Sheath slowly opened his eyes. His body still ached from the battle with Ashen, but the tension in the air was more suffocating than the pain. He sat up, his voice raspy as he looked at his friends and asked, "G-Guys… why do you want to change the plan?"
Lira turned toward him, surprise flickering in her eyes. "Uh… you're finally awake."
Isame, who was pacing nearby, turned sharply and blurted, "You mean to say… you still want to go through with that plan? Did no one tell you the whole damn world is attacking us now?"
Sheath's expression darkened with confusion. "What… what do you mean? The world is attacking us?"
Kale crossed his arms and said grimly, "The united forces — every major country — they've formed a global army. They're marching toward Rimore with one goal: to kill Armin… and anyone who stands with him. That includes us."
Sheath blinked, trying to process it all. "Then… wouldn't that be the perfect time to strike? If Armin's distracted… we can still execute the plan, right?"
Rein looked away, silent for a moment, before muttering, "It's because of you."
Sheath stiffened. "Huh? What does that mean? What did I do?"
"You awakened," Rein said, facing him now. "You showed a power none of us expected. It changed everything."
Sheath clenched his fists. "But that's good, isn't it? I… I can fight. I can help! With my powers, we might actually have a chance to take down Armin—"
"That's exactly the problem," Lira interrupted. "You think awakening solves everything, but it just makes things more complicated. Even if we manage to kill Armin, we're gambling with our lives. Do you think the united army will let us go after we do their dirty work? We're still part of his forces. We're guilty by association."
"I think we should still go through with the plan," Rein said suddenly, surprising everyone.
Isame turned toward him with a raised eyebrow. "Wait, what? You were against it before. You said it was suicide."
"I changed my mind," Rein said simply. "I've been thinking about it, and… I don't know, something tells me this is the only way. Killing him might be our only chance at surviving this war. If we don't do it, someone else will — but maybe not in time. And if he survives this united army attack, we're done for."
Kale stepped forward, a thoughtful frown on his face. "You're forgetting one problem — Maverick. If he catches wind of what we're trying to do, he'll step in. And if he gets involved… we might actually lose."
Lira nodded. "That's a risk we can't ignore. He's unpredictable… and terrifying."
Rein shrugged. "We can plan around Maverick. We've done crazier things before."
Lira shook her head. "You're letting desperation cloud your thinking."
"I'm just trying to survive!" Rein snapped.
The room went quiet.
Then Sheath, barely keeping his voice steady, said, "If… if keeping me safe is the reason you're hesitating… I'll leave."
Everyone looked at him in disbelief.
"I'll go," Sheath continued, standing up slowly despite his soreness. "If I'm the reason this plan is falling apart, then I'll get out of your way. I won't drag you all down."
Kale immediately stepped forward and placed a hand on his shoulder, firm but not aggressive. "No, Sheath. That's not it. You don't get it — Armin wants you. We don't know what he plans to do with you, but we know it's not good. If you walk out there alone, you're walking right into his hands."
"Then why are you all treating me like I'm some fragile thing?" Sheath asked, his voice cracking. "I'm not a weapon to be hidden. I'm not a child to be protected. I'm your friend. Don't you trust me enough to fight alongside you?"
There was a long silence as everyone absorbed his words.
Lira finally spoke, softly. "We do trust you. But trust isn't the problem here, Sheath. You're more than just a fighter to us — you're someone we care about. And because of that… we want to protect you. Even if it means keeping you away from danger."
Sheath looked at her, then at each of them. "And what about you all? If I'm out there fighting and risking everything, then I want all of you by my side. I don't want to be locked away while my friends bleed and die. I won't live with that kind of guilt. If I'm going to die… then let it be fighting beside you."
Kale nodded slowly. "Then maybe… maybe we find a middle ground. We hide you, like we planned. But if things get out of hand… if the world's forces start losing or Armin goes berserk, then we let you step in. We use you as our final weapon, not our first strike."
Lira sighed. "That's still a massive gamble."
Rein smirked faintly. "Isn't everything we do?"
Isame chuckled. "Sounds like us."
Sheath looked around the room at his friends — the only people he could count on in this twisted war. Despite the weight on their shoulders, despite their fear, their pain, and their doubts, they still stood together.
"Then let's make a new plan," Sheath said. "One that gives us a fighting chance — and one that we all believe in."
Everyone nodded, silently agreeing.
Because if they were going to face the wrath of the world, the wrath of Armin, and the chaos of destiny itself… then they'd face it together.
No matter what came next.
