Chapter 38: Retirement

The months passed more quickly than Magali expected. The sharp edges of grief had slowly softened into something quieter. Conrad's absence was still woven into every part of her life, but it no longer consumed every waking thought. Instead, another life steadily demanded more of her attention. The child growing inside her.

Her pregnancy had reached the third trimester now. The gentle swell that had once barely shown had become unmistakable, and every kick reminded her that she wasn't preparing for a distant future anymore. It was almost time.

That morning, she sat quietly in Doctor Sohma's office, one hand resting absentmindedly over her stomach while the doctor reviewed a thick prenatal folder resting on his desk. The report had been prepared by Doctor Arai, the obstetrician overseeing her pregnancy, and several colorful charts and notes peeked out from between the pages.

Doctor Sohma adjusted his glasses as he finished reading the final page, "Well, I don't believe I have ever been happier to read a report."

Magali smiled nervously, "So… everything's alright?"

Doctor Sohma closed the folder and nodded, "More than alright. Doctor Arai has nothing but positive things to say. Your blood pressure is excellent. The baby's growth is exactly where we'd expect it to be. Heartbeat is strong. Development is completely normal." He looked up at her with genuine warmth. "From a medical standpoint, this has been a remarkably healthy pregnancy."

The tension Magali hadn't realized she was carrying finally eased from her shoulders. He folded his hands and continued, "And… I can also tell you've been listening to your assigned caregiver."

Magali laughed softly, "Roberta?"

"Who else?" he replied. "According to these notes, you've been taking your prenatal vitamins consistently, maintaining a balanced diet, and attending every appointment without fail." He flipped through another page. "Doctor Arai even commented that whoever is helping you at home deserves some credit."

Magali couldn't help but smile, "She won't let me skip a meal."

Doctor Sohma laughed, "I had a feeling."

"Even when I tell her I'm not hungry," Magali continued, "she reminds me I'm eating for two now."

"A wise woman." He leaned back comfortably in his chair. "Nutrition during these last few months is especially important. Your baby's bones, brain, and immune system are all continuing to develop rapidly. Everything you've been doing has contributed to the excellent results we're seeing."

Magali gently rubbed her stomach as another small kick greeted her hand.

The movement made Doctor Sohma smile. "I believe your little one agrees."

She looked down, smiling to herself, "I think… Conrad would've been happy."

Doctor Sohma's expression softened, "I think so too."

For a few quiet moments, neither of them spoke. Sohma smiled, but it slowly faded. Years of treating patients had taught him that medicine wasn't always about reading charts. Sometimes it was about reading people. And Magali wasn't fooling him.

"You've been quiet today," he said casually.

She looked up, "Hmm?"

Doctor Sohma folded his hands together. "Your pregnancy is progressing beautifully. Your health is excellent. Your baby is healthy. But something is still bothering you."

Magali immediately shook her head, "Oh… I'm fine."

He smiled knowingly, "I've heard those two words from hundreds of patients. And they're usually followed by something important."

A small, embarrassed laugh escaped her. She should have known better than to try to hide her feelings. Doctors are trained to see even the smallest hints of hesitations. And Magali has been worried for a long time. Its impossible to hide.

Doctor Sohma continued gently, "You don't have to tell me. But if you'd like to, I'm willing to listen."

Silence settled over the office. Magali stared down at her hands resting over her stomach. Finally, she sighed, "I don't know what I'm supposed to do after the baby is born. I've been thinking about it for weeks. I don't even know if I want to continue being an idol."

The admission seemed to surprise even herself. Still, she continued, "I still love performing. I still love making people smile. But… When I imagine leaving my baby at home while I travel… I don't know if I can do it."

She rested a protective hand against her stomach. "I've already lost Conrad. I don't want to miss my child's life too."

Another sigh escaped her. "But… I don't want to leave the city either. This is not just a place my mom met my dad. This city is where Conrad chased his dream. It's where we met. It's where we fell in love. It's where he's buried. Leaving Sweetdance City almost feels like leaving Conrad behind. So I'm stuck. I don't know whether I should stay. And I don't know whether I should perform. I don't know what my future even looks like anymore."

Doctor Sohma nodded slowly, "Those are difficult questions. But I don't think they're as impossible as they seem."

Magali looked at him as he continued, "You don't have to continue your idol career, it can be put on pause. You've already given this city wonderful performances. No one would think less of you if you decided your child comes first."

He smiled warmly, "Raise your son or daughter. Be a mother. And when you're ready… If you're ever ready… the stage will still be here."

He gestured toward the city outside, "Sweetdance City isn't going anywhere. The audience isn't going anywhere. And I believe they'll welcome you back whenever you decide the time is right."

Magali considered his words, "Really?"

"I'm certain of it," he said. There was no deceit in his boice. No rehearsal of a medical professional trying to keep idols in the city. Just a person who wants whats best for his patient.

A weight seemed to lift from her shoulders. She had been thinking in absolutes. Either remain an idol. Or leave forever. She could wait, and return when she was ready.

After another moment of silence, Magali frowned slightly, "But…"

Doctor Sohma chuckled, "There's always a 'but' with idols. But go ahead, I'm listening."

"Is it even possible to be a successful idol after such a long break?" she asked. After all, many idols don't want to go on leave because reestablishing their fanbase is very difficult.

Doctor Sohma took a deep breath. There was always that conversation, "I admit that coming back to the stage is very difficult. But if you have touched the lives of enough people, then they will come back. Have you seen people who hasn't been on stage for years and still maintain their fans?"

