(Axis Government – Underground Council Chamber)
Panic had a sound.
It was the sharp scrape of chairs, the clipped arguments, the rising volume of voices that all spoke at once and said nothing useful.
"We've lost him," Director Hale snapped. "We've lost another Saint."
Elias Harrow slammed a hand on the table. "Don't say 'lost' like it was inevitable. This was bad leadership. Bad judgment."
"From you," someone shot back.
The room erupted.
Only one chair remained untouched.
Blake Rogers sat there, arms crossed, jaw tight, saying nothing. The only Saint still officially on their side—and everyone in the room felt how fragile that fact was.
"This is unacceptable," Hale said, regaining control. "Eli walking away sends a message. To Neo. To Justice. To the public."
"And what message do you think this sent?" Harrow snapped. "Creating that thing? That abomination?"
A heavy silence followed.
No one answered.
Because they all knew the truth.
They had crossed a line—and Neo had to come save them.
"We have no deterrent," one of the senior advisors said quietly. "If the Saint of Wisdom decides to move against us… we don't have a counter."
Eyes shifted. Uneasy. Afraid.
Blake finally spoke, voice low. "Then stop giving him reasons."
No one liked that answer.
Hale leaned back slowly, fingers steepled. "No. We prepare."
"For what?" someone asked.
"For the worst-case scenario," Hale replied. "For a Saint turning hostile. For Justice intervening. For Neo deciding authority itself is the enemy."
A pause.
Then, colder: "We begin contingency planning. Not replication. Not control."
"Then what?" Harrow asked.
Hale's eyes hardened.
"Neutralization."
The room went still.
Somewhere deep beneath the building, sealed doors unlocked. Systems long buried were powered on. Files marked FORBIDDEN were reopened.
All in the name of preserving order.
All in the name of fear.
And none of them realized they were no longer preparing for a war—
They were provoking one.
⸻
I was still in the domain when it happened.
W.I.S.D.O.M had been quiet for almost an hour—too quiet. The sample floated inside the alchemical lattice, suspended between sigils older than language, its structure slowly being unraveled, rewritten, confessed.
Then the air changed.
Not pressure.
Not energy.
Intent.
W.I.S.D.O.M spoke again, but this time the tone was different—stripped of neutrality.
[WARNING.]
[CROSS-REFERENCING SAMPLE DATA WITH SEALED ARCHIVES.]
[MATCH CONFIRMED.]
My fingers stopped mid-motion.
"Confirmed what," I asked.
A pause. Deliberate.
[THE ABOMINATION WAS NOT A FAILED SAINT.]
[IT WAS A PROTOTYPE.]
The symbols around the sample shifted, reorganizing themselves into a structure I hadn't seen in this life.
And then I understood.
They didn't create power.
They harvested it.
The government hadn't tried to recreate a Saint.
They had dissected what made a Saint human—
and thrown that part away.
[PROJECT DESIGNATION: CONCORD.]
[OBJECTIVES: AUTHORITY PRESERVATION.]
[METHOD: SAINT-CORE EXTRACTION, FRAGMENTATION, AND FORCED CONVERGENCE.]
I felt something cold settle behind my eyes.
"They didn't merge abilities," I said quietly.
[CORRECT.]
[THEY MERGED RESIDUES.]
[INSTINCT. AGGRESSION. SURVIVAL DRIVE.]
[ALL HIGHER COGNITION INTENTIONALLY REMOVED.]
That's why it couldn't be controlled.
That's why it felt wrong.
That thing wasn't a person.
It was a weaponized echo—built from what was left behind after tearing Saints apart across timelines, bloodlines, genetic memory, and soul signatures.
A Saint-shaped extinction switch.
And worse—
[SECONDARY CONFIRMATION.]
["CONCORD" IS NOT A SINGULAR PROJECT.]
My jaw tightened.
"How many," I asked.
Another pause.
Longer this time.
[UNKNOWN.]
