as he entered. The space had been prepared in advance with a polished desk, chilled water, and a docking port already synced to his identity. A sleek tablet blinked awake the moment he approached.

The first document waited on the screen. Title:

PRIVATE CONTRACTS: RIGHTS-BASED CLAUSES INVOLVING CITIZENS OF OMEGA STATUS.

A secondary note: An Expanded review was requested after the Kilmer Case.

Lucas didn’t sit down. He just stood there for a moment, one hand resting lightly on the edge of the desk, as if grounding himself before pushing a boulder off a cliff.

Then he tapped the screen and pulled up the executive command console. His credentials flashed across the top: Lucas Fitzgeralt, Grand Duke of Palatine, along with his sealed authority clearance, last confirmed by Caelan himself.

At first he was Duchess, but the title was absurd when he was a man; even as an omega, he preferred to be called the masculine versions and Trevor modified everything in less than a day.

He scrolled past the summaries, the legal references, and the archived horror that had allowed people like Misty to sell away a child’s future with a stylized signature and a notary stamp.

And then he opened the override panel.

"New directive," Lucas said aloud, activating voice-to-command for the legislative record. His voice was calm, cool, and far too steady for how fast his heart was beating.

"Effective immediately, the Empire of Palatine will prohibit and void any private contract, guardianship clause, corporate agreement, or familial consent form that includes the transfer or conditional ownership of a citizen’s reproductive rights, bodily autonomy, or secondary gender-based legal identity."

He paused. Not for the drama, he didn’t need it this time, but because the weight of the words deserved that space.

"This includes any form of sale, lease, marital bond, or transfer clause that removes consent and binds an individual to medical experimentation, gestational servitude, chemical suppression, or any related condition of status, behavior, or obedience."

His hand hovered over the confirm screen.

"All existing contracts of this nature are to be reviewed and struck down under this directive within thirty days. Noncompliance will be treated as criminal negligence under imperial law."

He tapped the sign and authorized it.

The screen lit gold.

Order 378-Ω: ENACTED.

The terminal returned to standby. Lucas let out a slow breath, finally sinking into the leather chair behind the desk. His shoulders dropped slightly from the relief that he did it.

No one else would go through what he did. Not legally, nor silence; the new act was going to be imposed not only in Palatine but in any country allied or under Palatine influence. Even if someone thought signing the contract in a country that allowed it would bypass the system, as Misty did, they were mistaken. Nothing like that would be ignored anymore

He glanced at the time; Sebastian would be waking soon.

Lucas stood again, retrieved his tablet, and slipped it into the thin case under his arm. The office lights dimmed behind him as the door hissed shut.

Some laws kept people safe.

Others were written so no one could hurt you the same way twice.

—

The announcement hit quietly. No press conference. No dramatic seal press. Just a single encrypted bulletin dropped into every terminal registered to the Imperial Council, the Department of Internal Affairs, and every embassy with active treaties under Palatine’s shadow.

But the silence didn’t soften the impact.

Within fifteen minutes, the Prime Minister of Thalora called an emergency assembly. Thirty-two active legal cases were immediately frozen. Four judges resigned.

By nightfall, ten separate embassy channels had reached out to confirm that yes, this was real, and no, it wasn’t a clerical mistake.

—

In the palace, however, the responses were more personal.

Serathine, seated in her sunroom with a glass of spiced wine and an open report on regional trade, blinked once as her aide brought in the news.

"Order 378-Ω, Your Grace," the aide said, cautious but already smiling. "It’s Lucas. He filed it under full authority. No opposition recorded."

Serathine didn’t answer right away. She set the report aside and tapped her tablet open, skimming the directive. Her fingers paused just long enough over gestational servitude that the tablet dimmed from inactivity.

Then she smiled, proud.

"About damn time."

—

Caelan, Emperor of Palatine, received the update on the private northern channel reserved for war protocol and social emergency reform. He was in the western hall, standing near the balcony with a diplomat from Virein, when the alert blinked once, silently, in his palm.

He read it once. Then again.

The Virein diplomat was still speaking when Caelan raised one hand.

"Send confirmation to the Council," he said to the steward behind him. "Full enforcement. Immediate compliance. No exceptions."

The steward bowed and left. The diplomat blinked, visibly thrown.

Caelan turned back, gaze like sharpened glass. "You were saying something about ’omega obligation’? Do go on."

The diplomat did not go on.

—

Dax laughed.

The laugh made the soldiers outside his office tense a little, even if they didn’t know why.

He sat at the head of the low council table in Saha’s Ministry Annex, long legs stretched out, boots crossed at the ankle. Chris sat to his left, pen in hand, trying to finalize the last clause of a transport deal. Or pretending to.

The message came to Dax’s terminal, blinking a warm gold.

He tapped it once.

Chris glanced up.

Dax’s mouth twitched. "Your dear friend and cousin," he said, "just criminalized half the continent’s favorite loophole."

Chris leaned over to read it. His expression didn’t shift much, but his posture did. Shoulders a little straighter. Jaw tense.

He whispered, "People are going to lose her mind."

Dax couldn’t be bothered to feign concern.

"Let them."

—

Lucius Thorne, Prince of Palatine and Minister of Legal Oversight, was already reviewing ten legacy contracts when the system override locked the documents in real time. The gold banner of Order 378-Ω stamped itself across his screen.

He leaned back slowly.

Behind him, his secretary froze mid-step. "Sir?"

Lucius didn’t look away from the screen. "Mark every regional magistrate who opposed last year’s motion as pending removal," he said quietly.

"On what grounds?"

"Obstruction of imperial welfare," Lucius replied. Then, after a pause: "And personal stupidity."

He leaned forward again, already planning the restructuring.

—

Trevor, meanwhile, didn’t need a bulletin.

He was already waiting in the nursery when Lucas returned, tablet tucked under his arm and a different weight in his eyes.

Sebastian gurgled from the crib, kicking one foot in the air like he knew something had changed.

Trevor stood.

Lucas didn’t say anything.

Trevor walked forward, took the tablet gently, and kissed him, once, on the forehead.

"Good," Trevor said. "Now we build the rest."