Apocalypse: becoming the hidden Ruler[English]

Meanwhile, in the Whisper Syndicate’s Everton Training Base, the tension was already palpable.

Vince and Rosaline sat facing each other in an empty meeting room. The rest of the squad—Kaia and the others—had been sent out moments ago. Rosaline’s expression was grim; she could tell Vince was holding something back.

“Alright,” she said, folding her arms. “They’re gone. Now talk. What the hell happened?”

Vince hesitated for a moment, then exhaled heavily. “Axel called me.”

Rosaline’s eyes narrowed. “And?”

“He… killed Vaughn Brighthelm.”

“What?!” Rosaline shot up from her seat, her voice sharp enough to cut through the air. “You’re just sitting here after hearing that?!”

She started pacing, fury and anxiety bleeding through her movements. “You know this kid. He never asks for help unless shit’s really gone south! Goddamn it—he’s always stirring up trouble the moment things calm down!”

She grabbed her phone and began scrolling furiously. “Commercial flights will take too long. If the Brighthelms get to him first, he’s finished. Vince, stop staring and get up!”

Vince sighed and rubbed his forehead, his calm demeanor barely holding. “Rosaline. Sit. Down. Please.”

She froze mid-step, glaring at him but reluctantly obeyed.

Vince’s voice lowered. “He told me not to worry. Said he’d handle it himself.”

Rosaline slammed her palm against the table. “Handle it? It’s the fucking Brighthelms we’re talking about! You think he can ‘handle’ a family with a Divine Might Realm ancestor?!”

Her words struck home. Vince faltered. Against a family like that, clever tricks only went so far.

“Besides,” she continued, pacing again, “Shiverstone may not be Brighthelm territory, but you think they won’t pull strings? The moment they want him gone, even the Bloodstone Warfare School won’t save him.”

“You’re too pessimistic,” Vince muttered, though his tone lacked conviction.

Rosaline snorted. “And you’re too damned naive.”

For a while, neither spoke. The only sound was the faint hum of the ventilation system. Vince’s mind wandered—to the Mirabelle Mountains, to the growing unease he couldn’t quite name.

Finally, he said, “We should contact the team leader.”

Rosaline nodded sharply. “Agreed.”

They both paused at the same time—remembering Xander’s instructions to Axel after the Northern Suppression Town mission. The memory sent a chill through the air.

Vince’s voice dropped. “Let’s just… report it first. I don’t think this is what we’re afraid it might be.”

Rosaline didn’t argue. Despite their authority within the Syndicate’s investigation branch, their influence in Shiverstone was limited. For now, all they could do was hope.

“Axel’s done more for the Syndicate and the military than anyone his age,” Rosaline murmured, half to herself.

Moments later, the call came through: Axel had already surrendered himself to the Shiverstone police.

Rosaline and Vince both exhaled in relief. “At least he’s still thinking clearly,” she said quietly.

“Yeah,” Vince agreed. “He’s got a plan.”

Without wasting another moment, they went to find Xander—who was still at the training base—ready to deliver the report that could decide whether Axel Brighthelm lived or died.

........

“Team Leader.”

The knock was hurried. Xander looked up from his desk, his face already dark. The moment Vince and Rosaline stepped in, he stood up sharply.

“Don’t panic,” Xander said, his voice clipped but firm. “I was just about to go see General Nolan myself. Don’t worry—Axel’s not provoking him, so we’ve got nothing to fear.”

The two visibly relaxed, shoulders easing.

“General Nolan’s here in Everton,” Xander went on. “I’ll talk to him right now.”

His reaction wasn’t calm like Vince’s had been—there was anger behind his movements, simmering beneath the surface. The Obsidian Unit had only recently earned Class-A military honors, a feat that had secured Xander a place in the Demon Locking Tower. He still remembered how much of that glory had been Axel’s doing.

He marched down the hall, his boots echoing off the tile. “General, I’m coming in,” he called, knocking twice before realizing there was no response. His patience ran out fast—he pushed the door open.

Nolan sat behind his desk, massive shoulders draped in a dark military coat, his face carved from stone. He looked up, clearly displeased.

