MIGHT AS WELL BE OP

Time rolled forward swiftly as the next day dawned, bringing with it the hour of the long-anticipated meeting. An ancient, resonant voice echoed through the Younger Generation building, carrying with it a weight of authority that demanded immediate attention. Its vibrations stirred everyone from whatever they had been doing, pulling them into a sudden state of alertness.

"All of the Younger Generation, you are to vacate this building within the hour and convene with the Older Generation from your respective organizations. The meeting will commence in precisely one hour."

As the voice rumbled through the halls, people stirred. Some who had been sleeping awoke abruptly, blinking against the sudden intrusion. Others, engaged in various extracurricular bed activities, rose and moved in a flurry, hastily donning their clothing. Those in the middle of training came to an instantaneous halt, each individual aligning themselves with the silent order of readiness that swept through the building like a tide.

Anthony, however, remained untouched by this morning rush. He had spent the entire time in the company of Aaaninja and Lucian's team. Aura had joined them as well, though Charles and Bills had yet to return. By now, Akira had already completed her minor mission, having absconded once more with another portion of cat food.

"It seems it is time," Anthony murmured quietly. He was not in his own room. Instead, he and the rest of the group had wandered through the building, making the most of the few hours remaining before the meeting. In lieu of solitary preparation, they had chosen to spend the time together.

Anthony rose from his seat, stretching lightly. "It appears the meeting will take place within the main hall, or whatever that building is," he remarked, pushing himself upright. Beside him, Kingsley and Vega also stood, Vega having returned with Veronica after successfully resolving the matter at hand.

"See you later, then," Aaaninja said from where he remained seated, his calm demeanor unchanged.

"It was a pleasure meeting all of you," Vega replied, her eyes flicking appreciatively across the group. Kingsley remained silent, offering only a subtle nod of agreement. With that, they turned and departed.

After walking a short distance, Vega spoke once more, her tone light. "Your friends seem… fun," she said, addressing Anthony directly.

Anthony smiled in response. "They are," he confirmed simply.

Time flowed onward as minutes passed. Various teams of three or less proceeded toward the building's porch, leaving the Younger Generation building in orderly waves. Each group ascended, flying toward the designated location for the Older Generation. The sky was filled with countless figures streaking upward, a spectacle of motion and purpose.

Whenever the Younger and Older Generations converged, they shot upward into the air, streaking like meteors toward the floating, majestic castle that served as the meeting venue.

Stepping outside, Anthony felt the wind brush against his skin. Waves of chatter and distant shouts collided with his senses, yet he remained undistracted. Without hesitation, he surged forward, a blur as he streaked toward the location where he sensed Collins, Michael, Mitchelle, and the First and Third Supreme Monarchs.

"How have you been?" Mitchelle called to Anthony the moment she saw him.

"I'm good," Anthony replied lightly. "Nothing major, just a group of arrogant people, that's all."

"Same," Mitchelle said, a gentle sigh escaping her lips. Anthony's gaze shifted to Michael, who hovered nearby with a relaxed smile.

"You seem excited," Anthony remarked, noting the unusual energy radiating from him.

Michael's smile broadened. "Do not mind him," Mitchelle said, nodding toward Michael. "He is simply exhilarated because he has been sparring nonstop until we were informed that there was only an hour remaining before the meeting."

Anthony nodded, acknowledging her explanation, and then turned his attention to the two Supreme Monarchs and Collins. Vega and Kingsley said nothing, hovering quietly in midair, observing the scene.

Suddenly, every eye shifted sharply to the horizon. Presence and killing intent tore through the sky in chilling waves, alerting the Older Generation to the news of the deaths of several members of the Younger Generation. Panic spread in bursts. Some did not yet know who was responsible for these deaths, while others did, and as a result, multiple battles erupted almost instantly.

Anthony and his team vanished from their positions, reappearing at a distant vantage point. They watched the chaos unfold with unreadable expressions. Anthony soon felt a penetrating stare on his back. Turning slightly, he saw the five Older Generations and two younger generations of the same race as the silver-haired man he had made crawl towards him about two days ago.

But Anthony noticed no overt killing intent in any of the five Older Generation members' eyes. It was not that they were indifferent to the death of the silver-haired Younger Generation member, they simply did not dare show aggression. They had witnessed Michael battle numerous Older Generation members within their own building before. That memory alone acted as a formidable deterrent.

Anthony's gaze shifted to the girl standing beside the man. She was the same woman who had begged him to spare the silver-haired man. She met his gaze and nodded silently, offering no words.

Anthony returned the gesture with a nod, maintaining his composure. Michael followed his gaze, his black eyes landing on a group of Older Generation members who had fixated on his son.

Without a word, Sword Intent bloomed into existence, pulsing with tremendous force and filling the sky. It shaped itself into crescent moons that converged upon the group of Older Generation members.

The Older Generation felt their souls scream for survival instinctively. Without hesitation, they grabbed the remaining two Younger Generation members and vanished from their positions in a blur. The moment they disappeared, Michael's Sword Intent sliced through the clouds and space where they had stood, tearing the air like a razor through paper.

The Older Generation retreated swiftly, their bodies streaking through the sky without daring to glance backward. Though they had shown no overt intent toward Anthony, Michael understood that their mere gaze in his direction suggested they had at least considered it.

Anthony, however, remained unbothered. Previously, it had been impossible for the Older Generations to attack one another due to the binding mana contracts they had all signed. Now, those contracts were null and void, as they were no longer confined to the building.

Michael, however, had no desire to kill them. He was not bloodthirsty; he merely sought to intimidate. With that goal accomplished, the Sword Intent dissipated, and his attention returned to the ongoing battle. The one-hour window before the meeting offered a brief, chaotic opportunity for participants to resolve their differences.

As usual, Anthony waved his hand casually. Quantum Manipulation manifested a bucket of popcorn in midair. He settled comfortably, floating slightly above the fray, and watched the chaos unfold before him. With nothing pressing to attend to, he allowed himself the simple indulgence of observation, his expression calm as he enjoyed the unfolding spectacle.