The King murmured, almost to himself:
"The High Council chamber has never been this silent…"
Not even during the Northern War.
The crest of the Kingdom of Hestia burned beneath the torchlight — an eternal flame carved in gold at the center of white marble.
Stable.
Untouched.
Unshakable.
Or at least, that was what everyone believed.
The Councilor's voice broke the silence.
"Your Majesty, I, Armand, have summoned you to discuss recent events… and to introduce the new Minister of Defense of the Kingdom."
The King nodded.
"Send him in."
The great doors of the chamber opened slowly.
A man entered.
Tall. Fair-skinned. Impeccably dressed. Upright posture. His gaze carried confidence — and something provocative beneath it.
He stopped at the center.
"Good evening to everyone present. It's a pleasure to meet you."
The King inclined his head slightly.
"The pleasure is ours, Mr…?"
The man smiled.
"You may call me Adrian.
Adrian Casillas Jr.
Son of the former First Minister of Defense, João Casillas."
A faint stir spread through the chamber.
"'Son?'"
"'João had a son?'"
The Councilor raised his voice.
"Silence."
He looked at Adrian.
"You may take your seat, Mr. Casillas. Let us begin."
---
The Budget
A young woman stood from the oval table.
Firm posture. Clear voice.
"In the last few months, we have collected 3.3 trillion in gold. However, 2.3 trillion will be allocated to the reconstruction of areas affected by the recent battles."
She took a breath.
"My suggestion is that the remaining amount be invested in reforming the Kingdom's educational and healthcare systems."
The King smiled subtly.
"I like your proposal, Lady Bruna."
"It is approved."
Applause echoed throughout the chamber.
Bruna sat down again.
---
The Report
The Councilor turned toward a rigid-looking man.
"General Arlok, could you share your findings?"
Arlok placed several papers on the table.
His gaze was heavy.
"We need to talk about Thomas's assassination."
The scientist.
A murmur spread through the room.
The Councilor narrowed his eyes.
"The one who split Ray's soul?"
"Yes," Arlok replied.
A brief pause.
"According to my squad's investigation, a masked man invaded Thomas's residence during the night and killed him."
He continued:
"We discovered that the masked man was Thomas's disciple. He participated in all of his experiments.
We do not know the reason for the separation… but it happened."
Adrian crossed his arms.
"And what does that have to do with recent events?"
Arlok looked at him directly.
"More than it seems, Mr. Casillas.
The masked man killed Thomas because he was the only one who knew of his existence."
The chamber went still.
"He was present during the fall of the Ninja Kingdom.
He was the one who delivered the Great Sacred Beasts to Ray and Azazel.
He negotiated the five Moon Crystals."
Silence.
Arlok finished:
"And, by all indications…"
Adrian spoke before anyone else could.
"I have a feeling Leonardo returned because of him."
The Councilor inhaled slowly.
"That is possible?"
"We are not fighting random events," Arlok said. "We are facing a well-informed man. And one who enjoys planning."
The King spoke thoughtfully:
"If this masked man did all of this… he must be extremely powerful."
Arlok shook his head.
"No, Your Majesty.
He appears weak.
No aura.
No vital presence."
The chamber exploded into murmurs.
"'A zombie?'"
Adrian answered firmly:
"Impossible. Zombies do not have functional brains. They do not plan wars."
Bruna lifted her gaze.
"When I was a child… my father used to say that there are people from other dimensions.
Beings without essence.
Without aura."
She swallowed.
"Like walking corpses… but perfectly conscious."
The Councilor frowned.
"Essence is the breath of life granted by God.
Whoever has no essence… is dead."
Adrian inclined his head slightly.
"Your Majesty, with your permission, I would like General Arlok to continue."
The King nodded.
---
The Omen
Arlok took a deep breath.
"Recently, the son of an elderly farmer came to me.
His father died of a heart attack."
Pause.
"Minutes before dying, he said he saw a dark-skinned boy, wearing torn clothes and white hair… fighting against beings of light."
