The shooting star slamd into the ground right in front of them.
Stone cracked outward in a shallow ring as heat washed over Adam and Vanessa. Flas surged, then receded, drawn inward as if swallowed by the figure at the center.
When the fire cleared, an old man stood there.
He wore the sa uniform as the Mission Hall’s acolytes and managers, but elevated. The cut was sharper, the fabric heavier, and the linings were a deep royal purple, not gold like Vanessa’s, nor silver like the regular acolytes.
A rank above.
No, far above.
Adam’s attention locked instantly.
It wasn’t the man’s age. Nor the way he stood, relaxed yet absolute. It was the aura.
Pressure rolled off him in quiet waves, so dense Adam felt like he could be snuffed out with a single thought.
He’s strong.
This ti, the thought wasn’t exaggeration or instinctual caution. It was a fact. Compared to everyone Adam had internally acknowledged as "strong" so far, this man stood in a completely different realm.
Then sothing else stirred.
That feeling.
The sa faint paranoia that had driven him into that wild goose chase with Abigail and the acolytes, back when he’d felt sothing amiss where there were none.
Adam’s brow tightened.
It’s that sa feeling...but it’s stronger.
And then it clicked.
That’s why.
Vanessa stepped forward, posture straightening as if pulled by invisible strings.
"Greetings, Commander," she said.
Adam’s gaze snapped back to the man.
Commander?
The old man glanced at Adam briefly, just once, before turning his attention back to Vanessa.
"I want a full report," he said calmly. "On what happened here."
His eyes lifted, sweeping over the now-cleared sky.
"And how you were able to deactivate your barrier."
The last words landed heavier than the rest.
Adam and Vanessa both stiffened.
Our barrier?
The thought echoed in both their minds at the sa ti.
Adam’s eyes narrowed slightly.
We weren’t the only ones affected.
****
Adam found himself in yet another eting.
How do I even get myself into these things?
The thought was pure sarcasm. Of course he knew the answer. etings were where information flowed. If he wanted to understand the larger picture, avoiding them would be stupid. And besides, being invited at all said enough.
Just being in one was proof of power.
While the high-ranking acolytes and the manager organized docunts and projections, Adam sat across the table from the commander.
Just the two of them.
Silence stretched.
The pressure was subtle but present, like the room itself was paying attention. Adam didn’t fidget. He didn’t look away.
Then the commander spoke.
"I thought you would have two heads."
Adam blinked, genuinely caught off guard.
"You know ?" he asked.
The commander’s expression didn’t change. "Of course I know you. I was the one who issued your rewards."
Adam stiffened slightly.
"You’re operating in a region I control," the commander continued. "It only makes sense."
Adam had no reply.
For the first ti in a while, words didn’t co easily.
The commander didn’t elaborate, and the silence returned. Adam considered speaking, he briefly entertained the thought of asking whether his rewards might be increased in the future.
Yeah... no. That’s pushing it.
He stayed quiet.
Monts later, footsteps approached. The manager and the high-ranking acolytes entered, taking their seats with practiced efficiency.
Vanessa inclined her head toward the commander. "Sorry we took our ti."
The commander waved a hand dismissively.
"Thank you," Vanessa said, then straightened as the room settled.
She activated the display and began.
"Here is the full report."
****
The eting began without issue.
Vanessa delivered her report in a clear, thodical tone, laying out everything that had happened so far, step by step, without embellishnt. She spoke of how the heirs had arrived in the sector under the pretense of searching for a Water Lily, only for that story to unravel. How the truth pointed back to Henry Faraday, and how the entire thing had been a lie crafted to divert attention from his real objective.
She explained how he had mutated the Sirens’ Swamp, how he had erected a barrier around the sector, several rifts, and the swamp itself, and how he had died in the process.
Vanessa didn’t shy away from the implications.
She detailed how disastrous the situation would have been if they hadn’t discovered and destroyed the generator powering the barrier and fueling the expanding mutated rift. How doing so had triggered a tide. And how, against expectation, they had survived it.
The commander listened in silence.
His expression never changed.
Yet Adam noticed sothing.
Every ti his na ca up, every ti the report circled back to the decisive monts, the commander’s gaze shifted to him. Brief and asuring. As if confirming sothing he’d already suspected.
Vanessa finished at last.
"So that is the situation, Commander."
The commander finally looked away from Adam and turned his attention fully to her.
"It seems," he said evenly, "that this is not isolated."
The room stilled.
"This is what is happening in the other sectors as well."
Vanessa leaned forward slightly, eyes sharp. The high-ranking acolytes followed suit, expressions tightening.
Adam remained quiet, but his focus sharpened.
Let’s hear what’s been happening since.
****
The commander could see it on their faces. Anticipation. Tension. That restless edge of people who had been cut off from the world and were finally about to hear what lay beyond the walls.
They’re dying to know.
He considered it briefly.
They’ll find out eventually anyway.
There was no harm in telling them a little earlier.
The commander straightened.
"On the twentieth day of the sixth month," he said evenly, "of the year five hundred and nineteen of the Martial Era..."
The room stilled.
"...one hundred sectors in the low regions of the Outer Zone were trapped within impenetrable barriers."
Silence crashed down like a physical weight.
No one spoke. No one breathed too loudly. Even the hum of the equipnt felt distant.
The commander continued.
"And up to now," he said, tone unchanged, "only Sector 418 has successfully deactivated its barrier."
His gaze swept the room.
"That leaves ninety-nine sectors still trapped...."
A chill crept up Adam’s spine.
"...In whatever nightmare the Faradays concocted."
Adam’s thoughts snapped inward, sharp and sudden.
One hundred sectors...
His mind raced, as a sector surfaced unbidden.
His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.
Could it be?
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