Magali thought for a second. She remembered Rose, also known as Neko Rosa. When she came on stage to present Magali and Seasons, the people remembered her. She was so confident of her fanbase that she referred herself as "Your Favorite Idol". Even Balto was remembered fondly from his prime days. After twenty years, his prescence on stage made the audience erupt in cheers.

She laughed, "Even if I take a break, what do I do for work? I still have to provide for my baby."

Doctor Sohma's smile widened, "I was hoping you'd ask. I have a position available."

Magali looked at him curiously, "…You do?"

He nodded, "I'd like you to work here."

She stared at him, "…Me? I don't know anything about medicine."

"I wouldn't expect you to." He folded his hands. "Do you remember the first time we met?"

Magali nodded immediately, "Khefner…"

Doctor Sohma's expression became solemn. "I told you that idols often avoid medical treatment because they're afraid."

Magali nodded again, "Afraid they'll lose their careers. Afraid someone will replace them. Afraid the audience will forget them."

He sighed, "And because of that fear… they hide injuries. They delay treatment. They convince themselves they'll recover on their own."

His thoughts briefly returned to Khefner, "We've lost too many talented people that way."

Magali lowered her eyes. "I know. I watched it happen."

He nodded, "Then I asked if you were ever hurt. You were brave enough to tell me the truth. I was worried that you would never return to have your ankle examined. And you came back. You had your ankle examined. You followed through. You trusted me."

He smiled, "That matters. Not just for me, but to others who are not as brave as you were. I can explain injuries. I can prescribe treatment. I can perform surgery."

He spread his hands. "But I can't always reach an idol who's terrified that walking into my office because they believe that it means the end of their dream. You can. Because you've lived that life. You understand the pressure. You know what it's like to fear losing everything. You know what it's like to stand backstage. You know what it's like to wonder whether one injury could end your career."

He leaned forward, "I think many young idols would listen to you long before they'd listen to me."

She blinked. Magali looked at him, beginning to understand. The idea slowly settled into her mind. Saving the lives of idols who are too afraid.

"You wouldn't be replacing nurses or physicians," Doctor Sohma continued. "You'd become an advocate. You'd help injured idols feel safe seeking treatment. You'd reassure them that taking care of themselves isn't giving up. You'd help them navigate recovery and support them until they're ready to return to the stage."

His smile softened, "You could protect future idols from making the same mistake Khefner did."

Magali sat in thoughtful silence. For the first time since Conrad's death, someone wasn't asking her to choose between motherhood and her identity. Doctor Sohma was offering a way to combine them. To remain part of the world Conrad loved. Not by standing beneath the spotlight, but by helping ensure that the next generation of idols could continue shining beneath it.

Magali sat quietly, letting Doctor Sohma's words settle in. The office fell silent. Doctor Sohma didn't interrupt her thoughts. Instead, he simply leaned back in his chair and folded his hands across his lap.

Finally, he smiled. "You don't have to decide today. This isn't an emergency."

He gestured toward the prenatal report resting on his desk. "Right now, your priority is finishing this pregnancy safely and preparing to welcome your child into the world. You'll have plenty of sleepless nights to think about your future afterward."

That earned a small laugh from Magali.

Doctor Sohma continued gently. "My offer isn't going anywhere. If you decide motherhood is all you want for now, I'll be happy for you. If you decide you want to return to the stage immediately, I'll still support you. And if one day you decide you'd like to work here… my door will always be open."

Magali nodded gratefully, "Thank you, Doctor."

He stood and walked her toward the door. "Take all the time you need."

That evening, Magali sat quietly on the edge of her bed. The room was dimly lit by the orange glow of the setting sun. One hand rested over her stomach while the other absentmindedly traced the edge of Conrad's pillow.

Doctor Sohma's offer lingered in her thoughts. Helping injured idols, supporting them, encouraging them not to hide their injuries.

She closed her eyes. Conrad had once told her something very important:

"You see Mags, the life of an idol is full of joy and happiness. At the same time, it ends with regret, disappointment, and sadness. Everyone in Sweet Dance City came with a story that continues through their idol career. Some stories are better than others. But as scary as that fact is, all of us can only do our best and hope nothing bad happens along the way."

At the time, she hadn't fully understood what he meant. Now, she was beginning to. Her thoughts drifted through the people she had met:

Yuiichi came to mind first. When his days on the stage came to an end, he hadn't allowed himself to become bitter or disappear from the city that had given him so much. Instead, he brought his family's cherished recipes to Sweetdance City, opening a place where idols could gather, rest, and share a warm meal. Whenever a nervous newcomer forgot to eat before a rehearsal or looked overwhelmed by the pressures of idol life, Yuiichi was there with a smile, a kind word, and a hot plate of food. In his own quiet way, he continued nurturing the city's future, proving that an idol could inspire people even without standing beneath the spotlight.

Kelsi had found her own path as well. While raising her daughter, she worked alongside Yuiichi every day, greeting customers with the same bright smile that had once captivated audiences from the stage. There was no resentment in her heart for the life she had chosen. If anything, she looked toward the future with quiet optimism, believing that when the time was right, she might perform again. Until then, she poured the same warmth and dedication into her daughter and her work that she had once devoted to her audiences.

Then there was Ryu. When his devastating injury brought his idol career to an abrupt end, he never abandoned the city or the people who believed in him. He found purpose at the nursery, caring for children and the community that had become his home. He fell in love, became a husband, and devoted himself to raising Tarlya while welcoming countless other children into his life with the same patience and kindness. And when Conrad needed him most, Ryu returned to the stage without hesitation. It wasn't because he had remained an active idol—it was because once an idol gives their heart to Sweetdance City, that part of them never truly disappears.