The chamber fell into absolute silence.
"According to him, the boy's presence brought a feeling of love and tranquility.
In the distance… he saw an angel smiling at him.
Then one of the creatures pulled the boy into a rift… and everything disappeared."
Arlok continued:
"Before dying, the farmer began writing a letter.
Happy.
Serene.
He died smiling, holding it."
The King leaned forward.
"The letter is with you?"
Arlok raised the envelope.
"It is."
He handed it to the Councilor.
"Please. Read it to us."
The Councilor opened the paper.
Took a deep breath.
"Title: The Perdition of the World."
And began:
---
The Omen Begins
"And I saw the heavens torn apart.
Lights of countless colors crossed the firmament,
and creatures walked where they should not exist.
The seas were stained with blood,
and heroes fell by the silent river's edge."
"Among the fallen, the one called second shall rise.
With hands marked by destiny,
he will bring down someone greater than himself,
not out of ambition…
but to leave a safe place for his seed in the world."
"Kingdoms built upon chains and dictatorships shall crumble,
and their people will breathe freedom.
But the blame will fall upon the one considered weakest.
He shall wield the Sword of Condemnation,
and through adaptation and pain
he will surpass all who came before him."
"And the one deemed ordinary,
fragile in the eyes of the world,
shall touch the extraordinary.
He will stand out among many,
but his ascension will mark the end of an era.
For when the common reaches the impossible,
the world shall no longer recognize its own face."
"I saw all this in a dream, by the will and goodness of God — may He be praised.
I must depart, for the secrets revealed to me do not belong to this world.
Our Creator loves us all.
Amen."
---
The Councilor finished reading.
The paper trembled slightly in his fingers.
Silence.
Not the common silence of a political meeting.
But the kind that presses against the chest.
The torches crackled against the marble walls. The crest of Hestia seemed to watch them all.
The King did not move for several seconds.
His gaze was fixed on the golden flame carved above the throne.
His hand slowly tightened around the armrest.
"Prophecies…" he murmured. "Is this… a prophecy?"
No one answered.
Councilor Armand was the first to try to regain control.
"With all due respect… a dying old man cannot serve as the foundation for decisions of State."
Several nobles nodded quickly.
They needed that rationality.
They needed it to be delusion.
General Arlok, however, remained rigid.
"Too many coincidences with our current reality, Councilor.
Torn skies. Creatures appearing. A man without aura. Kingdoms falling. None of that is imaginary. Perhaps what he said is true."
A murmur spread.
Bruna spoke, softer than intended:
"And what if the 'weakest' in the prophecy… is already among us?"
The comment dropped like a stone in still water.
Glances crossed.
Suspicion. Fear. Calculation.
The King closed his eyes briefly.
"If this is true… then we are already late."
And at that moment, a chair slid.
The sound echoed.
Adrian stood.
Calm.
Unhurried.
Certain.
He walked to the center of the oval table.
His gaze passed over every face.
"Your Majesty. Councilors." His voice was firm but controlled. "What we heard may not be a prophecy."
A pause.
"But it is a pattern."
The chamber froze.
"A man without aura manipulating history. Torn skies — possibly colliding dimensions. Individuals gaining powers beyond the Kingdom's control. Kingdoms collapsing."
He lifted his gaze to the crest.
"The problem is not what is coming."
His eyes returned to them.
"It is that we have no control over it."
Absolute silence.
Adrian placed both hands on the table.
"If even half of what was read is true… we need a new order.
A structure capable of monitoring, classifying, and containing any individual who surpasses natural limits."
Now they were looking at him differently.
Not as a visitor.
But as a solution.
And for the first time that night…
The silence was not fear.
It was expectation.
A house in the middle of nowhere.
Too much silence.
Frederin was lying down.
Distant voices.
Hurried footsteps.
Then weight.
A body.
Pain.
He slowly opened his eyes.
The ceiling was wooden.
He blinked.
Tried to move.
Burning.
Every muscle seemed to protest.
