Kato, who until that moment had been as still as a rock, suddenly snatched Talandril's letter from the table with a swift movement. His black eyes, now filled with rage and disbelief, darted across the words. The letter was written in the language of humans, and at the top, in delicate but menacing handwriting, it read: A Message from Fate.
Its contents were simple yet terrifying: unconditional surrender of the elf Empire to the Shadow Continent and the Star people. The letter emphasized that there would be no conquest of lands, no enslavement, no plundering—only surrender. Kato grabbed the other letters as well—one for the Human Empire titled A Message from Time, and another for the Vampires titled A Message from Place. All carried the same message: Surrender, or face the end.
Kato, as if unable to believe the words, hurled the letters onto the table in a fury. The sound of papers sliding across the stone echoed like a gunshot in the hall. With a harsh, terrifying voice that seemed to rise from the depths of a dark cave, he roared:
"What the hell is this?"
Talandril let out a deep sigh, as if the weight of the moment was crushing his shoulders. In a calm but heavy voice, he said:
"A week ago, these letters were delivered directly to the emperors of each nation. By a Star man. We couldn't see his face because he vanished quickly, but his eyes… his eyes were enough to make everything clear."
William paused for a moment, his fingers tapping the table with a slow, menacing rhythm. His red eyes, now like two fiery pits, narrowed. In a voice as cold as eternal ice, he said:
"So this isn't a meeting for unity. This is a war room."
His words struck the hall like lightning, transforming the tense atmosphere into deep dread. Rio's heartbeat became uncontrollable, as if it might tear through his chest. The world he had been reincarnated into, the world where he hoped to find peace and a new identity, was now on the brink of a massive war—a war that might destroy everything. His silver eyes fixed on the letters, and for a moment, he felt an invisible shadow rising from them, a shadow that seemed to know him.
In the deadly silence, Risa, the representative of the Ahils, still shivering from the cold, spoke in a faint, trembling voice that seemed to emerge from the depths of her fear:
"What if we surrender?"
Her question was like a spark in a powder keg. The eyes of all the representatives turned to her like sharp blades. Kairos clenched his fists so tightly that his knuckles cracked, his icy blue eyes blazing with rage. Valeria, with a cold, contemptuous smile, dug her nails harder into the table, the sound like a death knell. Hayno, who had been calm until then, raised an eyebrow, his white gaze darkening for a moment. Even Talandril, with all his composure, narrowed his eyes, though amidst the apparent anger, the gazes of some—like Valeria and Talandril—flickered with contemplation, as if they had considered the possibility of surrender.
Talandril, his voice now laced with cracks of worry, said:
"The problem isn't whether we fight or surrender. We don't know what they want. We didn't know before, and we don't know now. Our lands? Our resources?"
Kairos jumped in, his voice brimming with anger and despair:
"They don't want anything! The letters say they only want our surrender and obedience. That's it!"
At that moment, William let out a bitter, cold smirk, one that seemed to rise from the depths of his darkness. Tilting his head slightly, he whispered in a voice so terrifying it was as if death itself spoke:
"Like a dog."
All eyes turned to him. Talandril, stunned, said:
"What?"
William laced his fingers together, a gesture that seemed to restrain a storm within him. His red eyes now gleamed like two stars on the verge of exploding. In a measured voice, he began:
"Think about it. It doesn't matter if you're the greediest person in the world or the simplest. Every being, everyone who breathes in this world, wants something. Years ago, they attacked our continent. Their goal wasn't conquest—if it was, they would've completely destroyed every nation's army and taken the cities. But they didn't. It wasn't about gold or resources—they didn't even go near the mines. It wasn't about reveling in murder or violation—though many died, many others survived. Not a single trace of assault on women or children was ever found."
He paused, as if letting his words sink into everyone's minds. The shadows on the hall's walls seemed to grow darker, the light of the orbs dimmer. Rio felt his breath catch, and Adrina, beside him, gripped his shoulder tighter, as if afraid he might collapse. Nadia, her eyes blazing, stared at William, ready to hang on his every word. Elian, standing like a deadly shadow behind William, placed a hand on the hilt of his sword—a movement that Kairos and Valeria noticed with sharp eyes.
Kato, his face cold but his eyes now filled with surprise and curiosity, said:
"But what, William?"
William brought his laced fingers to his mouth, as if choosing his words with care. His eyes, now more terrifying than ever, were like two pits that could swallow a soul. In a low, ominous voice that seemed to make the ground tremble beneath their feet, he continued:
"But there were signs of torture on many bodies. Those who were killed had been tortured—not one, not two, but hundreds. If they don't kill for pleasure, if they don't enjoy torturing, then there's only one logical reason for torturing others…"
At that moment, Kairos suddenly raised both fists and slammed them onto the table with savage force. The sound reverberated like an explosion in the hall, and a deep crack appeared on the stone surface, as if the stone itself had broken under his rage. Kairos, now writhing with fury, his blue eyes filled with shock and horror, roared in a voice that came from the depths of his throat:
"All these deaths, all the lives lost, all because…"
William nodded, his voice now a sinister whisper:
"Because they're looking for something."
His words pierced the heart of the hall like an arrow, and a deathly silence swallowed everything. Rio felt his body freeze—not from cold, but from a terror that seemed to rise from within him. His gaze fell on the black letters, and for a moment, he felt the golden patterns staring back at him, as if they knew who—or what—he was. Adrina, her face now pale, gripped Rio's shoulder tighter, as if trying to pull him from this nightmare. Nadia, with clenched fists, stared at Kairos. Elian, who had been motionless until then, took a small step forward, his black armor glinting in the light of the orbs—a movement that Valeria answered with a cold, threatening smile.
Valeria, her voice like venom, said:
"Looking for what? If it's not land, not gold, not blood, then what?"
Kairos, still trembling with rage, continued in a broken voice:
"Whatever it is, they're willing to burn the continent to find it."
Risa, her yellow eyes now filled with doubt and fear, whispered:
"Then why not surrender? If they only want our obedience…"
Hayno, who had been silent until then, spoke in a calm but profound voice:
"Because surrendering means the death of our spirit. They want something we don't even understand. And until we understand, we can't decide."
Talandril, his face now pale, stared at the letters. "We have to understand. If this war starts again, the continent we know will be destroyed. Not just us, but every living thing that breathes in this land."
Kato, who had been silent, suddenly let out a smirk, one that seemed to rise from the darkness of his heart.
"Let them come. If they want war, I'll give them war."
William looked at him, and for a moment, something passed between their eyes—not friendship, not enmity, but a shared understanding of this horrific truth. Rio, feeling his legs give way beneath him, stared at his father. William's words had wrapped around his throat like a noose: What were they looking for? What? And why?
Ayhan, who had been standing farther from the meeting table, took a step forward for the first time since the session began and approached his father. In a low voice that only Kato could hear, he whispered words that seemed to calm and subdue Kato slightly.
Rio looked at him, and for a moment, he saw something in Ayhan's brown eyes—not friendship, not enmity, but a cold, emotionless gaze that was vastly different from before. Yet, on the other hand, the black letters on the table seemed alive, and Rio felt with every fiber of his being that this war, these events, were connected to X and his mission in the future.