Northern Continent — The Ironclad Warden
A massive Sovereign stood alone in the cold hall, armor dented, knuckles scarred from decades of battle.
The arena broadcast flickered across the wall-sized crystal in front of him, Solace throwing guards, defying a king, lifting children as if they weighed nothing.
He exhaled, amused, and gave a slow nod.
"Good," he muttered, wiping sweat from his jaw. "It's about damn time someone shook the world."
He sheathed his sword and called for his second-in-command.
"Double the drills. If this girl's starting a storm... I'm not getting left behind."
Western Continent — The War Apostle
A towering man sat perfectly still on a stone seat, sword laid across his knees. Every scar on his body was earned through merciless training, war after war, campaign after campaign.
Solace appeared on the broadcast, jumping, striking, defying.
His expression didn't change, but his grip on the sword tightened.
He stood slowly, lifting the massive blade with one arm.
"A woman?" he scoffed. "Changing the world?"
He rested the sword against his shoulder, eyes narrowing.
"No woman will be the symbol of this age," he said coldly.
He turned toward the exit.
"If the world thinks she'll lead... I'll put an end to that delusion myself."
He left the hall with the confidence of a man who had never been tested—and never expected to be.
Southern Continent — The Graves Crew
Deep in the sun-burnt training yard, iron clanged, sand kicked up, and weights thudded into the dirt with brutal rhythm.
Jumpman wiped sweat from his brow, glancing at the broadcast crystal hanging crooked from a rusted beam.
He froze.
Solace filled the screen, defying a king, throwing guards like dolls, kids flying behind.
Jumpman blinked twice.
"...Yo, 50-50," he called, voice half-laughing, half-shocked. "You're gonna want to see this."
Across the yard, 50-50 stood with his back to everyone, inspecting the massive curling barbell resting against a training post. He wasn't lifting it or using it, just checking the grip like a man examining his favorite weapon.
The 225 lb curling barbell wasn't for workouts. It was his weapon, perfect for smashing, hooking, swinging.
He dragged it up with one hand and tossed it casually over his shoulder like it weighed nothing.
"Better not be another fake 'prodigy,'" he muttered.
Jumpman tilted the crystal toward him.
50-50 glanced. Stopped. Lowered the bar slowly.
"...Huh?" he exhaled, a grin creeping across his face. "I think I just found my next target."
50-50 stepped toward the screen, eyes locked on Solace like a predator spotting something interesting for the first time in years.
He cracked his neck.
"Jumpman," 50-50 said, voice buzzing with excitement, "get everyone ready."
Jumpman cracked his knuckles. "Finally!!!"
50-50's grin widened, dangerous, eager, thrilled.
"We're gonna show her," he said, "what a real crew can do."
Around them, the rest of the Graves Crew stopped lifting, stopped sparring, stopped betting, every head turning toward their leader.
they were preparing for fun.
And Solace had just become their next challenge.
Eastern Continent — The Merchant King
The merchant king sat behind a mountain of gold bars, staring at Solace on the crystal screen.
He laughed, a sharp, greedy sound.
"Oh, the chaos... the markets are going to dance for me."
He snapped his fingers for his advisors.
"Find her. Support her. Invest in her story."
His grin widened.
"And when the world crowns her a hero, we'll already be holding her legend in our hands."
Level Two — Government Archives, Deep Sector
The door creaked open.
A man in a dark gray uniform, sharp jaw, stepped inside the dim operations room. The lights stayed low, humming over an endless wall of case files and surveillance crystals.
A junior analyst rushed to him, pale.
"Sir... Level One has failed."
He didn't flinch.
"They always do," he muttered. "Show me the incident."
The analyst handed him a file marked
SOLACE — PINNACLE ANOMALY
Status: Unknown Threat Class
The man flipped it open.
A still image of Solace mid-jump. Density shift visible. Crown Guards collapsing around her. Joel unconscious. Marcin off-balance. Slaves airborne, being rescued.
His eyes narrowed.
"...She's a woman," he said quietly, not dismissively but calculating, like he was adjusting a mental equation. "It's been a while."
He closed the folder with a snap.
"Start a full report on her. And her crew."
The analyst hesitated.
"Should I classify her under the Hybrid file? Or the Sovereign—?"
