Ryker Fate entered with a group of military officers, his uniform pristine and decorated with comndations that spoke to successful service. Dark hair, sharp features, and the sa distinctive brown eyes that marked him as family—Arthur's paternal cousin.
Son of Uncle Richard. The man who had kicked Arthur and Charlotte out of their inherited ho, condemning them to holessness, while Ryker lived in comfort.
Arthur's hands clenched into fists as mories flooded back—childhood gatherings where Ryker had bullied him rcilessly, pushing him down, stealing his things, mocking him for being "weak" even before their parents died. After the holessness, Ryker had occasionally encountered them on the streets and made a point of laughing, of making sure Arthur knew how far he'd fallen.
And now Ryker was here, part of the military establishnt, having risen through nepotistic connections while Arthur had suffered.
He doesn't even know I'm here, Arthur thought with dark satisfaction. Probably thinks I'm dead from the MOAB strike.
Charlotte, standing beside Arthur in their concealed position, sensed his tension. Her hand found his arm, squeezing gently—a reminder that she was here, that he wasn't alone in this.
Arthur took a controlled breath, forcing his rage back into cold calculation.
More officials continued filing in. Director Hawthorne from the facility where Arthur had been held appeared, his bureaucratic deanour unchanged. Military commanders Arthur vaguely recognised. Intelligence officers who'd overseen his surveillance. Handlers who'd managed his "assignnts."
All of them. Every single person who'd participated in or enabled the exploitation of Charlotte's illness.
Nearly two hundred people packed into the bunker now, their conversations creating a low buzz of anticipation and confusion. They didn't know why they'd been summoned, only that presidential authority had demanded their imdiate presence.
The summoned President stood at the front of the chamber, waiting patiently as the last stragglers entered. His expression carried perfect mimicry of grave concern and authoritative determination.
Finally, when everyone had assembled and the bunker's massive doors sealed shut with finality, the President raised his hand for silence.
The chamber quieted imdiately, hundreds of eyes focusing on their leader.
"Thank you all for coming on such short notice," the President began, his voice carrying across the space with authority. "I know many of you left critical positions to be here. I know the demon invasions continue unabated. But what we discuss today takes precedence over everything else."
He paused for dramatic effect. "As many of you know, we've been dealing with a significant threat to national security—a player known as Arthur Fate, designation Fateless, who has been classified as Arica's most dangerous terrorist."
Murmurs rippled through the crowd. Several awakeners shifted uncomfortably, hands moving instinctively toward weapons.
"Recent intelligence suggests he survived our attempt to eliminate him," the President continued. "Moreover, his power has grown exponentially. He's ford international alliances, built an organisation, and demonstrated capabilities that exceed our initial assessnts."
Jas spoke up from his position near the front. "Mr. President, if Fateless is the threat you're suggesting, why gather everyone here? Wouldn't dispersed operations be more sound?"
The President smiled—and for just a mont, sothing wrong flickered in his expression. Sothing that made Jas's instincts scream danger despite not understanding why.
"Because," the President said quietly, "Fateless requested your presence. All of you. Specifically."
The chamber erupted into confused shouts and questions.
"What?!"
"Requested? You're saying you've been in contact with—"
"This is a trap! We need to evacuate imdiately!"
But the bunker doors remained sealed, their chanisms locked by the President's override codes.
And in his concealed corner, Arthur Fate allowed his spatial manipulation to drop, revealing himself and Charlotte to the assembled crowd.
The chamber fell absolutely silent as two hundred awakeners and officials stared in shock at the person who should have been dead, the terrorist they'd gathered to discuss, standing calmly among them with a staff-wielding girl at his side.
Arthur's expression carried cold satisfaction as he t their terrified gazes.
"Thank you all for coming. We have so much to discuss together," he said quietly, his voice sohow carrying across the entire space.
The chamber exploded into chaos.
Jas reacted first, his S-Rank combat instincts overriding shock. Blue flas erupted around his hands instantaneously, casting flickering shadows across his face as his body dropped into a battle stance. His eyes, wide with disbelief, locked onto Arthur with the focused intensity of a predator recognising a threat.
"I knew it...The MOAB strike...I should've trusted my guts."
His flas intensified, crackling with power. "How are you here? How are you even alive?"
The other S-Rank awakeners scattered throughout the chamber responded with similar explosive readiness. Lightning crackled around one woman's body, her A-Rank Lightning talent activating reflexively. An earth manipulator stomped his foot, stone armour materialising across his body with grinding sounds. A wind specialist's hair whipped wildly as gales began swirling around her defensive position.
Every high-tier awakener in the bunker activated their talents simultaneously, the combined magical pressure creating a suffocating atmosphere that made weaker officials stumble backwards.
But beneath their combat readiness, Arthur could see the fear. The absolute terror in their eyes as they realised they'd been gathered like livestock for slaughter.
"He's here to kill us," one A-Class awakener whispered, his voice carrying in the sudden tense silence. "We're all going to die."
Ryker Fate's reaction was different from the others. His face cycled through shock, recognition, and then imdiate, visceral hatred that twisted his features into sothing ugly.
"You," Ryker spat, his voice dripping with venom as his hand moved to the military-issue blade at his hip. "You're supposed to be dead. The street rat who got above his station. The weakling who needed his sister as a crutch."
His knuckles went white around his weapon's grip, teeth grinding audibly as rage overca tactical thinking. "Here you are, still causing trouble for your betters. My father was right, you are nothing but an eyesore."
Ryker Fate then turned towards everyone present. "There are nearly two hundred of us! There is only one of him! Let's kill him!"
"YEAH! That's right! He doesn't even have his summons with him, we could kill him before that happens!"
Other awakeners started to have hope, but before it cented itself, Arthur broke it.
"Who said i'm alone?!"
Before they knew it, darkness started forming around them.
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