"This entire land is in grave danger!"
The chilling news spread through diplomatic circles like a silent plague. Following the historic summit hosted by Laterano, the assembled delegates were left feeling nothing but sheer foreboding.
Many had initially wondered if the warning was a diplomatic exaggeration. Yet backed by Laterano's ironclad reputation and validated by several major empires, the revelation left the foreign envoys stunned and deeply unsettled. Fortunately, state officials kept the intelligence tightly contained, preventing widespread panic among the public.
Even so, deep anxiety gripped the leadership of every sovereign realm. Most governments possessed little understanding of the ancient horrors lingering on Terra's fringes, and this sudden realization left them thoroughly flat-footed.
Nations like Yan simply elevated the threat level assigned to the ocean beasts. What interested them far more was Laterano's proposal for an international alliance—and precisely what the Holy City hoped to achieve.
If Pope Yvangelista intended to use this crisis to forge a permanent summit where all nations could sit as equals, Laterano would first have to prove it had the power to guide Terra through the storm.
Yet even the court scholars of Yan could devise no easy strategy to eradicate the oceanic tide. Though their empire possessed incredible martial strength and capable strategists, confronting such a threat seemed to leave them with little recourse beyond hunkering down and fortifying their frontiers.
"So, that is where things stand," Pope Yvangelista remarked, lifting a teacup as he sat with Jeanne inside his personal chambers. A weary, introspective expression touched his face. "We hold a temporary advantage that allows us to spearhead these talks, but no one can predict how the other factions will react once they process the news."
The stern, imposing patriarch who had commanded the grand summit hall was gone, replaced by an aging man sharing quiet reflections in his study.
Two others sat in the room: Jeanne, the Saintess of Laterano, and Agenir, the Pope's former classmate.
"Is it truly wise to share such heavy thoughts with an outsider like me?" Agenir asked casually, sipping his tea with unhurried composure. "I might never be allowed to return to Siracusa at this rate."
"You are merely an old friend enjoying a cup of tea," the Pope replied with a gentle laugh. "We are reminiscing—there are no state secrets being traded here. Besides, could a mind like yours fail to piece this together? If so, you've grown far duller than I remember!"
Pope Yvangelista spoke with effortless warmth, keeping the atmosphere relaxed and devoid of political pressure.
Agenir scanned the familiar decor of the office, remaining quiet for a long moment before offering a dry critique. "Your taste remains as bland as ever. Not a single thing has changed."
"Nor have you," the Pope countered fondly. "Looking at you, one would think you never left this city. Are you certain you spent ninety years in Siracusa?"
Jeanne sat quietly to the side, listening to the two elders trade banter without finding a single opening to chime in.
She felt a bit lost as to why she had been asked to stay. After addressing her briefly upon entering, both old men had completely absorbed themselves in each other's company. Jeanne wrestled with whether she ought to quietly excuse herself.
Still, from their conversation, she gathered that while the opening assembly had not been flawless, it had yielded a far more promising start than the Pope had dared to anticipate.
"If you have a favor to ask, speak it plainly," Agenir said, breaking the comfortable silence. "I shall be staying in the city for a while yet, so there will be plenty of time for nostalgia later. If there is nothing else, I ought to take my leave. Sitting through an all-day conference drains an old man's strength—I don't possess your boundless energy."
Setting his cup down, Agenir made as if to stand, giving his host no chance to stall him.
Seeing his old friend prepare to leave without a second thought, Pope Yvangelista smiled helplessly. Even after nine decades, Agenir refused to give him an ounce of unearned deference.
"When the next session convenes, I hope Siracusa will stand with us," Pope Yvangelista said, laying his true intention on the table.
Agenir paused, pressing a hand against his forehead with a muted sigh. He had anticipated the request all along, which was precisely why he had tried to make a swift exit.
Now that the request had been voiced directly, he could no longer brush it off with casual wit; it demanded serious deliberation.
"You certainly enjoy throwing difficult problems my way," Agenir noted, casting a dry look at the smiling Pontiff.
"I only ask because I know you well," the Pope replied gently. "And because I know your discretion. Even if you choose to refuse, you won't turn this into political leverage against us."
Watching the two, Jeanne could see the profound, unspoken trust binding the two veterans.
"Must you move so quickly?" Agenir asked, his gaze sharpening. "The first round of talks hasn't even concluded, yet you are already setting up the next phase. Are you trying to secure absolute control over this coalition?"
"It is not about rushing, but preparing for the inevitable," the Pope explained softly. "We wish to build a neutral platform where every nation can sit down and resolve disputes through dialogue. But without careful stewardship from the start, the table will inevitably be co-opted by a few great powers as their private bargaining board. Once those empires realize the platform's potential, they will move to claim it."
Pope Yvangelista understood how irresistible such influence was. It would be a miracle if the major empires sat idly by once the platform proved its worth. Laterano had to act early to safeguard the initiative's integrity.
"And Laterano isn't seeking influence?" Agenir countered calmly. "Will Laterano simply relinquish authority when the time comes? If I lend you my support, it is only to ensure you hold a seat at that table. But tell me—why shouldn't I try to claim that seat for Siracusa instead?"
Agenir saw the game clearly. This summit represented a rare opportunity for Siracusa to gain leverage on the continental stage, and as its envoy, he could not yield ground lightly.
"Regrettably, Siracusa lacks the raw weight to hold such a position," the Pope stated with pragmatic honesty, his tone lacking any malice.
The truth stung, but Agenir did not take offense. Siracusa's fragmented strength could not compete with behemoths like Yan or Ursus.
Yet, that logic applied to Laterano as well. A city-state of a single metropolitan territory possessed no more physical projection than Siracusa's twenty-two mobile cities. Neither possessed the military brute force of the great empires.
Though Laterano commanded respect through the unique nature of the Sankta and their sanctified firearms, its physical footprint remained modest.
"Laterano may struggle to hold that seat just as easily!" Agenir pointed out.
"Perhaps," the Pope conceded softly. "But Laterano will guarantee its neutrality. Our goal is not dominion, but ensuring that our people—and this entire land—survive the storm."
Hearing those words, even Agenir offered a quiet nod of respect. Laterano was indeed exhausting every resource to preserve the continent.
Still...
"Your vision is noble, but I cannot give you my word today," Agenir said, shaking his head gently. "It would be irresponsible to commit Siracusa's future over a single private conversation. I must weigh the consequences carefully before giving you my answer."
With that, Agenir stood up to take his leave. Jeanne could tell from his expression that he was inclined to support the initiative, but his solemn duty to his homeland stayed his hand.
"I can leave you with one observation, however," Agenir added, pausing near the doorway. "Victoria is far too consumed by its internal power struggles to meddle in continental affairs right now. Furthermore, if you drop subtle hints in the right places, you might secure some exceptionally capable allies for this war against the Seaborn. How you win them over, however, depends entirely on your own effort."
He was thinking of the weary Victorian Speaker he had met earlier. Victoria's political elite had turned entirely inward, blinded by the contest for the vacant throne.
"That is valuable insight," Pope Yvangelista replied warmly, offering a genuine bow of gratitude. "Thank you, my friend."