And then there was Conrad.

Even after losing his idol license, he never allowed pride to stand in the way of honest work. He stocked shelves at a convenience store, greeted customers with the same cheerful smile he once reserved for concert halls, and treated every person he met with genuine kindness. He never complained about what he had lost, nor did he ever consider ordinary work beneath him. He simply kept moving forward, smiling, laughing, and helping others wherever he could.

Perhaps that was the greatest lesson Conrad had left behind. Being an idol had never been just a career, nor was it measured by sold-out performances or thunderous applause. It was a way of living—a commitment to lifting others up, inspiring hope, and bringing joy to the people around you. Even after the music stopped, Conrad had remained an idol in every way that truly mattered.

Magali slowly smiled. Maybe that was the lesson he'd been trying to teach her all along. Being an idol wasn't limited to standing beneath bright lights. It wasn't measured by concerts or applause. It was measured by whether your actions inspired hope in someone else.

Doctor Sohma's offer suddenly felt less like leaving her career, and more like continuing it in a different way.

She looked down as the baby shifted beneath her hand.

"You know…" she whispered softly, "I don't have to decide everything today."

Another gentle kick answered her. A quiet laugh escaped her lips.

"And if I decide I miss the stage someday…"

Her eyes wandered toward a framed photograph of Conrad smiling at the camera with his guitar slung over his shoulder. Conrad proved something. Ryu had returned. Conrad had returned, even if only once. Neither of them had stopped being idols simply because life had taken them away from the stage.

When the time was right, they found their way back. Perhaps, one day, she could too. But for now, she smiled warmly as she rested both hands over her child. Her audience of thousands could wait. There was someone far more important waiting to meet her. Her most important fan. And the most important person she would ever perform for.

The following afternoon, Magali walked down the familiar marble hallway leading to the Council Chamber. Her footsteps echoed through the quiet hallway. She had walked this path many times before. As an applicant, an idol, as Conrad's wife, as a grieving widow. Now today, she walked it as a mother.

The massive doors opened before her. The secretary stepped aside, and introduced, "Miss Magali Artisan has arrived."

The eleven members of the Council were already seated around the circular chamber. Scorpio occupied the central chair as always, while Gemini, Capricorn, Aquarius, Cancer, and the remaining members watched quietly as Magali entered. No one spoke. They all noticed the same thing. Her pregnancy had advanced considerably.

The young woman who had once danced across their stages now carried the next generation beneath her heart. Magali stopped before the Council table and bowed respectfully.

"Thank you for seeing me."

Scorpio inclined his head, "Always."

He studied her expression for a moment before continuing, "I see that you've made a decision."

Magali nodded, "I have. I've come to formally announce my retirement from idol activities."

Silence filled the chamber. No one appeared surprised. In truth, most of them had expected this day.

Gemini lowered her eyes sadly.

Aquarius quietly folded her hands.

Cancer removed his glasses, rubbing them slowly with a handkerchief.

Even Scorpio's normally unreadable expression softened.

No one argued. No one asked her to reconsider. How could they? Every person in the room knew what she had sacrificed.

They had watched Conrad give his final performance. They had watched Magali bury her husband while carrying his child. None of them possessed the heart to ask her to return beneath the lights.

Scorpio slowly opened a drawer in the Council table. Without a word, he removed a single document. He slid it across the polished wood until it stopped in front of Magali.

The title read: Notice of Voluntary Retirement from Active Idol Service

Beneath it were only a few short paragraphs. The document confirmed that Magali was voluntarily stepping away from performances and promotional activities. Her license would remain in good standing. Should she ever wish to return, she would only need to notify the Council and complete a medical evaluation plus a second entrance exam to resume active duties.

There were no penalties. No expiration. No deadline. Simply, a pause.

Scorpio finally spoke, "This is not a dismissal. Your accomplishments remain part of this city's history. And should the day ever come when you wish to stand on the stage again, Sweetdance City will welcome you to the stage."

Magali felt tears gathering once more. She nodded silently. Taking the pen resting beside the document, she carefully signed her name: Magali-Anna Artisan.

The scratching of the pen against paper echoed through the otherwise silent room. When she finished, she slid the document back across the table. Scorpio accepted it. He looked at the signature for several seconds before carefully placing the document inside a leather folder.

Then they stood. One by one. The Council members bowed before. Not for a performance. Not for an award. Not for a celebration. But out of respect.

Scorpio spoke first, "Thank you for everything you've given this city."

Magali returned the bow, "Thank you for giving me a place to call home."

For a long moment, no one moved. Finally, Scorpio spoke once more, "You came to Sweetdance City as an idol."

His gaze fell briefly to the child she carried. "I suspect you'll leave this chamber today with an even greater title. A mother."

She smiled, "I think that's the title I'm looking forward to the most."

With that, she turned and quietly walked toward the great doors. They opened before her. As she stepped into the hallway, the doors closed gently behind her. For the first time since she was seventeen years old, Magali Artisan was no longer an active idol.

And somehow, instead of feeling like an ending, it felt like the beginning of an entirely new song.

Several days later, the Council Chamber felt heavier than it had in years. No one spoke as Capricorn connected a projector to the large display mounted against the wall. A series of charts filled the screen. They told the story of recent attendance records, ticket sales, hotel occupancy, restaurant revenue and merchandise sales. Every graph told the same story; downward.

Capricorn adjusted his glasses before breaking the silence, "Our latest financial report has been completed."

He pressed a button and continued, "The city's monthly visitation has fallen to its lowest point in twenty years."