Sheath stood at the center of the camp, surrounded by his companions. The map of the capital lay sprawled across the table before them, its markings scribbled with hastily drawn routes and arrows. His golden eyes, still dimmed from recovery, scanned the terrain one more time before he spoke.
"It's better if we focus our efforts on Armin," Sheath said, his tone firm but calm. "Kliner's a threat, yes—but he's not the priority right now. Rein, you'll take a small team and handle him. Your job isn't to defeat him—just distract him, keep him occupied. Once we've finished with Armin, we'll come and help you."
Rein frowned slightly but nodded. "Understood. I'll pick the right people. We'll keep him busy."
Kale leaned over the table, pointing at the central building in the heart of Rimore. "So, what's the plan for Armin? The last idea was to sneak in, right?"
"Yes," Sheath replied. "We stick to that. We'll infiltrate the central building, just as we planned before—but this time, I'll be moving with you. Hidden. He's looking for me, which means he'll be more cautious if he senses I'm nearby. But if I stay concealed among you, he won't expect it."
Lira raised an eyebrow. "You're going to hide among us? That's risky. If he senses your energy—"
"He won't," Sheath interrupted. "My energy is too low right now. And if I suppress it entirely, I'll appear just like anyone else. For once, my exhaustion works in our favor."
Isame crossed his arms. "Still doesn't feel right, hiding you like that."
"I'm not hiding because I'm afraid," Sheath clarified. "I'm hiding so I can get close enough to strike when it matters. The goal is to take him by surprise."
Rein tapped the edge of the map. "So walk us through it again—step by step."
"Alright," Sheath began, his voice steady. "We'll enter the capital under the guise of a routine military drill. Armin has seen these kinds of drills before; he won't think much of it. We'll carry weapons, but not in a way that raises suspicion. We'll act normal—disciplined, coordinated, and harmless."
Kale nodded slowly. "Makes sense. If he thinks it's just another drill, he won't prepare for an ambush."
"Exactly," Sheath said. "Then, once we're inside the central building, we wait for the signal. When he lowers his guard—when he's comfortable—that's when we strike. Quick. Precise. No hesitation."
Lira glanced at Sheath. "And that's when you reveal yourself?"
"Yes," Sheath replied. "I'll stay hidden until the moment we strike. Once he's surrounded and confused, I'll move in. That's our best shot. We need to catch him off-guard—emotionally and tactically."
Rein folded his arms, thinking. "And meanwhile, my team deals with Kliner."
"Distract him," Sheath said. "You don't need to engage him fully. Lead him away from the central building. Keep him occupied. If you see an opportunity to disable him, take it—but don't take unnecessary risks. We need you alive."
Isame looked over at Rein. "You sure you're up for that?"
Rein offered a half-smile. "I'll manage. Kliner's smart, but he's predictable. If we bait him properly, he'll follow."
Kale tapped the side of his head. "What about Maverick? What if he shows up?"
The room went quiet.
"We don't plan for him," Sheath said after a moment. "If Maverick appears, the plan shifts. I'll deal with him. No one else should engage."
Lira frowned. "You barely recovered. How are you going to take on someone like Maverick?"
"I'm not saying I'll win," Sheath admitted. "But I can buy you time. If he shows up, everything else takes second priority. Get out, regroup, and we'll figure out the rest later."
The group exchanged uneasy glances, but no one argued.
"Any questions?" Sheath asked.
Isame raised a hand half-heartedly. "Yeah. What if Armin figures it out too soon? What if he's already suspicious?"
Sheath nodded. "Then we improvise. But right now, this is the best we've got. We won't get another chance like this. The world's armies are already marching toward Rimore. The chaos of that assault will give us our opening. We strike while everyone's distracted."
Lira gave a deep sigh. "I hate how much this makes sense."
Kale smiled faintly. "That's how you know it's our kind of plan."
Rein stepped forward and clapped Sheath on the shoulder. "We'll handle Kliner. You just make sure Armin falls."
"I will," Sheath replied, his voice steely.
The group stood in silence for a moment, the weight of what they were about to do hanging heavily in the air. This wasn't just a battle—it was the turning point. One wrong move, and everything they had fought for would crumble.
But they all knew the stakes.
They all knew what had to be done.
And they were ready.
"Let's go over the team assignments," Lira said, rolling up the map. "If this is happening, we need to be perfect."
As they moved into the final planning phase, there was no more hesitation. No more fear. Just resolve.
Because in the heart of Rimore, amid deception and bloodshed, they would either change the fate of the world—or be swallowed by it.
