For the first time in a long while, Oberon Enigmalnk wore a troubled expression on his face.
He sat cross legged in the center of a room, surrounded by complex runes etched into the floor and walls, glowing with a golden light.
His gaze was sharp, lit brightly with an intense golden hue, as he focused his full attention on the task at hand.
From time to time, the runes would flare brightly before dimming slightly.
'Why are my assumptions never wrong?' he thought.
Before the Nexus event began, the paragons had gathered for a serious meeting. They were all aware of Atticus's talent and potential and had to discuss the possible repercussions if he were to win the competition.
The chances were slim, but still possible. And they wanted to plan for that possibility.
Oberon had considered multiple scenarios, and each one was as bad as the last. It had been so crazy that there was practically no good outcome.
Should Atticus win the Nexus, the human domain was sure to face serious challenges.
Still, none of the paragons had even suggested forfeiting. To them, losing Sector 10 would effectively spell the end of the human race —it would only be a matter of time. The resources they were getting from there was just that important.
Due to the lack of information, even Oberon couldn't predict precisely what would happen. So they had settled on making assumptions and crafting a plan of action for each scenario.
This was why Oberon was now enacting the plan for the current unfolding situation.
As soon as the battle ended, Atticus and the other paragons were supposed to return to the human domain immediately.
The human race was far from being friends with the other races, so they couldn't imagine a reason for them to stay behind.
But if something beyond their control prevented their return, at least one of them was supposed to come back and relay the situation. That had been the plan. However, that hadn't happened.
Which brought Oberon to his current situation.
Before Atticus left, Oberon had tagged him with a rune, which he was now using to try and lock onto his location.
The plan was simple, but executing it was incredibly difficult. Oberon planned to teleport to Atticus's location and bring them all back.
He didn't know exactly what they were facing, but he could only hope no Dimensari paragon was present.
'I'll have only a split second. Even if they're not in that exact location, they'll lock onto me the moment I teleport into their domain.'
Using any space related element in the Dimensari domain was like announcing his presence with a loudspeaker.
But they had no other choice. At least in the human domain, they could still stand their ground with the Aegis Shield.
The rest of the paragons had to remain in the human domain in case anything happened. Which was why he was going alone.
"Your will is certainly impressive, but it's not enough. Send me instead."
Oberon's eyes snapped open in shock, and his gaze landed on a handsome man with a broad smile, leaning casually against the wall.
Oberon had been intently focused on his task. He knew he was distracted by the current crisis, but he, Oberon Enigmalnk, hadn't sensed this man's presence until he spoke?
He was wary. Oberon's expression hardened, and he narrowed his gaze. "Who?"
The man's smile widened as he stepped toward Oberon.
"Whisker Von Pounce. But as my friend, you can call me Whisker~"
…
The atmosphere in the hall was heavy. One moment, Atticus had been walking through the banquet hall; the next, he found himself in the middle of a circular hall, with the paragons of the different races seated on thrones around him.
Atticus wasn't the only one teleported; the other apexes present at the banquet were there too. However, the paragons' eyes seemed to be focused on him.
Atticus felt an intense weight press down on him, but only for a brief moment. The air around him crackled, and lightning suddenly wrapped around his body, dispelling the weight completely.
Atticus turned to the side and spotted Magnus sitting alone with the three other human paragons. Their thrones seemed less luxurious compared to those of the superior races.
With a glance, he could see that many of the paragons whose apexes had died weren't present, especially those from the lower races.
Still, Atticus wasn't given a moment to process or offer his thanks.
Azakarn's voice suddenly filled the hall, breaking the silence, and all eyes turned toward him.
"Apexes," he said, his voice both commanding and smooth.
"First, let me congratulate each of you on your impressive performances in the Verietega Nexus. The Alliance is fortunate to have such remarkable talents among us."
His gaze swept across the room before briefly settling on Atticus. He continued,
"You are all valuable assets, talents that cannot simply be allowed to go to waste."
"And so, the council has devised the best possible reward for your achievements. Each of you will be granted the title of General in the Alliance Army."
The entire hall was silent. The paragons already knew what the reward was, but they were sure it was the first time the apexes were hearing it. And yet, there was no shock, no sadness, nor happiness. They showed no reaction.
Their auras remained calm, and their expressions neutral. They were all reincarnated beings, and were primarily focused on their own interests.
The title of General was merely a guise to coerce them into fighting for the Alliance. The plot was so transparent that they had all anticipated it. They felt nothing.
Many of the paragons couldn't help but clear their throats awkwardly as they observed the apexes' lack of reaction. They were all strange in their own ways.
But Azakarn continued.
"With that title comes a responsibility to strengthen yourselves further. Therefore, you will all undergo one year of specialized training to prepare for the battles that lie ahead."
Azakarn suddenly turned his gaze directly to Atticus, his lips curving into a slight smile.
"And of course, we could not overlook our champion, Apex Atticus."
This time, all the apexes in the hall focused on him. Their gazes were filled with various emotions, but Atticus remained calm, keeping his gaze fixed on Azakarn. He already knew where this was going.
"You are an extraordinary talent, one that even the council had not anticipated. And as we all know, if we continue on our current path, the war with the Zorvans may well end in our defeat. We need change, and that change… we see it in you."
Azakarn's voice softened, but he was fooling no one. "But a talent as rare as yours requires careful and thorough cultivation, which is why the Alliance has decided to have you remain here, under the guidance of a superior race, to develop that talent to its fullest potential."
He offered a faint smile. "For the good of the planet, of course. So, what do you say?"
'What a joke,' Atticus thought, holding back a laugh at the poor attempt. Was he expecting anyone to fall for this bull crap? However, now wasn't the time for this.
'Thorne was right,'
Atticus recalled Thorne's assessment of the Dimensari. They saw themselves as the head of the Alliance, and preferred diplomatic approaches to achieve their goals. This was exactly what they were trying here.
'For the good of the planet, my ass,'
Although Atticus saw through the facade, it didn't change the fact that it was a difficult situation. It was practically air tight.
However, Atticus had never been one for mind games. There was nothing better than being direct, and the subtle assurance he felt from the crackling lightning around his body reinforced that point.
Atticus bowed slightly, offering just enough respect to satisfy formalities. His voice was calm and unfazed.
"I thank you all for your kind words. But I'd like to ask—what was my grandfather's response?"
Azakarn's expression narrowed. Before summoning the apexes, they had discussed the matter among themselves, and despite the humans being held in little regard, Magnus had immediately given them a firm no.
"He said no."
Atticus nodded, his expression unchanged, almost as if he had anticipated that answer.
"Then that's my answer, too."
The entire hall descended into silence, but it was soon broken.
"Azakarn,"
A sharp voice cut through the air, cold and direct. Everyone turned toward the Vampyros paragon, Jezenet Bloodveil.
"I've advised you to stop this pointless diplomacy. It's a waste of time."
Her gaze swept over Atticus.
"We are losing a war with the Zorvans, and we need talents that can turn the tide. Whether you like it or not, you are part of this Alliance. You've been protected since birth, enjoying all the privileges we've provided you."
"Your humans don't have the resources to nurture a talent like yours, and we cannot afford to let it go to waste."
"Don't mistake this meeting for us asking permission. We're merely informing you."