The encounter in the tunnel left Ryu deeply unsettled. It wasn't just the fear, or the sudden violence. It was the casual, almost effortless display of power. The woman from the Azure Dragons had moved with a precision that made Grak's brawling look like a child's tantrum. It was a brief, terrifying glimpse into a world he was not a part of.
Days turned into a week. The memory of the woman's sharp eyes and even sharper blade stayed with him. So did the words he'd overheard outside the restaurant: 'destabilization,' 'recruitment.' They were just sounds, but they held the weight of importance. He started listening more, paying attention to the hushed conversations in the market, the graffiti that appeared overnight on the tunnel walls. He heard whispers of a new group, one that promised power to the powerless, a way to rise above the filth. They called themselves 'The Vanguard.'
The whispers led him to a disused warehouse on the edge of the industrial sector. A recruitment meeting. The idea was insane. Groups that promised power to dust-rats were usually either scams or death traps. But the memory of his own weakness, of the foreman's sneer and the thugs in the tunnel, pushed him forward. What did he have to lose?
The warehouse was cavernous and smelled of rust and decay. A surprisingly large crowd of Outer Sector residents had gathered, their faces a mixture of hope and desperation. On a makeshift stage stood a man who commanded the room not with a booming voice, but with a calm, charismatic presence. He was well-dressed, his clothes clean and tailored—a stark contrast to his surroundings. He introduced himself as Vex.
"I see you," Vex began, his voice smooth and reassuring. "I see your struggle. You toil for scraps while the clans feast in their sky-towers. They tell you that you are worthless because you were not born with the gift of ChainForce. They are wrong."
A murmur of agreement rippled through the crowd. Vex smiled, a warm, inviting expression. "The clans hoard power. They keep it for themselves, creating a system that ensures you will always be at the bottom. But what if I told you there is another way? That power is not a gift, but a tool? A tool that can be acquired. A tool that can be wielded by anyone with the will to take it."
His words were like a balm on their collective wounds. He spoke of equality, of shattering the chains of birthright, of building a new order where strength was earned, not inherited. Ryu found himself leaning forward, captivated. This wasn't a brutish thug; this was a visionary. For the first time, someone was putting his own formless rage and despair into clear, powerful words.
Vex's rhetoric was masterful. He never named his organization, only referring to 'our cause' and 'the new dawn.' He promised training, resources, and most importantly, a chance to fight back against the system that had crushed them. There was no mention of the 'Obsidian Vanguard' by name, but Ryu felt a cold certainty that this was the group he had heard whispers of.
As the meeting concluded, potential recruits were directed to tables at the back to 'register their interest.' Ryu hesitated. It felt too good to be true. As he stood there, wrestling with his instincts, he saw a familiar face in the crowd. It was one of the thugs from the tunnel, the one whose arm had been disabled by the Azure Dragon warrior. He was talking animatedly with a recruiter, his face full of fervor. Then, Ryu saw another figure near the stage, half-hidden in the shadows, speaking quietly with Vex. A man in the uniform of a sector security officer—the very people meant to be policing illicit gatherings like this.
Suddenly, the pieces clicked together in a terrifying way. This wasn't just a rebellion. It was an infiltration. The Vanguard wasn't just recruiting the desperate; they were working with the corrupt elements of the system itself. This was something far more complex and dangerous than a simple gang. A cold dread washed over Ryu, more chilling than any fear he'd felt in the arena. He backed away slowly, melting into the crowd and slipping out of the warehouse before anyone could notice him. He now knew a secret he was never meant to know.