Armin stood by the tall window of the central command building, gazing over the sprawling capital of Rimore. His hands were clasped behind his back, and his eyes burned with quiet calculation. The air in the room was tense, thick with the weight of impending war.
"They're probably arguing among themselves right now," Armin said, breaking the silence. "Trying to decide whether to carry out their original plan or stab me in the back during the battle against the united army."
Kliner, seated across the room with his legs crossed, glanced up from a set of reports. "Let them argue. We shouldn't waste our time worrying about their loyalty. Right now, the army gathering outside our walls is the real threat. We need to focus on that."
Armin gave a slight nod. "You're right. That's why I'm sending Maverick to scout their movements."
He turned toward Maverick, who had been leaning quietly against the far wall, arms folded. "Maverick, I want you to head to the United Army's camp. It's stationed roughly 50 kilometers from Rimore. Observe everything—troop movements, tactical drills, weapon drops, anything unusual. Stay hidden, stay sharp, and return after three days."
Maverick straightened. "Three days? That's a long time for simple surveillance. Why not just a quick check-in and back?"
Armin stepped away from the window and faced him directly. "Because things can change quickly. New strategies, last-minute reinforcements, unfamiliar weapons. One day's report won't be enough. I want you to see their progression—how they operate over time. There are still four days before the war begins. If you stay for three, we'll have just enough time to adapt our response before it's too late."
Maverick nodded slowly, processing the instruction. "Got it. You want more than just a snapshot—you want the full picture."
"Exactly," Armin said. "If they're planning something unexpected, I want to know before it's too late. If they're bringing in unfamiliar tech, I want to find a counter. We can't afford to go in blind."
Kliner looked up from his documents again. "What if they catch him? If Maverick gets spotted, we lose a valuable piece on the board."
"He won't get caught," Armin replied without hesitation. "He knows how to disappear."
Maverick gave a half-smile. "I've done it before. This won't be any different."
Armin stepped forward and placed a hand on Maverick's shoulder. "Be careful. We're walking into something big. I can feel it."
Maverick gave a short nod. "Understood."
Without another word, he turned and walked out of the central command room. The heavy door closed behind him with a soft thud.
The streets outside bustled with preparations—military units running drills, artillery being positioned, and airships making supply runs across the capital. Maverick passed through them quickly, mounting a sleek black motorbike near the gate. He revved the engine once and sped off, the road to the United Army's camp stretching out before him.
It was a 50-kilometer journey, and the terrain outside the capital was a mixture of open plains and forested paths. The closer he got to the outskirts, the quieter the world became, the distant roar of the capital fading behind him.
Back in the central building, Kliner stood and approached Armin, now once again at the window.
"You really think they'll betray you?" Kliner asked.
Armin didn't look at him. "It's not a matter of if. It's when. But I'm ready."
Kliner gave a dry chuckle. "And here I thought you didn't care about politics."
"This isn't politics," Armin said softly. "It's survival. They're scared. And scared people do foolish things."
He watched the clouds roll slowly across the sky, hiding the sun for a moment.
"But I'm not scared," he whispered. "Let them come."
In the heart of the United Army's fortified camp, rows of soldiers moved in disciplined formations under the rising sun. Massive tents stretched across the open field, buzzing with activity as troops loaded ammunition, inspected gear, and reviewed tactical maps. Generals barked orders, and the thrum of armored vehicles and airships filled the background.
Inside the main command tent, a high-level briefing was in progress. The tent's interior glowed with digital screens displaying satellite feeds, troop deployments, and the countdown to the upcoming war. Several generals and representatives from various nations had gathered to report progress to the world leaders, who were connected via a secure communication line.
One of the senior generals stepped forward, saluting crisply before addressing the world leaders through the large monitor at the head of the room.
"Esteemed leaders," he began, "all current drills are proceeding without issue. Our troops are steadily forming cohesive units, with improved coordination between nations. Morale is high, and every division is moving according to plan. I believe we can confidently say… we are ready for war."
A ripple of nods followed among the leaders visible on the screen. But just as the general was about to continue, an unfamiliar voice pierced the communication line—sharp, confident, and unsettlingly calm.
"But is readiness enough?" the voice said. "Because while you prepare for war… I wonder if you are also ready for genocide."
A chilling silence swept the room. The generals froze, and the leaders on screen looked around in confusion and alarm.
"W-who was that?!" one of the leaders demanded, eyes wide with shock. "Who hacked into this line?"