“Uh—thought you were asleep,” Xander muttered awkwardly.

Nolan’s frown eased just a little. “What is it?” His tone was calm, but it carried weight—the kind that made even seasoned officers think twice.

“General, something’s happened to Axel. You remember him—Axel from the Whisper Syndicate?” Xander’s words tumbled out fast, his agitation bleeding through. “Those Brighthelm bastards actually tried to kill him. It’s outrageous.”

Nolan didn’t reply immediately. The room fell silent.

Xander’s heart skipped. Shit. Maybe I went too far.

Finally, Nolan sighed, the corners of his mouth tightening. “You’re talking like you were there yourself. Do you think I don’t already know?”

Xander froze, face flushing. He forced a dry laugh. “I’m just… anxious, sir. Haha. Axel turned himself in, but he was provoked first. What do you think we should do?”

“Handle it impartially,” Nolan said evenly. “He’s already surrendered. The authorities in Shiverstone will conduct a fair investigation.”

Xander blinked, stunned. “What if the investigation goes against him?”

Nolan looked at him, expression unreadable. “Then it means he’s guilty. And if he’s guilty, he’ll be punished.”

Xander stepped forward, face tightening with desperation. The deep wrinkles around his eyes deepened. “General, that won’t do. Think about it—Axel’s been with us only a year and already reached this level. He’s too valuable to just—what, throw to the wolves? Isn’t there any kind of backdoor?”

Nolan’s frown returned, sharper this time. “Mr. Xander, watch your words. Don’t forget—you’re a soldier.”

Normally, that would’ve shut Xander up. But not this time. He clenched his fists. “General, maybe I don’t understand your rules. But Axel’s special—he’s done things others couldn’t. He deserves better than this bureaucratic bullshit.”

Nolan didn’t answer. The silence stretched out until it became uncomfortable. Finally, he waved a dismissive hand. “That’s enough. The matter’s settled. And Xander—keep your people under control. Don’t let anyone cross the line.”

He turned his gaze back to the papers on his desk, effectively ending the conversation.

Xander stood there for a long moment, staring at him in disbelief. A vein pulsed visibly on his forehead. After several seconds, he took a deep breath, straightened, and clasped his hands in a salute.

“…Understood.”

He turned and walked out without looking back.

Back in Xander’s office, Vince and Rosaline were waiting. When Xander returned, his expression was unreadable.

“Team Leader?” Vince asked carefully. “What did the General say?”

The door slammed open before either could say more, the sound making both of them jump. Xander stalked in, his mood clearly soured.

“The General said Axel will get a fair trial,” Xander said curtly. “Don’t worry about it.”

He couldn’t exactly talk shit about his superior in front of his subordinates, so all he could do was parrot Nolan’s official line.

After a moment, he added, “By the way, we need people on watch tonight. You two are on duty. Guard headquarters—don’t let anyone sneak in or steal anything.”

Rosaline blinked, taken aback. “Thieves? Here? This is the Whisper Syndicate headquarters, sir. Who the hell would dare—”

Then it hit her. It wasn’t about guarding the base—it was about keeping them under watch. Her jaw clenched.

“Team Leader,” she said, her tone turning cold. “That’s a bit low, even for you.”

Before she could explode, Vince stepped forward, cutting her off. “If that’s the General’s order, we’ll follow it,” he said calmly.

Rosaline turned to him in disbelief, but he didn’t meet her eyes.

Xander studied him for a moment, then grunted. “Fine. Get out of here. And keep an eye on the storage room—if anything goes missing, I’m coming straight to you.”

“Understood,” Vince said quietly.

Rosaline bit back her anger and turned on her heel. “Let’s go,” she muttered through gritted teeth. “We’ll head to the storage room first.”

As the two left, the door closed behind them with a muted thud. The room fell silent.

Then Xander slammed his fist on the desk, the sound echoing like a gunshot.

“Goddamn it!” he snarled. “Trouble everywhere I turn—and the General’s just sitting on his ass doing nothing! What the hell is he thinking?!”