No one reacted. They had expected bad news, though it was worse than they imagined. The past twenty years since they assumed the position of council members were a roller coaster of successes and failures. But these numbers are far worse than they expected.

Capricorn advanced to the next slide, "Overall revenue generated through tourism has decreased by forty-two percent compared to the same period last year."

Another slide, "The average attendance per performance has dropped below sixty percent capacity. Several performances this week operated at a financial loss."

The room remained silent. Finally Aquarius sighed, "We all know why."

No one argued. Cancer removed his glasses, rubbing his tired eyes. "This downfall got significantly worse after what happened to Conrad."

The words hung heavily over the room. No one needed further explanation. The entire world had watched one of Sweetdance City's greatest idols collapse during his farewell performance. Even though everyone understood he had been terminally ill, the image of Conrad dying on stage refused to leave the public consciousness.

Gemini folded her hands quietly, "People trusted us."

Her voice carried obvious sadness as she continued to speak, "They believed the stage was a place where dreams came true."

She looked toward her husband Scorpio who shares her grief, "Now some of them see it as the place where dreams end."

Another painful silence settled over the chamber. Capricorn advanced to another report, "And then, after Miss Artisan announced her retirement, the graph dipped even further. We experienced another significant decline immediately afterward."

Cancer sighed deeply, "It makes sense. The tevent public associated Sweetdance City with the two superstars of the city. Our prodigy Conrad, and Julian's daughter Magali. They watched their relationship grow. They celebrated their marriage. Then they mourned Conrad's death. And now, Magali has stepped away."

He looked around the room, "To many visitors, that feels like the end of an era."

Virgo's vacant chair seemed strangely noticeable. One by one, the city's brightest stars had disappeared. He was the clue as to why they were vanishing for the last twenty years. And now he's gone. Laid to rest shortly after his incarceration.

Conrad was gone.

Khefner was gone.

Brandon sat in prison.

Ryu had retired, and now Magali as well.

Julian had left decades ago after Katrina passed on to raise his children.

Since then, dozens of the most talented idols vanished, starting with Meredith, Conrad's mother.

Time after, tradegy hit the city. They recovered, but they don't know if they can this time.

The younger generation remained. Talented, dedicated, and hardworking. But they carried an impossible burden. They can't replace the stars that brought people to the city.

Aquarius spoke softly, "Our surviving idols are doing everything they can."

Gemini nodded, "Our newer idols have been working longer hours. They've even volunteered for additional performances. They've accepted more public appearances."

She smiled sadly, "They're really trying."

"No one doubts that," said Capricorn as he changed to another report. "But enthusiasm doesn't create seats."

An overhead photograph of Dance Square appeared. Entire sections sat empty. Rows upon rows of vacant chairs stretched toward the back of the theater. It was a sight none of them ever imagined seeing in their lifetimes.

Cancer looked away, "I remember when I was a child of people camping overnight just to buy tickets."

"So do I," said Saggitarius

"Now…," Capricorn looked back at the image. "…some afternoons we don't even reach the minimum attendance necessary to cover operating expenses."

Aquarius quietly added, "There have been days when we would've lost less money by canceling the performance all together."

No one wanted to hear those words, but they were true. The city's economy revolved around idols. Hotel reservations, restaurants, transportation, souvenir shops, photography studios, dance schools, tailors, musicians. Thousands of idol families depended upon tourism. And when visitors stop coming, everyone suffers.

Scorpio had remained silent throughout the entire meeting. Finally, he stood. Every eye turned toward him. He tapped a button on a remote which opened the windows. The lights above them shining like constallations dimmed as he slowly walked toward the large window overlooking the Dance Square.

The streets below stood empty. Workers were preparing for that evening's performance. Years ago, people would already be gathering outside. Today, only a handful of visitors wandered the plaza.

Scorpio clasped his hands behind his back. "The city has survived tradegies. It has survived scandals. It has survived natural disasters. But this?"

He looked down at the nearly empty square, "…this is something different." The room remained silent.

"For decades," Scorpio continued, "people came here because they believed our greatest idols would always be here."

His reflection stared back at him through the glass, "But legends do not live forever."

No one disagreed. The Council had spent years preparing successors. Training the next generation. Ensuring the city would never depend upon a single performer. Yet despite all their planning, they had overlooked something.

The passing of a generation was not merely the loss of talent.

It was the loss of familiarity and trust. Visitors hadn't simply come to watch performances. They had come to see Conrad. To see Magali. To cheer for Ryu. To watch Khefner.

Those names had become synonymous with Sweetdance City itself. Replacing performers was possible. Replacing memories was not.

Behind him, the Council sat in thoughtful silence, each member recognizing the same difficult truth. Scorpio slowly returned to his seat at the head of the circular table. He rested both hands upon the polished wood before looking around at the eleven councilors.

"We all recognize the situation." His voice remained calm, but there was an unmistakable gravity behind it. "Complaining about it will not fill our theaters. We have enough capital to keep running for about five years, unless another massive controversy makes our situation worse."

He paused. "I want solutions. If we can't find one in three years, we have no choice but to give the last two to the idols to do their final performances. And then, the city will shut down. The world will then be on its own."

The chamber remained quiet for several seconds before Gemini was the first to speak. She straightened in her chair, her golden eyes thoughtful, "I believe we're looking too far ahead."

Several council members turned toward her. She took a deep breath before she spoke her idea, "Our city has always thrived because every generation trained the next one. We've lost several of our brightest stars within a short period of time. And that cannot be replaced overnight."

