Apocalypse: becoming the hidden Ruler

At the headquarters of the Whisper Syndicate, Xander ended his phone call, filed the report at the information center, then made his way toward the logistics division.

"Isaac! Where the hell are you? I know you're in there!" he barked, banging on the reinforced metal door.

Two flustered guards at the entrance tried to wave him off. "Mr. Isaac has already clocked out for the day, sir."

Xander scoffed, leaning closer to the door. "Oh, come on. I can smell the stench of money on you through this door, Isaac!"

A calm voice echoed from within. "Let him in. I forgot how sharp your nose is."

Grinning like a kid who got his way, Xander pushed open the door and strolled inside.

.....

The room was lined with black shelves and humming storage cabinets, each stacked with all kinds of tech—shimmering original devices, captured contraband, and experimental prototypes. Anything seized or created by the Syndicate was kept here, and most of it was priceless.

"Xander, you're not home for Christmas. Hanging around the vaults again?" said Isaac, adjusting his glasses as he walked in from the back. He looked to be the same age as Xander, but carried himself with the air of a well-bred scholar.

Xander slumped into a chair and helped himself to Isaac's tea. "Don't make it sound like a robbery. I'm here on official business. Fighting for my subordinate's rights, thank you very much."

Isaac chuckled. "Alright, what treasure of mine are you eyeing this time?"

"The Cloud Chasing Boots," Xander said without hesitation, pointing at a shelf in the back. "They've been gathering dust. Time they found a better home."

Isaac nearly spat out his tea. "You've got a damn nerve. That's a Class-C original device! Do you have any idea what those go for on the open market?"

Xander's tone dropped, suddenly more serious. He tapped a knuckle on the desk. "Isaac… my kid, Axel, took down a level five chromatic dragon. Alone. He evacuated tens of thousands of people in advance. If that doesn't earn him a second-class merit, what does?"

The Cloud Chasing Boots weren't just flashy. They offered a threefold boost to speed and dramatically increased the lethality of leg-based combat techniques. Equipment like that was life or death in the field.

Isaac rolled his eyes. "Don't try that with me. That dragon was already injured—and the merit hasn't even been processed yet!"

Xander folded his arms like a stubborn child. "Then I'll wait right here. I know the process. Once the merit goes through, I'm taking them. Hell, if I have to, I'll storm Nolan's office and raise hell myself."

Isaac sighed, exasperated and amused. "You really are the most shameless bastard I've ever met."

"You say that every time."

"Fine. I'll prep the boots. If Axel's second-class merit is confirmed tomorrow, I'll issue them personally. That work for you?"

Xander patted his shoulder like an old friend. "You're a good man, Isaac. Merry Christmas. I'm off."

After he left, Isaac stared at the exit and sighed.

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"…That damn Xander."

He walked to the shelf, opened a secure cabinet with a coded fingerprint, and retrieved a sleek pair of combat boots with a purple-red metallic sheen. They pulsed faintly with a soft, charged glow—tech infused with precision and power.

Meanwhile, Xander strode down the corridor with a pleased smirk. Isaac was a lot easier to deal with than usual today.

......

By the time night swallowed the city, the Whisper Syndicate's headquarters had gone quiet. It was just past midnight. Isaac returned to his small home in Everton, alone.

His wife had passed away years ago. These days, it was just him, the machines, and his silence.

He lay down on the bed, pulled a visor-style helmet over his eyes, and exhaled.

A second later, his consciousness twisted and stretched—then dropped into the void.

The sky was pitch black. The horizon didn't exist. Just endless shadow.

In the distance, a massive bronze throne emerged from the dark, towering like a relic from ancient myth. Before it stood a figure cloaked in black robes. Isaac's expression changed at once—respectful, almost reverent.

Floating above his head appeared the title: [Ecliptarch]

"Your Majesty," Isaac said, lowering his head slightly. "Axel has learned the truth. He knows that Liorael is his father."

The figure didn't move. But its presence was suffocating, like standing at the edge of a bottomless cliff.

"What was his reaction?" The voice was old, slow, and deep enough to rattle bones.

"He reviewed Liorael's file, but hid his motives during a follow-up call with Xander. Should we make contact?"

The man on the throne didn't reply immediately. After a moment, he said, "Reveal a little. See how he responds."

"If Axel chooses to trust us, he may be useful in the Spirit Fruit Operation."

The throne said slowly, "You believe he's strong enough?"

"He took down a level five chromatic dragon by himself. I'd say he's easily on par with a standard level four awakener."

"But that's not enough to survive the Abyss."

Isaac nodded. "True. But Axel's mind is sharp. Cautious. If he agrees to work with us, I believe he'd be more reliable than any other candidate."

The throne was silent for half a minute.

"…Very well. I will also arrange for him to be added to the Abyss clearance list. Until then—do not act further."

Isaac's breath caught. An Abyss slot…?

That list was locked down at the highest level. Even Isaac, as head of logistics, couldn't authorize entries—he could only make recommendations.

Isaac swallowed. Just who are you… really?

"Next step."

A ripple shimmered in front of Isaac's eyes as his consciousness materialized at the far end of a vast, circular table.

There were eight enormous chairs arranged around the table, but only four were occupied. Each figure was cloaked in shadow, their faces hidden beneath deep hoods. Only their virtual IDs hovered above them like silent nameplates.

The throne's voice rang through the dark chamber. "Ecliptarch has passed along new intelligence. However, the matter is highly classified. It cannot be disclosed in full, even here."

One of the cloaked figures stirred.

"Additionally," The throne continued, "Ecliptarch has nominated a candidate to join the upcoming Abyss operation. He will receive a spot."

That caused a visible reaction. The man marked [Zhurnak] leaned forward slightly.

"Ecliptarch, huh? Are we sure this person's qualified?"

Isaac didn't hesitate. "You'll find out soon enough."

"Just make sure we're not wasting a spot."

Everyone knew the rules. Without a spot, it was impossible to harvest spiritual flora inside the Abyss. Until now, the seven other members of this council had only nominated three candidates between them. That made this sudden appointment all the more interesting.

The shadows remained quiet for a long beat.

The throne broke the silence. "That's all. The meeting is adjourned. When the Eight reconvene, we'll exchange full intelligence."

The virtual chamber faded to black.

Isaac removed his helmet and exhaled quietly into the empty room.

.....

Meanwhile, back in Dune—

Axel sat cross-legged in the quiet of his home, a pulsating, fiery crystal floating between his palms. It was the life crystal harvested from the chromatic dragon. He hadn't absorbed it immediately—these things were too valuable to waste in a rush.

"Brother, the streets are blocked off," Annabelle called from the kitchen.

Axel blinked. "Blocked off? What for?"

He stepped outside and climbed the short wall around their courtyard. The entire neighborhood was locked down—steel fences had been welded into place over every entrance and alleyway.

Not just their house. All the buildings nearby were sealed.

"What the hell's going on?" he muttered.

Annabelle joined him, her eyes slightly anxious. "It's because of last night. The authorities are running full disinfection and inspection to prevent any outbreak."

Axel's face darkened. If they started using bio-scanners, Annabelle's secret wouldn't stay hidden.

"It's alright. I'll make a call." He pulled out his communicator and dialed Silas.