Wilson's face turned pale as he instinctively stepped back, his leather shoes scraping harshly against the floor.
He had faced dangerous people before, but this was different. The killing intent in the room felt real, almost solid, pressing down on him until breathing itself became difficult.
"Y...you're joking, right?" Wilson forced a diplomatic smile, but his voice betrayed him.
Sol walked toward him, slow and steady, each step tightening the pressure in the room.
"Do I look like I'm joking?"
Outside, sunlight disappeared behind heavy clouds. Tokyo darkened in an instant. Wilson's eyes locked onto Sol's, crimson and unsettling, as if something alive stirred within them.
"I need to contact the President," Wilson stammered, reaching for the communicator inside his suit.
Sol appeared in front of him in the next instant.
"Tell him I'm giving him twenty four hours to prepare."
Wilson's pupils shrank. "Prepare for what?"
Sol smiled, lightly patting his shoulder. The casual gesture forced Wilson's legs to give out, dropping him to his knees.
"For war."
The invisible pressure vanished.
At that exact moment, the two agents outside forced their way in, guns raised.
"Step away from Mr. Wilson immediately!"
Sol did not even look at them. He simply snapped his fingers.
Two dull impacts echoed through the hallway.
The agents were flung backward like they had been struck by something massive, slamming into the wall before collapsing unconscious.
Wilson's lips trembled, sweat soaking through his shirt.
"You will regret this. The United States has the strongest military in the world."
Sol laughed, clearly entertained.
"That's exactly what I'm looking forward to."
He turned toward the window.
"Now leave."
Wilson staggered to his feet and rushed for the door. Just before he exited, Sol's voice stopped him again.
"Oh, and Ambassador."
Wilson froze.
"Tell your Prime Minister his time limit is also twenty four hours."
Wilson said nothing more. He fled.
By the time he stumbled out of the building, rain had already begun to fall. With shaking hands, he dialed the White House.
"Mr. President… we have a serious situation."
Inside the apartment, Sol stood by the window, watching the rain fall over Tokyo.
His psychokinesis spread across the city like an invisible net.
The CCG was mobilizing every investigator. Self-Defense Force armored units were moving into position. Warships were already approaching Tokyo Bay.
Sol smiled faintly.
"Now this is getting interesting."
Then he felt it.
A familiar presence.
Down below, standing in the rain, Arima Kishou looked up. His white hair stood out sharply against the dark sky.
Sol's lips curved slightly.
"He's quick."
Their gazes met, as if distance and walls meant nothing.
"Come up."
The words echoed directly in Arima's mind.
Moments later, the apartment door opened again.
Arima stepped inside, his IXA secured in its Quinque case.
"You're declaring war on an entire country," Arima said without hesitation.
Sol turned to face him, relaxed.
"You didn't come here just to say that."
Arima's grey eyes remained fixed on him.
"I came to confirm something."
"Go on."
"Do you really know the Washuu family's secret?"
Sol smiled.
"More than you think."
He walked closer, unbothered.
"I know about the Sunlit Garden. I know about V."
Arima's fingers tightened slightly.
"Prove it."
"The children raised in the Sunlit Garden are artificially created half humans," Sol said casually. "They're trained to become weapons, tools to eliminate threats and maintain the Washuu family's control."
For the first time, Arima's expression shifted.
"How do you know that?"
Sol opened the fridge, dropped ice into a glass, and poured water over it.
"I know even more. Like how you've suspected them for a long time, but never had proof."
Arima was silent for a moment.
"What do you want from me?"
Sol finished the drink and spun the glass lightly in his hand.
"Fight me."
He tossed the glass upward. It froze midair, held in place by invisible force.
"Give me everything you've got. That's all you can do for them anyway."
A mechanical click echoed.
Arima's Quinque activated. Three blades unfolded, glowing faint blue in the dim room.
"You know this won't harm you," Arima said, gripping the weapon tightly.
"It's not about that," Sol replied with a faint smile. "Show me your resolve."
IXA moved.
Blue arcs sliced through the air, stopping inches from Sol's throat, blocked by an unseen barrier.
Arima reacted instantly, switching forms. Projectiles shot out from multiple angles, targeting vital points.
The suspended glass shattered.
Each fragment moved with precision, intercepting every attack.
For a brief moment, Sol's reflection scattered across the fragments.
Then he vanished.
Arima felt it too late.
A finger pressed lightly against the back of his head.
"You rely too much on your Quinque."
IXA suddenly turned against him, its blades pressing toward his own throat.
"Your body should be your strongest weapon."
Lightning flashed outside, illuminating the room.
Arima released his grip.
The weapon fell.
At the same instant, he moved.
His elbow shot toward Sol's head. His knee followed toward the abdomen.
Sol did not move.
The impact echoed.
Arima's pupils shrank.
It felt like hitting solid steel. The recoil alone strained his bones.
Sol caught his wrist and twisted slightly.
Arima lost balance, but instead of falling, he rotated midair into a kick. A hidden blade extended from his boot, aimed straight for Sol's eye.
Sol did not dodge.
He took the strike head on.