Chapter 127
"If we examine it from the perspective of the city's shifting energy currents, then the most likely possibility is that the orbit is not merely a symbol or a bluffing tactic. Rather, it is a process of frequency adjustment. It is possible that they are aligning Thalyssra's resonance with the dimension of the Accursed One, step by step, until—"
Huuuuuuh!
"...."
Buuuuk!!
"Shaqar, there is another member of Team Xirkushkartum who is not under the command of Zhulumat Katamtum. He is requesting an immediate audience. He says his report cannot be delayed."
At the moment when one of the captains was about to present his opinion, which would have likely become yet another theory among dozens that never reached a conclusion.
At the moment when his mouth was already half open and the first word was about to slip from the tip of his tongue.
Something happened.
Not something grand.
Not something dramatic.
Not something that produced sound, light, or vibrations perceivable by ordinary senses.
Yet everyone in the room felt it.
Everyone sensed it.
Everyone knew that something had changed within the meeting room that had long been filled with restless thoughts that never reached clarity.
The silhouette of Apathy slowly appeared at the threshold of the room.
At the boundary between light and darkness created by the unstable flickering glow.
At the boundary between the world inside the meeting circle and the uncertain world beyond.
The silhouette did not move quickly.
Nor did it move slowly.
Yet it moved at a pace that made everyone watching feel as though time itself had suddenly shifted rhythm.
Slower.
Heavier.
Filled with anticipation.
The Satanist elites gathered under the Banner of Zhulumat tensed in unison.
Their bodies, which had begun to relax due to exhaustion from the endless discussion, returned to alertness.
Ready.
Prepared for whatever Apathy's arrival might bring.
Their eyes, which had begun to dim from prolonged wakefulness, sharpened once more.
Focused.
Observing every movement of the soldier who had just emerged from the darkness.
On the other side of the circle, the captains of Team Xirkushkartum—who had been exchanging increasingly erratic theories, some of them still with their mouths half open from being interrupted mid-sentence—fell silent.
Froze.
Directed all their attention to the single point where Apathy stood.
No one moved.
No one spoke.
No one even dared to look away.
Because they all knew that Apathy would not enter a meeting like this unless something important had occurred.
Something urgent.
Something that could not be delayed even for a single second.
After ten seconds—though it felt like ten minutes or even ten hours for those waiting with held breath—Apathy began to move.
His steps were steady.
Not rushed.
Not hesitant.
Yet not too fast to arouse suspicion.
He crossed the distance separating him from the inner circle.
Passing the elites seated with tense bodies.
Passing the captains who remained frozen with half-open mouths.
Passing the empty spaces that suddenly felt like deep chasms.
And when he finally reached Shaqar's right side.
When he stood beside the captain who had long been his direct superior.
When the distance between them had narrowed to no more than a clenched fist.
Apathy stopped.
He did not speak immediately.
Did not open his mouth.
Did not convey what had brought him here.
Instead, he slightly bowed his head.
Offering brief respect to Shaqar.
To everyone present.
To Zhulumat Katamtum, who still sat frozen at the center of the circle.
Then, with a very careful motion, he leaned closer.
Positioning his mouth near Shaqar's ear.
Creating a private space within a public room filled with watching eyes.
The whisper came out very softly.
Very gently.
Very secretly.
No more than a breath shaping words against the surface of Shaqar's eardrum.
Apathy informed him that another member of Team Xirkushkartum—one not under Zhulumat Katamtum's command—had arrived.
Had just reached the border.
And was insisting on meeting Zhulumat Katamtum along with the Satanist elites present in this room.
"The Angels and every Holy Being under Heaven's command are currently surrounding an ancient structure. A castle that stands at the boundary between silent lands and territories that no longer acknowledge light. They are not moving randomly. Their formation is structured. Layered. Both defensive and protective. This is not a typical siege."
Huuuuh!
"We do not know with certainty what the minions of the Accursed One are doing inside that structure.
The information we have obtained is fragmented.
Obstructed by unusual energy interference.
However, one thing we can confirm.
A ritual is taking place."
Ssshhh!
"The energy wave does not resemble prayer. Nor purification. It pulses like something being forced into existence before its time. And if my judgment is not mistaken… that ritual will not bring good to our satanist world. Whether they intend to awaken something. Seal something. Or open a rift long kept locked. Whatever their purpose, the end result has the potential to shake the balance we have long maintained."
The presence was not announced.
Not introduced.
Not preceded by the protocols or procedures that should have been followed.
It simply arrived.
Emerging from the same cracks of darkness that Apathy had passed through moments earlier.
Stepping forward with unquestionable certainty.
Positioning itself directly to the right of where Apathy still stood.
Its posture was firm despite not being particularly tall.
Its robe was covered in travel dust yet to be cleaned.
Its face showed clear exhaustion, yet its eyes remained sharp like those of an eagle watching prey from afar.
No one in the room moved.
No one spoke.
No one even dared to look away from the newly arrived figure.
The Satanist elites under the Banner of Zhulumat watched with a mix of curiosity and caution.
The captains of Team Xirkushkartum under Zhulumat tensed, their muscles ready for any possibility.
And Shaqar, who had been processing Apathy's whisper, now focused all his attention on the newcomer standing only inches away from him.
Apathy, a soldier who had gone through too many battles to be surprised by anything, reacted with unfailing speed.
He understood the situation in an instant.
Reading the body language of the newly arrived representative.
Grasping from the way the man stood and regulated his breathing that he wished to speak.
To convey something.
To deliver a few words to Zhulumat Katamtum, who still sat frozen at the center of the circle.
Apathy also realized that his own presence beside the man—though only moments ago it had been appropriate—was now beginning to feel like an obstacle.
A disruption.
Something that should not exist between the representative and the supreme leader who was the true destination of the words about to be spoken.
To be continued…