Chapter 20
It is purchased with vigilance, paid in blood, and taxed by everyone who benefits from it without defending it.
Kai learned this within forty-eight hours.
The neutral zones—once theoretical safe corridors negotiated through fear of the Enigma—became magnets. Omegas fled there in waves. Betas rerouted supply chains through them. Displaced Deltas offered protection contracts no pack could officially sanction.
And every faction that publicly praised neutrality privately tested its limits.
The first strike was subtle.
A transport convoy vanished between two neutral checkpoints. No distress call. No wreckage. Just absence.
The second was louder.
An Omega enclave was raided at dawn—not by Crescent or Night insignia, but by unmarked units using hybrid tactics. Professional. Deliberate.
Message sent.
Neutrality would be punished.
Veyr slammed a data slate onto the strategy table. "We warned you this would happen."
"I know," Kai replied evenly.
"You built a sanctuary without teeth."
Kai looked up. "No. I built one without ownership."
"That's not the same thing."
"It is when ownership is the problem."
Veyr exhaled sharply, forcing restraint. "Night is circling."
"I'm counting on it."
Night Pack did not attack directly.
They offered protection.
An envoy arrived—polished, courteous, carrying centuries of refined menace.
"Night proposes a partnership," the envoy said smoothly. "Shared oversight of neutral zones. Joint enforcement. Mutual benefit."
Kai smiled thinly. "You want influence without responsibility."
The envoy inclined their head. "We want stability."
The Enigma, silent until now, spoke without looking at them.
"You want leverage."
The room chilled.
The envoy did not deny it.
That night, Kai stood alone in the operations hall, staring at shifting maps.
"You're going to refuse them," the Enigma said quietly from behind him.
"Yes."
"They'll retaliate."
"Yes."
The Enigma moved closer. "And Crescent?"
Kai laughed without humor. "They're already bleeding."
The Enigma studied him. "You're choosing conflict."
Kai turned. "I'm choosing honesty."
He stepped closer, lowering his voice. "Neutrality only works if it's defended by principle, not power."
The Enigma searched his face. "And if principle fails?"
"Then," Kai said, "we protect people anyway."
Night's retaliation was immediate—but indirect.
Smear campaigns. Economic destabilization. Manufactured incidents framing neutral forces as aggressors.
Public sentiment wavered.
And then Night made their real move.
They leaked classified projections.
Scenarios showing that if the Enigma ever lost control, neutral zones would be the first erased.
Fear spread faster than truth.
A council of displaced leaders convened in emergency session.
"You've turned us into targets," one Omega representative accused Kai.
"You promised safety," another said.
Kai didn't deflect.
"I promised choice," he replied. "Safety was never guaranteed. Not under Crescent. Not under Night. Not under me."
The room erupted.
Until the Enigma stepped forward.
"I will not rule you," they said. "But I will not abandon you."
Silence fell.
They continued, voice steady. "Anyone who uses fear of me to control you has already chosen violence."
The council watched.
Some believed.
Some didn't.
That was enough.
The attack came at dusk.
Multiple fronts. Precision strikes. No insignia.
Neutral defense lines held—for exactly six minutes.
Then the Enigma acted.
Not with annihilation.
With subtraction.
Energy collapsed inward. Space folded. Attack vectors ceased to exist.
When the dust cleared, no one was dead.
But every hostile force was disarmed, displaced, and very aware.
The message was unmistakable.
Neutrality was not weakness.
It was restraint—backed by consequence.
Later, Kai found the Enigma seated alone, hands shaking slightly.
"You overextended," he said softly.
"Yes."
"Worth it?"
The Enigma looked up at him. "Ask me again if they try tomorrow."
Kai sat beside them.
Night Pack went silent.
Crescent went desperate.
And the world learned the real price of neutrality.