She looked toward Scorpio and smiled, "But it can be rebuilt. I propose expanding recruitment. We should encourage every active idol to mentor new applicants. And we need to reduce the barrier to entry."

Cancer raised an eyebrow, "In what way?"

Her expression became more serious, "Our gender imbalance. For every male idol entering the city, two or more female idols enter with them"

Capricorn sighed. He knew this point would have been brought up. It has many times. "That imbalance has existed for decades. Fans has always favored female idols. Not because they are better idols, but because women has always been more fashionable, more colorful, more appealing to the eyes. It has been that way for generations."

"It has," Gemini agreed, "but we can no longer afford to continue it. After all, boy bands, especially in the eastern countries are on the rise. We've fallen behind. Conrad and Ryu proves it."

She clasped her hands together. "If we make the examination process less intimidating for young men, offer additional training programs after the entrance examination, and give them more opportunities to develop and work together..."

She smiled gently, "…we'll naturally increase the number of male performers. Have our own boy idol groups. Appease to a broader audience and give our single women a better chance at marriage and children."

Gemini smiled, "We aren't replacing Conrad or Magali. No one can. But we can begin cultivating the next generation before another crisis leaves us unprepared."

Scorpio quietly made a note, "A fine long-term solution."

Before anyone else could speak, Sagittarius leaned forward enthusiastically, "I'd like to add something to Gemini's idea."

Scorpio gestured for him to continue. "Our performances have become… predictable."

Several council members frowned. Sagittarius quickly raised both hands, "Not in a bad way. Just, too familiar."

He stood and grabbed the remote to start his own presentation, "I've been reviewing feedback from recent visitors."

Dozens of comments appeared on the display. Many of them do say that the performances are beautiful and filled with wonderful dancers. But then the negative or neutral comments showed up:

"I'd like to hear different styles of music."

"Everything sounds similar."

"The council must be filled with old and out of touch business people who don't understand modern culture."

Sagittarius looked around the room, "The world is changing. So are musical tastes. There are entirely new genres becoming popular. Different rhythms. Different instruments. Different choreography."

He gestured toward the comments, "As Gemini suggested, our visitors aren't asking us to abandon tradition. They're asking us to expand it."

Cancer nodded thoughtfully, "A broader repertoire."

"Exactly," Sagittarius grinned before flicking his remote. "If visitors know they can experience styles of music they can't hear anywhere else, they'll have another reason to visit Sweetdance City."

Scorpio made another note, "A medium-term solution, but its a fine idea."

For a moment, optimism slowly returned to the room. Then, a soft sigh echoed across the chamber. Pisces slowly crossed one leg over the other. She was impeccably dressed as always, her shimmering lavender gown catching the light with every subtle movement. Delicate crystal ornaments framed her long chestnut hair, giving her an almost ethereal appearance that contrasted sharply with the skepticism in her amber eyes. She looked unimpressed.

"You're both proposing the same mistake," she said flatly.

The room became quiet again. Pisces leaned lazily against the arm of her chair, "Spend more money. Recruit more idols. Train more idols. Introduce new music. More instructors. More costumes. More marketing."

Then her gaze landed toward Gemini with a condescending frown, "And more recruitment programs. Kinda strange that all of our money is going to the wife of the leader of the council."

The room became tense, but Scorpio held his temper.

Pisces folded her hands, "We're throwing money into a sinking hole. The city's income is already declining. Our attendance is falling. Our tourism revenue is shrinking."

She looked directly at Scorpio. "And your solution is to increase spending?"

No one answered immediately. Pisces sighed, "There is a much simpler solution."

She tapped the financial report lying before her, "Instead of running up the debt, we should reduce expenses."

Capricorn frowned, "You mean operational costs?"

"I mean costs of idol services."

Several heads lifted. Pisces remained completely composed, "Our performers receive so much financial services from the council: housing assistance, wardrobe budgets, travel reimbursement, training stipends, rebates for marriage and childcare."

She shrugged elegantly, "If the city is struggling, everyone should share the burden. Not just us."

Cancer's expression hardened, "You want them to take a cut on pay and benefits?"

Pisces met his gaze without hesitation, "If they truly care about Sweetdance City, they should be more than willing to make reasonable sacrifices."

The chamber remained tense. Now that she has the attention of the room, Pisces calmly folded her hands atop the table as though she had not just challenged nearly everyone present. Once the initial murmurs subsided, she continued, "I believe some of you are misunderstanding me."

Her tone remained composed, "I'm not suggesting we abandon our idols. I'm suggesting we take a careful look at where we're spending our money and redistribute those funds to the areas where they're actually needed, instead of making our idols… comfortable."

The emphasis on the final word immediately drew several irritated looks. Sagittarius leaned forward, "It sounds to me like you simply want a larger budget for your side of the equation."

Pisces shrugged elegantly as a faint smile crossed her lips, "I didn't say that. But if my department happens to receive additional funding after such a review, that would technically be your idea, not mine."

Sagittarius's jaw tightened as he slapped his palm against the table, "This is ridiculous! If anyone's department deserves budget cuts, it's yours!"

Pisces' pleasant smile disappeared. The temperature in the room seemed to drop. Her amber eyes narrowed, "How dare you. My department ensures our idols remain healthy."

She counted deliberately on her fingers. "We oversee recyling programs and sanitations. Environmental preservation. The forests surrounding the city. The rivers supplying our water. The air our citizens breathe."

She fixed Sagittarius with a cold stare. "My responsibilities extend beyond idols. They protect the entire planet."

She then pointed across the table. "Your department, on the other hand, brings unhealthy snacks into the city. Encourages energy drinks. And still has yet to explain to me why our idols apparently require video games."

