Apocalypse: becoming the hidden Ruler[English]

Starveil continued, her tone even. “If they used the Blood-Burning Needle, it means the Saints have no intention of letting him go. So far, only two people targeted by the Saints have ever escaped. Axel is one of them. Should we use him as bait… and try to capture a Saint alive?”

Silence stretched.

Then Aurelion shook his head. “They’re more cautious than we estimated. And far more cunning. They won’t fall for such an obvious trap.”

Starveil lowered her head slightly, her expression unreadable. “Still, their operation this time was careless. The Saints will now be exposed to official scrutiny.”

Aurelion rose to his feet. In the darkness before him, Axel’s name appeared like a burning sigil.

“This action wasn’t part of their organization’s broader plan,” he said. “A single Saint acted out of impatience to seize Axel and disrupted everything. Next time, they’ll be far more careful.”

Starveil sighed softly. “A shame. We gained no usable intelligence. Otherwise, we might have captured one alive.”

Sensing her disappointment, Aurelion spoke again:

“Is it absolutely necessary to capture one?”

“Yes. Absolutely necessary.” Starveil’s voice hardened. “I underestimated Liorael. He doesn’t fully trust me. The formula is incomplete. I need a Saint’s body.”

“If we don’t use Axel as bait,” she added quietly, “then he cannot remain in the Whisper Syndicate. Otherwise, he could be taken at any moment.”

They spoke at length after that, their words echoing through the void.

At last, Aurelion said, “Then you must inform him of this decision.”

Starveil nodded. “I will.”

She rose, bowed slightly, and prepared to leave.

But just before stepping away, hesitation flickered across her face.

“Is there something else?” Aurelion asked.

Clarissa hesitated, then nodded. “He seemed to recognize me.”

Aurelion frowned faintly. “What do you mean?”

“The instant he saw me, he called out Clarissa. And there was wariness in his eyes—brief, but unmistakable.”

Aurelion fell silent for a moment before shaking his head. “That’s impossible. He doesn’t know the identities of anyone present there… except the Thronebearer.”

After a long pause, she bowed slightly.

“I’ll take my leave.”

“Go,” Aurelion said. “I’ll find a way to capture a Saint alive.”

“Do it quickly,” she replied. “Otherwise, the General will depart.”

“Mm.”

Silence returned.

Aurelion sat alone upon the throne, unmoving, like a carved statue swallowed by shadow.

After a long while, he lifted his hand and gently wiped away one of the empty chairs beneath him. Then, with slow, deliberate strokes, he inscribed a name in the corresponding position on the table:

The Farmer.

.......

Ebonveil.

After listening to Vince and Rosaline’s report, Xander fell into a long silence.

“…You don’t know that woman’s identity?”

“Yes,” Vince replied.

“Could she have been connected to Valerie?” Xander pressed. “Another spy from the Stormhold Imperium?”

Vince shook his head. “If that were the case, Valerie wouldn’t have needed to drag her into the dream. She could’ve killed us directly in the real world. That woman was the strongest peak-Level Five Awakened I’ve ever seen. If it weren’t for Mr. Charles…”

His voice trailed off. The room fell silent again.

Xander rubbed his brow heavily. “Understood. I regret Charles’s sacrifice.”

“I will report everything to the General as-is. Until then, none of this is to be disclosed. This may be classified.”

Rosaline looked up sharply. “Why?”

Xander’s gaze hardened.

“An individual capable of freely switching between infected and human forms will cause absolute chaos if this gets out. If the Holy Light Organization fans the flames, it could ignite a new wave of unrest.”

“Our stance toward the infected has always been firm—swift elimination, no exceptions. If the families of the infected learn that such individuals exist, they will begin to challenge that policy. These are not trivial consequences.”

“We are already facing the threat of a large-scale mutated-beast outbreak. Humanity cannot afford internal division right now.”

Rosaline slammed her hands on the table. “Then we’re supposed to just pretend this never happened?! That woman—no, infected like her—are far more dangerous than normal infected! They should be wiped out immediately!”

“Shouldn’t the military launch a full investigation and purge?!”

Xander struck the table in return. “Rosaline, watch your tone! An investigation will happen—but it doesn’t need to become a public spectacle. Vince, control your people.”

Vince was about to speak when Rosaline suddenly lowered her voice.

“Mr. Charles didn’t die for nothing. If this investigation uncovers something major, the credit should belong to him.”

Xander’s expression softened slightly. “Of course. But secrecy is still required. Now—how are Axel and the others?”

At Axel’s name, Rosaline’s anger flared again. She turned her head and said nothing.

Xander frowned faintly. “What kind of attitude is that…?”

Vince answered calmly, “Axel and Millers are being treated in Everton. We’ll follow the organization’s arrangements. We won’t cause any problems.”

Xander sank back into his seat and waved them off. “Alright. You may go.”

Just before they reached the door, he spoke again in a low voice:

“My condolences.”

“Rosaline.”

In the hotel corridor, Vince followed her to the fire escape. The air there was thick with the faint stench of smoke and damp mildew.

Rosaline pulled out a cigarette, trying to light it. Her hand trembled so badly that the flame sputtered out again and again.

Vince took the lighter from her and lit the cigarette himself.

In the dim red glow, the smell of smoke spread. Outside, the pressure in Ebonveil was low after the rain, making every breath feel heavy.

“Are you still blaming Axel…?” Vince asked quietly. “He probably doesn’t even know what’s going on. He’s badly injured right now.”

Rosaline suddenly turned on him. Her eyes were bloodshot, her nose trembling. She snapped, voice shaking with emotion:

“He might not know—but don’t you think he’s hiding a lot of shit from us? And we’ve never forced him, have we? After everything we’ve been through, what secrets could he possibly still be keeping from us?!”

Vince was momentarily at a loss for words. Before he could respond, Rosaline continued without giving him space to breathe.

“I don’t give a damn what he’s hiding anymore. This time, he has to tell me everything!”

“Rosaline… are you trying to force him?”

She let out a bitter laugh and turned to face him. “Force him? You, Vince, are so damn soft—you’d die for that kid without blinking. I won’t!”

“Whatever trouble he’s in, just say it out loud. We’ll figure it out together. That’s what a team is supposed to do!”

“Sure, maybe he didn’t trust us at first—that’s normal. But you treat him like family. I do too. You’re willing to put your life on the line for him. I was too.”

“But I refuse to die like a fool, kept in the dark until the very end!” Her voice grew hoarse. “What does he think we are to him?!”

Her body trembled as the words spilled out. The restraint she’d held for so long finally shattered, and Vince saw tears streak down her face.

“Do you really want to force him to talk?” he asked quietly.

“I don’t,” she said through clenched teeth. “If he’s willing to talk, then I, Rosaline, will do anything to help him. Anything.”

“But if he won’t… then let him go wherever he wants.”

“Rosaline—!”

Vince hadn’t expected words so cruel to come from her. But she was already running down the corridor, her soft, broken sobs echoing behind her.

Vince stood there in the dim hallway. He reached for a cigarette out of habit—then realized his pockets were empty.

In the silence, footsteps approached.

Dale, numb and exhausted, pushed the door open and walked in from the darkness outside.

Dale gave a slight nod. He pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, lit one for Vince, then lit one for himself.

“Mr. Vince… I’m sorry,” he said quietly, exhaustion weighing down every syllable.

“Mr. Dale…” Vince looked at him in surprise—but Dale suddenly knelt down.