[HOWEVER…THE ABOMINATION ENCOUNTERED WAS CLASSIFIED AS GENERATION ONE.]
The domain dimmed.
Generation One.
Meaning they'd already planned improvements.
Meaning they expected it to fail.
Meaning this wasn't defense.
This was escalation.
I exhaled slowly, forcing my thoughts into alignment before anger could touch them.
"So this is your contingency," I murmured. "Not against Justice. Not against anomalies."
Against me.
W.I.S.D.O.M didn't deny it.
[PROBABILITY ASSESSMENT: 87.3%]
I closed my eyes.
For a moment, I saw another life—another council, another betrayal, another day when fear convinced people that gods should be chained.
History doesn't repeat, I thought.
It refines.
When I opened my eyes, the domain responded to my mood—sigils flaring, circuits humming, reality bending just enough to listen.
"Archive everything," I said calmly. "Lock it behind Wisdom Protocol—triple seal."
[ACKNOWLEDGED.]
"And W.I.S.D.O.M?"
[YES, SAINT OF WISDOW.]
I looked at the floating remains of the sample, at the truth the government thought no one would ever uncover.
"They think they're preparing for war."
A faint hum ran through the domain, almost curious.
"They're not," I continued. "They're preparing to be judged. From now on, they are officially my enemy."
[ACKNOWLEDGED.]
Outside, the world was still pretending everything was fine.
Inside the Axis State, dangerous plans were moving.
And somewhere between those two realities—
The fracture had already begun.
⸻
I didn't tell them right away.
With everything that was happening in the Axis State, I couldn't find the perfect time.
We were back in the domain—Lina seated near the inner ring, Eli leaning against a support pillar, arms crossed, eyes sharp. W.I.S.D.O.M kept the ambient light low, the way Lina preferred when she was here.
"You're holding something back," Eli said eventually.
He was right.
I exhaled and let the truth surface.
"As you both know, I went to the Darkshore Union," I said.
Lina's head snapped up.
"Yes we do— was it to see how dangerous Justice is? " she asked.
"Aurelian," I corrected. "I learned his name. And the Saint of Mercy has also awakened and is with Aurelian."
"That would mean all Saint are officially awakened in this era." Eli concluded.
I nod in response of what he said.
That alone changed the air.
I told them everything—not all at once, but cleanly. How Justice wasn't the tyrant the Axis painted him as. How the Darkshore Union wasn't a cage, but a system—one designed with Bio‑Marked individuals, not against them.
"No surveillance collars," I continued. "No forced registration. No extraction programs. Infrastructure that adapts—transport, energy, healthcare—built to accommodate anomalies and non‑anomalies equally."
Eli frowned. "That's… not what we were told."
"Of course not," I said. "Fear is easier to govern with than truth."
Lina stayed quiet, absorbing it. Then softly—
"So he's not the villain," she said.
"No," I replied. "But he's not innocent either."
I told them about his goal—about how he hoped to see me again. Not just me, but both of them as well. Aurelian had made it clear that he carried information too important to ignore, something he wanted all of us present for.
Whatever grudge he held against the government, this went beyond it. What he knew had the potential to affect the world itself.
Lina didn't hide her discomfort. Her arms crossed instinctively, eyes narrowing at the mention of Aurelian's name.
"I don't trust him," she said flatly. "Not for a second."
Eli nodded in agreement, his expression just as guarded. "Someone like that doesn't resurface without an angle."
I met their gazes and held them there. "I know. And you're right to be cautious. But I trust my judgment—and he wouldn't risk reaching out unless this truly mattered."
There was a brief silence.
Lina exhaled slowly, her shoulders relaxing just a fraction. "If you're vouching for him… then I'll listen. That doesn't mean I like it."
Eli gave a short nod. "Same here. We don't trust Justice—but we trust you, Neo. That's enough."
The domain went still.
Then—
It happened.
A pulse tore through my perception like a struck bell.