Suddenly, the central screen flickered and changed. The blurred, distorted figure of a man appeared in the shadows—until the haze cleared to reveal a face recognized and feared across every nation.
Armin.
"The person you're all so desperate to kill," he said with a cold smile, "Armin."
The room fell dead silent. Even the buzzing of electronics seemed to pause in that moment. One of the generals stepped back, hand instinctively resting on his holstered weapon, as if Armin could emerge from the screen itself.
"H-how did you get access to this secure channel?" another leader stammered. "This line is encrypted—impossible to breach!"
"I created the system you're using," Armin replied smoothly. "Do you really think I wouldn't leave myself a door back in?"
The leaders stared at the screen, tension thick in the air.
"What do you want?" a general finally asked, his voice firm but uneasy.
"I want to give you a fair chance," Armin said. "The war won't mean anything if one side isn't truly prepared. You're gathering millions of soldiers, deploying tanks, airships, drones. But none of it will matter if you're not mentally ready for what's coming."
One of the commanders clenched his fists. "You're just trying to intimidate us."
Armin chuckled. "I don't need to intimidate anyone. I'm merely offering clarity. You think you're coming to fight a man. But what's waiting for you is far worse than anything your world has ever faced."
"You're bluffing," another leader said, voice trembling slightly despite his defiance. "You're just one man. We're the world united."
"You're not united," Armin said, leaning in slightly, his voice growing more serious. "You're divided by fear, arrogance, and desperation. You've united out of necessity, not trust. The cracks will show soon."
The screen zoomed in slightly, and his gaze bore into them as if he were physically present.
"And when that happens—when your armies begin to fall, and your people begin to question why they followed you—I want you to remember this conversation. I didn't hack this line to mock you. I came to warn you. Because I'm not your greatest threat."
The leaders exchanged puzzled glances.
"What are you talking about?" one finally asked. "Then what is?"
Armin's smile faded. "You'll see. Soon."
Then, without another word, the screen flickered once again—and Armin was gone. The connection returned to normal, as if nothing had happened.
For a moment, no one spoke.
Finally, the general who had been giving the original report stepped forward again, his face pale.
"...He knows everything," he said quietly. "Our tactics. Our location. Our timeline."
Another general slammed his fist on the table. "This changes nothing. We still have the numbers. We still have the technology."
But doubt had already crept into the room. The soldiers outside continued their drills, unaware of the storm brewing behind the command walls.
Inside, the leaders remained silent, each of them haunted by the same question:
What did Armin mean when he said he wasn't the greatest threat?
And was it already too late to turn back?
In Sheath's camp, the atmosphere was tense as the group gathered to finalize their plan. Sheath stood at the center, his voice calm but firm.
"This is it," he said. "Our plan—fully refined. We'll execute it in three days, on the day the war begins. No more changes. Be ready. If things start falling apart, we escape. That's the fallback."
Rein crossed his arms, doubt creeping into his tone. "You really think Armin will let us escape that easily?"
Kale nodded, his expression thoughtful. "If we time it right, we'll have a window. During the battle, Armin's attention will be elsewhere—focused on the United Army. If there's ever a chance to slip away, it's then."
Lira, seated nearby, looked uneasy. "Still... are we sure we have enough people? Enough strength to even pull this off?"
Sheath turned to her, his golden eyes steady. "We don't need numbers—we need precision, timing, and belief. And Lira, I know what you're capable of. Don't let doubt hold you back."
Her gaze lingered on his for a moment before she gave a small nod. "Alright."
Rein looked around the room, taking in the mix of determination and apprehension. "If this really is our only chance... we can't afford any mistakes."
Sheath stepped forward. "Then we won't make any. Everyone has a role. Rein, you and your team will focus on distracting Kliner. Don't engage unless necessary. Just keep him busy. Meanwhile, the rest of us will act like we're running a drill to avoid suspicion."
Kale added, "Once Armin lowers his guard, thinking it's just another routine exercise—that's when we move. Quick and quiet."
Lira looked around at the others, then back to Sheath. "And what about you?"
"I'll be hidden among the group," Sheath replied. "If Armin sees me, he'll know something's wrong. I can't risk blowing our cover before it starts. But once it begins, if he turns his attention to me, I'll face him."
No one said anything for a moment. The silence in the camp was heavy with the weight of what was to come.
"Three days," Sheath repeated. "Get everyone ready. No hesitation. No fear."
They all nodded, each one understanding what was at stake.
This wasn't just a mission. It was the last move on a board where every wrong step meant death.
And there would be no second chance.