Several council members quietly looked away. Pisces continued relentlessly. "While I am trying to preserve a healthy society, your department actively promotes habits that undermine it."

Sagittarius shot to his feet. "My department promotes recreation! It promotes creativity! It keeps morale high! And must I remind you that they need it now more than ever!"

Pisces folded her arms. "It promotes sugar. It promotes caffeine. It promotes sedentary lifestyles."

Gemini finally stood, her normally warm voice had become firm, "Pisces. That's enough."

Pisces slowly turned toward her, as if she had personally offended her, "Enough?"

Gemini nodded, "You're attacking fellow council members instead of discussing solutions."

Pisces' expression hardened. "Know your boundaries, Gemini. You are hardly in a position to lecture anyone."

Her gaze shifted briefly toward Scorpio before returning to Gemini, "Everyone knows your department has enjoyed generous funding for years. Being married to Scorpio certainly hasn't hurt."

Gemini's golden eyes widened, "what are you are implying?"

"I'm stating what everyone quietly thinks," Pisces said as her gaze swept across the room. "You manipulate the budget. You protect your department. And somehow your requests always seem to receive approval."

She smiled thinly, "Quite the coincidence."

Several council members visibly shifted uncomfortably, The accusation struck far beyond simple budget discussions. It questioned Scorpio's integrity, and most importantly, his ability to lead.

Before Gemini could answer— BANG!

Scorpio's fist crashed onto the oak table with enough force to make several glasses rattle. The chamber instantly fell silent. Even Pisces stopped speaking.

Scorpio slowly stood. His usually calm expression had vanished. In its place stood the man entrusted with governing Sweetdance City. His voice echoed through the chamber, "Silence!"

No one dared move. Scorpio's gaze swept across every council member before resting briefly on Pisces, "We are all Council members. And we all swore the same oath."

His eyes shifted toward Gemini, "To serve this city."

Then back to Pisces, "Not ourselves."

He clasped his hands behind his back and glanced only briefly toward his wife, "Our personal relationships remain outside these doors. I will not permit accusations of favoritism. I will not permit attacks upon one another's integrity. And I will not permit this Council to descend into political squabbling while our city struggles."

The room remained perfectly still. Scorpio looked at each council member in turn, "If anyone here believes I have approved a budget because of my marriage, then bring evidence. If anyone believes a department is receiving unnecessary funding present the financial analysis."

He looked directly at Pisces, "But we will debate facts, not insinuations."

Another heavy silence followed. Finally, Scorpio took a slow breath, "We are here because Sweetdance City is facing one of the greatest crises in its history. If we spend our time fighting one another, then there won't be a city left to argue over in the end."

No one responded. For the first time since the meeting began, every council member looked less like politicians defending their departments, and more like colleagues who had forgotten they were supposed to be solving the same problem.

Scorpio slowly lowered himself back into his chair. The anger that had erupted only moments before had vanished, replaced by the familiar calm that had made him the Council's leader for so many years. He folded his hands together on the table.

"I owe all of you an apology. My outburst was unbecoming of the office I hold."

No one spoke while Scorpio continued, "This meeting is adjourned. We will reconvene next week."

His eyes swept across the chamber, "Between now and then, I want every one of you to think. Look at your departments, talk to your staff, listen to our citizens."

A few council members raised their eyebrows.

"I don't care how insignificant an idea may seem. If inspiration strikes while you're sitting in a tavern, and you write your solution on the back of a cocktail napkin during a night of drinking, bring the napkin. At this point, I refuse to dismiss any possibility without hearing it."

He looked around the circular table, "We do not need to argue. We are all standing on the same side. We all want the same thing. The prosperity of Sweetdance City."

He paused before adding quietly, "Once we've guided our city through this crisis, we can revisit our differences under more appropriate circumstances."

The chamber fell silent once more. Then, one by one, the council members rose from their seats. Capricorn gathered his financial reports. Sagittarius tucked his presentation beneath his arm with an irritated sigh. Pisces silently collected her documents without another word. Aquarius quietly wished everyone a pleasant afternoon.

The great chamber slowly emptied as each member returned to their respective offices. Soon, only two people remained. Scorpio, Gemini, and the silence between them.

Gemini lingered beside her chair. She looked toward her husband. He hadn't moved. His elbows rested upon the table, his hands folded before him, his eyes fixed on nothing in particular.

For a moment, she almost walked back. She knew that look. It was the look Robert wore whenever the weight of the city became almost too much for one person to carry. Normally, she would have crossed the room without hesitation. She would have placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. Perhaps teased him until he smiled, or simply sat beside him in silence.

But today, Pisces' accusation still echoed in her mind.

"You're just taking advantage of the fact that Scorpio is your husband…"

Gemini closed her eyes briefly. She hated that those words had affected her. Yet they had. If she remained now, if anyone saw her showing affection while wearing the council uniforms, it would only give more fuel to rumors that should never have existed.

Slowly, she lowered her gaze, "I'm heading back to my office," she said softly.

Scorpio didn't look up immediately. Instead, after a brief pause, he gave a small nod, "I'll see you at home."

Those simple words carried a different meaning now. Not Councilwoman Gemini. Not Chairman Scorpio. Just, husband and wife.

Gemini offered him a gentle smile that he never saw. Then she quietly turned and walked toward the great doors. They closed behind her with a deep, echoing thud. For the first time that afternoon, Robert Highland sat completely alone.

Not as a husband.

Not as a father.

Not even as Robert.

But as Scorpio.