The man cut him off without looking up.
"I don't care if she's Hybrid, Sovereign, or a damn barn animal," he said, voice flat. "If there's even a chance she's a Hybrid, you treat it seriously. She's a threat. Treat her like one."
He turned away, cloak shifting like a shadow.
"And threats are what I handle."
He walked toward the sealed doors.
"And for her to take down Cross-Kingdom DOPO..." He allowed himself a thin, dangerous smile. "...I suppose I should be impressed."
The door slid open.
"Activate Level Two Response Unit," he ordered. "Let's see if the world remembers what real enforcement looks like."
The door sealed behind him.
Back in Asteria
Solace hit the ground hard after her jump, way harder than she expected.
Her knees buckled. Her vision blurred at the edges. She'd taken hits before. But whatever the second guy's power was, his punches weren't normal.
Her ribs throbbed. Her forearm tingled. Her stomach felt hot and cold at the same time.
Solace pressed a hand to her side and exhaled.
Why did that hurt so bad...?
What the hell was he using?
Another wave of dizziness washed over her.
She staggered through some brush, found a low patch of bushes, and dropped to her knees. Just for a minute. Just to breathe.
Her head hit the dirt.
And she didn't get back up.
Time blurred. Minutes. Maybe hours. Silence. Cold. The forest shifting around an unconscious body.
A faint sway.
A steady pace.
A shoulder digging gently into her stomach.
Solace cracked her eyes open.
All she could see was... shoes.
Arlenna's shoes.
Heavy black northern boots, muddy from walking.
A thick camp blanket was wrapped tightly around Solace's body, Arlenna's workaround so she could carry her without touching her directly.
Solace didn't even lift her head, she just whispered something that didn't come out right and slipped back into unconsciousness.
Soft heat washed over her.
The weighted blanket pressed comfort into her shoulders.
A quiet fire snapped in the corner of the shelter.
A makeshift shelter, fabric stretched over branches, clearly Thiago's work. He'd overbuilt it on purpose. It could hold a storm.
Solace's hand twitched. Her breath quickened.
She sat up fast
Arlenna was instantly there.
"Hey. Hey. Relax. Relax." She held up both hands, palms out. "Everything's fine."
Solace blinked hard, disoriented and hurting.
"What... What happened to the kids?"
Arlenna exhaled softly.
"We got most of them home."
Solace stared.
Arlenna continued.
"Thiago took half. I took half. We split up the routes. The last two? They live way on the far side of the Northern continent. I've never even heard of their village."
She sat beside Solace, letting her settle.
"We were gonna take them ourselves... but I couldn't find you," Arlenna said quietly. "You always crash hard after using too much energy. And after a fight like that... I couldn't imagine how drained you were."
Solace looked up at her, throat tight.
"...You came back for me?"
Arlenna shrugged like it was obvious.
"Of course I did."
Solace's eyes softened.
"...Thank you."
Solace's eyes dropped to the sleeping shapes wrapped near the fire, two small kids curled together.
Arlenna lowered her voice.
"Thiago's knocked out too. Been building camps, scouting ahead, running from DOPO patrols... we're low on supplies. They're still searching for us."
Solace's chest tightened. She tried to sit straighter, but a sharp pain forced her back down.
Arlenna immediately steadied her.
"You're hurt worse than you thought," Arlenna said quietly.
Solace didn't argue.
Arlenna rubbed her forehead with two fingers.
"We were thinking..."
She hesitated.
"...there's a kingdom close by."
Solace looked up.
Arlenna nodded.
"The kids said the nearest safe place is something called Frostpeak Dwelling. Good reputation. Quiet. Peaceful. We only need a place to hide, rest, maybe restock. Nothing more."
Solace breathed out slowly, pain and exhaustion making her voice small.
"And DOPO?"
Arlenna rolled her eyes.
"They're everywhere."
She looked Solace dead in the eye.
"We need a plan. We can't run forever. And we can't get these kids home without help."
Solace lay back down, staring at the top of the makeshift shelter.
Frostpeak Dwelling.
A name the kids whispered when Arlenna carried them.
A place they've heard of but never seen.
Just a direction on a map they don't have.
A place Solace had no idea would introduce them to someone who'd shape their future forever.