The screens flickered to life as the leaders of the 4 Sub-Basin Arcologies came online. Their faces filled the display, heavy with an immediate, suffocating tension that settled over the room.
One of the leaders leaned forward, eyes fixed on the feed. "Confirm it. Is the tragedy of the blue-graded titan attack true?"
The secretary from hole-city three stood before the console. Her jaw set tight as she looked at the monitors.
"It's true," she confirmed. "The attack happened."
A heavy silence held the line before another leader spoke up, voice sharp on the audio receiver. "And the report on the awakeners—did they truly hold aether for longer than twenty minutes on average?"
The secretary met the gaze on the screen and gave a firm nod.
"Confirmed," she said. "They held it for longer than twenty minutes on average."
The secretary pulled up the stats for the awakeners.
"The lowest duration was thirty minutes," she stated, "excluding those who died."
She adjusted the data on the screen. "That lowest baseline belongs to the wealthy kids. They managed to leave the danger zone on time, suffering the lowest casualties."
She shifted to the next group. "The awakeners who got on the elevators held out for one hour to one hour and twenty minutes. Meanwhile, the ones who escaped to the settlement logged two hours to two hours and thirty minutes."
The numbers hung in the air. Slowly, every eye in the room shifted away from the board and turned toward the strongest awakener, searching his face to gauge his reaction.
Rayn sat slouched in his chair, his expression completely aloof. He didn't bother looking up at the board; his own awakening time: 2 hours, 59 minutes, 20 seconds.
Lily, ranked as the fifth strongest awakener, crossed her arms and stared at the display before glancing sideways at him. A dry, provocative smirk touched her lips.
"Enjoy that seat while you can, Rayn," Lily said, her voice carrying across the quiet room. "Looking at these numbers, they might actually be a threat to that top position sooner than you think."
Rayn didn't even shift his posture. Not even a glance in her direction. His head slid slightly back against the headrest, his breathing leveling out into a slow, rhythmic pattern as his eyelids drooped, almost starting to doze off right in front of them.
A sharp twitch cut across Lily's jaw. A thick blue vein popped at her temple, throbbing against her skin as her hands balled into tight, white-knuckled fists. The smirk vanished completely.
With a stiff, furious exhale, she snapped her face away from him, staring straight at the wall ahead and ignoring him.
An awkward stillness blanketed the command hub. For several long seconds, no one spoke, until a line on the central monitor flickered to life.
"Look at the data," a general from a different hole-city broke in, his harsh voice slicing through the silence. "These new awakeners are a living hazard. Left unchecked, the raw threat they possess is a liability. We need Absolute control."
From the opposite end of the terminal, another delegate leaned directly into the optical lens.
"Control? You're talking about putting collars on the only edge we have left!" the delegate snapped back. "These individuals represent the sole genuine hope for humanity's survival. Tying their hands with military protocols or using underhanded methods to keep them in check before they even understand their own output is sheer suicide."
In an instant, the comms erupted. Arguments flared across the digital array as the room shattered into heated debate over how to handle the rising generation of awakeners. Shouted proposals clashed over spatial limits, mandatory enlistment, and field autonomy.
Within minutes, the room divided into three distinct fronts: some iron-handed military generals demanding strict military containment, the opposition advocating for total freedom to let the awakeners develop naturally, and the quiet, silent block in the middle—the neutral faction, watching the clash with arms crossed, refusing to align with either side until the dust settled.
Rayn leaned back in his seat
"No," Rayn said, his voice flat, cutting straight through the debate. "We do not control them."
The entire meeting plunged into an abrupt, suffocating silence. Fear settled over the delegates.
Every leader on the line knew the history behind that cold refusal. Rayn had once been on the receiving end of state control. Years ago, when the hardened faction held total authority, they had seized his family under the banner of military regulation. It had taken a desperate, high-stakes intervention by the lenient faction to finally break the siege, securing the release of his parents and sister.
In exchange for their freedom, Rayn had handed over an architectural blueprint that reduced the Titan and horde assault frequencies across all hole-cities.
Before that exchange, the hardened faction had been the sole, unquestioned voice governing the cities. Rayn's intervention broke their absolute grip. It was his blood and defiance that forced the lenient faction into equal standing.
A politician from the neutral faction leaned forward, the dull hum of his screen cutting through the tension. "Assign them to established squads," he proposed, his voice smooth, unbothered by the weight of the words. "Let them learn on the frontlines. Those who survive, survive."
The room plunged into an immediate, heavy silence.
No one spoke, but the unspoken truth hung thick in the air. Everyone present recognized the proposal for what it was: a calculated method to cull the weak among the new awakeners before they could become a problem. Yet, despite the underlying cruelty, not a single delegate could deny the raw, practical usefulness of the strategy.
"Take it a step further," another voice chimed in from the secondary console. "Rotate them across all four Sub-Basins. To destroy any sense of collective identity they might have formed going through the same ordeal."
Rayn shifted in his seat. The ambient noise of the comms faded instantly as he raised his eyes.
"I'll handle giving the awakeners their soul stone to the new awakeners myself," Rayn said, his tone flat and non-negotiable.
The main terminal went dark, and the meeting ended.