The man responsible for carrying the hopes of an entire city whose future had never seemed more uncertain.

Several minutes passed before Robert finally pushed his chair back from the Council table. The chamber had long since fallen silent. The reports remained scattered across the polished oak surface, each one another reminder of the city's decline.

With a weary sigh, he gathered them into his briefcase. The hallway outside was empty. His footsteps echoed against the marble floors as he returned to the office that had belonged to generations of Scorpios before him.

He quietly closed the door behind him, shutting out the noise of the Council chambers. His office welcomed him with a familiar stillness, unchanged despite the turmoil outside its walls. Shelves lined with decades of records stood like silent witnesses to the city's history. A detailed map of Sweetdance City hung proudly behind his desk, surrounded by plaques and awards presented by foreign governments in recognition of the city's contributions to peace and culture. Nearby, carefully preserved letters from grateful idols filled a display case. And resting on the corner of his desk were three framed photographs—the only decorations that truly mattered to him.

Robert slowly lowered himself into his chair, the leather creaking softly beneath his weight. He leaned back and closed his eyes, allowing himself a rare moment of silence. The burdens of leadership seemed to press against his shoulders with a weight they had never carried before. Every difficult decision, every accusation, every empty seat in Dance Square lingered in his mind.

After a long, steady breath, his eyes opened and settled on the first photograph. His father, the previous Scorpio.

Even captured in a simple photograph, the older man's stern expression carried an undeniable authority. Robert could almost hear the echo of those old Council meetings. Whenever his father entered the chamber, conversations stopped instantly. Council members sat straighter in their chairs, careful not to interrupt. No one questioned his decisions. No one dared challenge his judgment. When Scorpio spoke, the Council listened. When he gave an order, it was carried out without hesitation.

Robert remembered sitting quietly in the back of those meetings as a young assistant, watching seasoned council members stiffen beneath his father's gaze. It had fascinated him how one man could command an entire room without ever needing to raise his voice. His father ruled through certainty. Through unwavering confidence. And when the situation demanded it… through fear.

His gaze drifted to the second photograph, Rose. She was smiling exactly as she had the day he first met her all those years ago. Her brilliant yellow eyes, so unusual among idols, had captivated him the moment he saw her as a teenager. He remembered spending days rehearsing what he wanted to say before finally gathering the courage to hand her a confession letter with trembling hands. To his astonishment, she had accepted it with a smile that immediately chased away every fear in his heart. Even now, decades later, that memory remained one of the happiest moments of his life.

The final photograph rested beside hers, Roberta. She couldn't have been more than six or seven years old. One of her front teeth was missing, yet she stood proudly on a tiny practice stage, gripping her very first microphone with both hands as though she were already addressing a sold-out audience. Robert couldn't help smiling at the memory. She had insisted on practicing introductions for hours, determined to become an idol just like her mother.

The smile lingered for only a moment before quietly fading. He wasn't his father. He never had been.

Where the previous Scorpio commanded obedience, Robert sought understanding. He believed leadership began by listening before speaking. He encouraged debate instead of silencing disagreement. He wanted every member of the Council to feel respected—not intimidated. He wanted them to speak honestly, challenge ideas, and work together as equals united by a common purpose. It was a philosophy he still believed in.

Yet after today's meeting, he couldn't help wondering if that very philosophy had become his greatest weakness. His fellow council members had openly questioned his authority. Pisces had accused him of favoritism in front of everyone. The respect he tried so hard to cultivate had begun to erode into familiarity, and familiarity had given some of them the courage to challenge not just his decisions, but his integrity.

Robert lowered his eyes to the photographs once more. His father had ruled through fear. He had chosen to rule through trust.

For the first time since inheriting the title of Scorpio, Robert found himself wondering whether he had chosen the harder path… or simply the wrong one.

Robert rested his elbows on the desk. Perhaps he was a phony. Perhaps everyone knew. They knew he hadn't originally been destined to become Scorpio. That honor had once belonged to someone else.

Julian or Katrina.

Both possessed gifts Robert himself had always admired. But when fate changed that future, the mantle fell to him instead. Some days, he still wondered whether it truly belonged on his shoulders.

His gaze returned to the photograph of his father. Quietly, almost like a prayer, he whispered, "…What would you have done?"

Silence answered him. Robert lowered his gaze, waiting as though the photograph itself might offer some wisdom. The office remained still, the only sound the faint ticking of the clock mounted above the bookshelf.

Then his cellphone vibrated across the desk. The sudden buzz pulled him from his thoughts. He blinked and reached for the phone. The screen illuminated with the caller identification: Julian Artisan.

Robert couldn't help but frown. The timing was almost suspiciously perfect. It was as if Julian had somehow sensed that Robert was sitting alone, questioning every decision he had made that afternoon. It reminded him of their younger days, when Julian always seemed to appear at exactly the right—or the worst possible—moment with one of his infuriatingly accurate observations.

A reluctant sigh came out of Robert's mouth as one memory surfaced; his wedding day. The ceremony had barely ended when Julian had wandered over, wearing that unmistakable mischievous grin that usually meant trouble.

"Congratulations," Julian had said cheerfully. "You do realize the Council is going to eat you alive for marrying Gemini's daughter, don't you?"

Robert had rolled his eyes, convinced his friend was simply trying to spoil the moment, "Can you go one day without teasing me?"

Julian had laughed, "I'm serious. You're marrying into one of the Council's founding family. One day, someone is going to accuse you of favoritism. Doesn't matter whether it's true or not."

At the time, Robert had dismissed it as another one of Julian's outrageous predictions. He had been too happy, too focused on Rose, to believe anyone would question a marriage built on genuine love.

