The clouds above Kanzan Isle rumbled like drums of war. Beneath them, six ships approached, each flying the banner of a hidden society. Not as enemies. Not as allies.
But as watchers of fate.
The Summit Begins
In a colossal stone amphitheater, surrounded by relics of a world long forgotten, each society took their place.
Toma, fierce in crimson.
Mombasa Mabas, silent in black stone armor.
Obsidian Fang, draped in shadows.
Rensari Dawn, glowing faintly with celestial blue.
Vaelzahn Sect, masked, their strings trailing like web.
Seventh Vein, cloaked in red silk, unsettlingly still.
Korir stood behind Sefu, eyes darting from figure to figure. Novick leaned against a column, smirking. Plelk (If) adjusted his gloves, already calculating every detail.
Then came the Council—the six owners. Not just leaders. Beasts in human skin. Gods behind mortal masks.
One stepped forward. He wore a jagged, cracked crown—Thorne, owner of Mombasa Mabas.
"This summit was called not for alliance," he said, voice like rumbling granite, "but for foresight. A shadow approaches. A rebellion brews. We feel it."
His eyes fell on Korir.
"And the one who sparked it… is here."
Gasps. The crowd shifted.
Korir flinched, stepping back. "Me?"
Sefu didn't move. "Stand tall. This is part of the game."
Then came the voice that silenced even Thorne.
"Let the boy speak."
It came from the center—the one wearing a cloak of shifting obsidian flame. Zero.
He had arrived unseen.
But different.
He wasn't a Toma member. Nor a Mombasa ghost.
He stood as the owner of Obsidian Fang.
Korir's breath stopped. He couldn't speak.
Zero smiled faintly. "I once knew a boy who fought blindly, with nothing but rage in his hands… now he's standing before kings."
Beric leaned forward from Mombasa's side. "He killed Leo. Without awakening. That is not skill. That was luck."
Zero's eyes narrowed. "Yet none of your troops ever returned alive."
After the Summit
Sefu pulled Korir aside.
"You see now… this isn't about ranks. This is a battlefield of legacies. You made waves, kid."
Plelk approached. "There's a mission."
"A covert strike on an emerging cult trying to form a seventh hidden society without approval," Novick added.
Korir looked up.
"What's it called?"
They exchanged glances.
"Eclipse Crown."
In the shadows, Zero walked alone, flames flickering from his coat.
"I'll keep watching," he whispered. "Until the day you surpass me."