"Don't try to get up yet."
The voice came from the right.
Frederin turned his head with difficulty.
Augusto was there.
Sitting in a simple wooden chair.
A glass of water in his hand.
His expression far too serious to be normal.
Frederin swallowed.
"I… passed out?"
"You did," Luis answered from near the window. "Pretty badly."
Frederin closed his eyes for a second.
The fight.
The energy.
The collapse.
"How long?"
"Two days," Augusto said.
Silence.
Frederin inhaled deeply.
"And… where are we?"
Luis and Augusto exchanged a glance.
Too fast.
"My house," Luis replied.
A knock on the door.
"Luis, Augusto, a Kingdom soldier is looking for you."
The voice was female.
Ruby.
"Let him in, Ruby," Augusto replied.
The door opened.
The soldier entered.
Ruby left immediately.
Impeccable armor.
Rigid posture.
In his hands, a sealed envelope bearing Hestia's crest.
The air in the room changed.
"First Sentinel Luis Clent Dinark.
Second Sentinel Augusto Oliveira."
The formality was different.
Cold.
Distant.
"By order of the High Council, I bring official notice."
Frederin felt his heart race.
Luis walked toward the soldier.
Took the envelope.
Broke the seal.
Opened the letter.
Silence.
Frederin watched his face.
And saw something he had never seen before.
Stillness.
Augusto stepped forward.
"What is it?"
Luis did not answer immediately.
His eyes moved slowly across the lines.
Calculating.
Then he spoke.
Without emotion.
"Freedom has arrived."
The room felt smaller.
Frederin blinked.
"What do you mean… freedom?"
Augusto snatched the paper from his hand.
Read quickly.
His jaw tightened.
"'By democratic decision of the Council…'
'Immediate removal of Sentinel titles…'
'Revision of military structure…'
'Mandatory subordination to new directives…'"
Frederin felt something tighten inside his chest.
"This is a joke… right?"
No one laughed.
The soldier remained still.
"The order takes effect immediately."
Frederin looked at Luis.
Expecting explosion.
Expecting fury.
Expecting destruction.
But Luis merely folded the letter.
Carefully.
"Understood."
The soldier left.
The door closed.
Silence.
Heavy.
Augusto turned… smiling.
"So that's it? We can actually do this?"
Frederin frowned.
Luis walked to the window.
The Kingdom looked the same.
But it wasn't.
"This new Minister of Defense, Adrian Casillas… doesn't know what he's doing."
Pause.
"But that's not our problem right now."
Augusto spread his arms.
"Let's enjoy life!"
Frederin felt a chill.
"You've been stripped of your titles… and you're happy?"
Luis remained silent.
Too long.
"It's still too early for you to understand."
Augusto turned sharply toward Frederin.
"You're going to train with us."
Pause.
"For now."
Frederin understood.
This wasn't submission.
It was something else.
Luis looked directly at him.
"Get up, Frederin."
Pause.
"You woke up in a new era."
He looked back outside.
"And out there… the Kingdom's flags are trembling.
As if nothing had changed."
Frederin tried to move.
Pain cut through him like a blade.
"I'm sorry… but I can't really move. Everything hurts."
Augusto sighed.
"Give him three days, Luis. He's still a rookie."
Luis's expression shifted.
Something crossed his eyes.
Sadness?
Frustration?
He left the room without another word.
Augusto walked to the door.
"Rest, friend. We'll be back soon."
The door closed.
Silence.
Frederin placed a hand over his chest, feeling the bandages.
Breathed slowly.
The physical pain was bearable.
The other one… wasn't.
The door opened again.
Light footsteps.
"Hello. How are you?"
Frederin turned his head.
Ruby.
"Fine… I think. And you? Ruby, right?"
She smiled slightly.
"Exactly."
She closed the door behind her.
Walked closer to the bed.
Her gaze was different.
Serious.
"I want to talk to you."
Frederin held her gaze.
"Go ahead."
Ruby took a deep breath.
And the silence deepened.