Yet today… Pisces had done exactly that, "You're just taking advantage of the fact that Scorpio is your husband…" The accusation echoed through Robert's mind with uncomfortable clarity.

He looked down at Julian's name glowing on the screen and sighed again. Sometimes Julian's jokes had an unfortunate habit of becoming reality.

Robert answered the call and lifted the phone to his ear, "Hello, Julian. It's been too long."

Julian's familiar voice answered immediately, "Hello, Robert. How are Rose and Roberta?"

"They're both doing well," Robert leaned back in his chair."But I assume you didn't call simply to discuss my family."

A quiet chuckle came through the speaker, "You know me too well."

A keyboard clicked softly in the background. "I've been reviewing Sweetdance City's numbers. They don't look good."

Robert frowned even more. "No. They don't."

Julian continued to speak cheerfully as if they were best friends, "So I thought I'd check on an old friend."

Robert's expression hardened, "Julian, you've been accessing our servers? We had a contract. You are not authorized to access Council systems without permission."

Julian sounded completely unconcerned, "Ordinarily, you'd be right."

Robert narrowed his eyes, "Ordinarily?"

"Our agreement became void."

Robert straightened in his chair, "…Explain."

Julian's voice remained calm, "Trevor violated the contract first. The moment he did that, our agreement ceased to exist."

Robert frowned, "What are you talking about?"

A few keyboard clicks echoed over the call, "Oh, come now. I know Trevor used my operating system offline."

Robert's eyes widened slightly. "…And how exactly would you know that?"

Julian answered matter-of-factly, "Brandon told me. He suddenly became very talkative after I presented him with a little arrangement he couldn't refuse. In case you're curious, he's doing quite well all things considered."

Robert leaned forward. His grip tightened around the phone. For the first time that afternoon, his attention had shifted away from collapsing ticket sales. Because if Brandon had been talking to Julian, here was no telling how much Julian now knew. And that terrified him.

Robert's grip tightened around the phone. "What do you want, Julian?"

Julian, however, sounded as cheerful as ever, "I have a solution to your problem."

Robert's nerves eased. He leaned back in his chair, "…I'm listening."

He wasn't fully convinced, but Julian had surprised him before. Several times in fact. It comes with the territory of Savants after all.

"I've been working on a new project," Julian said. Keyboard keys clicked in the background as he continued, "It was inspired by Conrad's final performance."

Robert frowned again, "Go on."

"You remember how everyone watched Conrad and Ryu duel on stage?"

"Of course," said Robert. "It was a magnificent performance, though the way it ended was less than elegant."

"They weren't just dancing. They were telling a story. They were competing." Julian's excitement was obvious now, "So I started thinking, what if idols competed that way?Without actually putting themselves in danger of course."

Robert blinked, "I'm afraid you've lost me."

Julian laughed, "Instead of sword fights, they fight in digital combat. A perfect harmony between music and video games."

Robert stared blankly at the phone. "…What?"

Julian grinned, "Gamer Idols."

Robert rubbed his forehead, "Julian… What are you talking about?"

"It's a different world now, Robert." Julian's voice remained enthusiastic. "Video games aren't some niche hobby anymore. They're everywhere. We already have esports. We already have millions of people watching competitive gaming. But nobody has truly combined that audience with live idol performances."

He continued before Robert could interrupt, "Imagine this; Two idols. They perform in new and exciting ways. They interact with the audience. And instead of finishing with a dance battle, they settle the finale through a competitive video game. The gameplay appears on enormous screens. The music reacts dynamically to the drama. The audience cheers every victory."

Robert remained unconvinced, "I don't know… It sounds…new and risky."

Julian laughed, "Of course it does. So did online concerts once. So did holograms. So did livestreaming. Every successful idea sounded ridiculous before somebody tried it."

Robert couldn't argue with that.

Julian continued, "Besides… You don't have to take my word for it. Why don't you send your lackeys to test it themselves?"

Robert raised an eyebrow, "…My what?"

"You know." Julian sounded amused. "The two who follow your orders without complaint. You're not so different from your father after all."

Julian pretended to think, "What were their names again…Hanzo and Valefor?"

Robert slowly lowered the phone from his ear for a moment before bringing it back, "…You really did help yourself to our servers."

Julian chuckled, "I never said I didn't."

Robert pinched the bridge of his nose. He knew the man was impossible. And even though it has been two decades since they have worked together, nothing has changed.

He remained silent for several seconds, weighing the idea. If nothing else, Hanzo and Valefor were experienced investigators. If Julian's proposal was nonsense, they would know quickly.

If there was genuine potential, then it could bring a new audience while bringing back those who walked away. The Council desperately needed new ideas, and this was the most ambitious one yet.

Finally, Robert exhaled, "…Fine. I'll send them. But I sincerely hope you know what you're doing."

A broad grin spread across Julian's face, even though Robert couldn't see it, "Trust me."

There was the same mischievous confidence which always makes Robert nervous. That confidence that usually meant one of two things. Julian had either discovered something extraordinary, or Robert was about to regret answering his phone.

The call ended. Robert looked down at the silent screen before slowly setting the phone on his desk.

"Gamer Idols…" he muttered to himself. He couldn't decide whether the idea was brilliant, or completely insane.

Then again, he had said exactly the same thing the first time Julian proposed an operating system that would connect every performer in the city. Unhackable, and could run on computers twenty years old that would outperform newer hardware.

Robert looked toward the city skyline outside his office window. For the first time since the meeting had begun, there was, at the very least a new idea worth investigating.