Another Saint.
Not hostile.
Not hidden.
Present.
W.I.S.D.O.M reacted instantly.
[ALERT.]
[SAINT-LEVEL SIGNATURE DETECTED— EXTERNAL.]
[NON-HOSTILE CLASSIFICATION… PENDING.]
At the same time, alarms began screaming across the city.
Not ours.
The government's.
Lina stood up slowly. "They felt it too."
"Yes," I said.
Across the Axis State, emergency protocols ignited. Military channels flared to life. Satellites realigned. Borders locked down.
On screens across the city, red warnings scrolled.
UNIDENTIFIED SAINT-LEVEL ENTITY ENTERED NATIONAL TERRITORY.
The government didn't hesitate.
They assumed the worst.
"Justice?" Eli muttered. "Aurelian."
"Wrong," I said.
Checkpoints snapped into place at airports, ports, and transit gates. Armed units mobilized within minutes. Every sensor they had turned inward, hunting a presence they didn't understand.
I closed my eyes.
Seraphine was here.
And the Axis State—terrified, cornered, and ignorant—was about to make another mistake.
I opened them again, calm settling like steel.
"Stay here," I told Lina and Eli.
"Neo—" Lina started.
"I know," I said gently. "I'll handle this."
Outside, sirens wailed.
Inside, Wisdom aligned.
And somewhere between fear and mercy—
The next collision began.
⸻
She arrived quietly.
No explosion. No spectacle.
Just a ripple—like the world briefly forgetting how to breathe.
Seraphine stepped onto Axis soil beneath a gray morning sky, dressed like any other traveler, hood drawn low, eyes calm. To anyone watching, she was just another woman passing through customs.
To me—
She was mercy incarnate.
The moment her feet touched the ground, I felt it. Not through sensors. Not through W.I.S.D.O.M.
Through memory.
A warmth threaded with sorrow. The same presence that once stood beside me when the world burned and still chose to heal what remained.
Far across the city, Lina flinched.
So did the alarms.
⸻
The suit sealed around me in a breath.
W.I.S.D.O.M aligned instantly.
[SAINT OF WISDOM—MOBILITY SYSTEMS ONLINE.]
[EXTERNAL SAINT SIGNATURE LOCKED.]
I didn't waste time.
The city blurred beneath me as I cut through the air, speed climbing past what the drones could track, past what the satellites could correct for. Sirens wailed in the distance—too slow, too late.
I found her standing alone near a transit concourse, hood lowered now, silver hair catching the artificial lights like a mistake the world hadn't corrected yet.
"Seraphine," I said sharply as I touched down in front of her.
She turned—and smiled.
Relief. Warmth. Familiarity.
"What are you doing here?" I demanded, already scanning the perimeter. "Do you have any idea how dangerous this place is for Saints right now?"
"I came to see you," she replied gently. "You didn't exactly make it easy."
I opened my mouth to respond—
And then I heard it.
Sirens.
Drones lifting.
Vehicles converging from every direction.
Too many.
Too coordinated.
Her eyes widened slightly. "That sounds… excessive."
"They felt you," I muttered.
Spotlights snapped on. A dozen at once. Then more.
"Neo—" she began.
I didn't let her finish.
I stepped forward, slipped one arm beneath her knees, the other behind her back, and lifted her effortlessly.
She gasped softly—not in fear.
In surprise.
Her cheeks flushed, and she laughed under her breath, one hand instinctively gripping the front of my suit.
"You've always been dramatic," she said.
"Hold on," I replied.
She did.
The thrusters roared—not loudly, but precisely—and the world dropped away.
We vanished in a streak of light and compressed air, acceleration hitting so hard it shattered windows three blocks away. Drones lost lock instantly, their feeds dissolving into static.
By the time the first command was shouted—
We were already gone.
High above the city, the sirens became noise. The fear became distant.
Seraphine rested her head briefly against my shoulder, smiling like she'd never left.