On the upper floor of the headquarters, while the night wrapped around the city of Reloy like a heavy black shroud, the Blue Bird team gathered around a long table covered in maps and files.
The windows were shut, curtains drawn, and the sound of the wind outside served as a reminder: the world would not wait for them to catch their breath.
Roy stood at the head of the table, his eyes fixed on a red circle drawn in dry ink on an old map—marking what was believed to be the entry point for the upcoming competition.
He spoke in his usual calm voice:
"The time is near… We'll need new identities, new stories, and names that can die without being mourned."
Jane flipped through a file bearing the seal of the Phoenix Sect and said without looking up:
"Each faction will send their strongest. They're not just fighting to win, they're fighting to rule."
Caen sat in silence, sharpening his blade, sparks flickering in his eyes.
"We'll need more than weapons this time," he finally said.
William watched them all, saying nothing.
Inside him, a fire burned that no one could see.
He wasn't just thinking about the competition—he was thinking about the ancient king… the eyes that saw him and knew him… the name that had not been spoken, but was carved into his soul.
Roy broke the silence:
"William… You'll lead the first team. You'll be our face in the competition. But you won't go as William."
William slowly lifted his head, his gaze piercing through the dim light of the room.
"Then who will I be?"
Roy offered a faint, unreadable smile.
"You'll be one of them… but you'll still be us."
**
In the corner, behind the others, sat one of the rescued children—
the same boy who had once asked Caen if they were free.
Now, he held a small dagger in his hands, staring at it like it held the whole world.
One of the men overheard him whisper to himself:
"If they come for us again… I'll be the one to surprise them."