Command Centre, Celestia.
Lewyin Adams, a young tall man with oxblood coloured hair and green eyes clad in a black long sleeve, leaned back in his chair, going through a mountain of paperwork.
Then he sighed and started going through his phone, when a faint knock at his door caught his attention.
"Come in," Lewyin said, squinting at the door, then widened his eyes.
It was the Executive Officer Weber had fought, but this time, they weren't in their armor but in a black shirt and jeans.
His brown eyes were dull and his hair scattered.
Lewyin stiffened, seeing the Executive Officer in such a state.
"Have a seat, Executive Officer. What's the situation?" Lewyin said, gesturing to the chair across his desk.
The officer sat down with a solemn expression and just stared at the ground without saying a word.
"Officer, I think I told you to report," Lewyin said, impatience seeping into his voice.
Lewyin often feigned humility, but being the Captain of Celestia, he enjoyed being a demigod deep down—knowing that if he chose to step down, the country would lose the endless war.
Which is why the country held him in high regard, especially the government that worked closely with him.
"Lewyin," the officer began without meeting the Captain's eyes, "I'm not sure if we should continue this war..."
Captain Lewyin was set aback upon hearing those words.
"Officer—Stanford. What's wrong with you? Do you know it's unpatriotic to say such?" Lewyin said.
Then Stanford met Lewyin's eyes, and Lewyin withdrew in his chair from the unsettling feeling Stanford gave off, especially the full and mad look in his eyes, which was unusual.
As Stanford was the Executive Officer of Lewyin, he always emanated a powerful aura and was a user of mana that made Executive Officers of other countries worried upon hearing his name.
But today, for a reason unknown to Lewyin, Stanford was gloomy.
"Children. Families. Innocent lives. All gone. Because of us... It all needs to stop..." Stanford said in a low tone.
Lewyin clenched his fists and gritted his teeth while he sprang to his feet.
"What do you mean, you hypocrite? It was your idea that we take Fantasia's farmland! You're the one that's always eager for my commands on how to fight the enemy so I can swoop in later!" Lewyin yelled.
Stanford clenched his fists. Lewyin knew he was right. But ever since the spectres that fought him with Weber, his sense of things had been distorted.
Before Stanford could speak, Lewyin grabbed him by the collar and raised him into the air.
"If you don't say what's wrong with you, I'll remind you why I'm Captain!" Lewyin said venomously.
Stanford took in a deep breath and clenched his jaw. "Fine. But you won't believe me," he said, glaring at Lewyin.
Lewyin released his hold on him and folded his arms, grimacing.
"I encountered an army of ghosts, and they had a leader," Stanford said, sitting down and clasping his hands together, pale as he remembered the apparitions.
Lewyin held his chin and squinted at Stanford.
"I believe you," Lewyin said, and sat down, which drew a surprised look from Stanford.
"What? You believe me?" Stanford said, leaning forward, his brows furrowed.
"Yes. I'm the Captain of Celestia. I have to know that there could be many things our enemies might have that we don't know about." Lewyin stood up and looked over the peaceful city, while his troops were in a fearsome battle with Weber's country, Fantasia.
"Besides, the control of spectres... could be a lost mana art," Lewyin remarked.
"He didn't have mana essence," Stanford said, which made Lewyin turn to him.
"He made the sky black. He made ghosts appear with the slamming of his hand to the ground, and he melted my weapons with the blood of ghosts," Stanford said, tightly folding his arms.
"And those ghosts? They can read your mind. They mock and torment you mentally with uncomfortable truths until you're mad, and for physical attacks they claw at you—but you can't see them," Stanford said.
Lewyin closed his eyes and held his chin, lost in thought.
"This is all very disturbing. Why should such even be possible?"
Stanford didn't reply. He just stared into the ground, unable to forget what happened.
"So, you're telling me it's this Spectre that took you down?" Lewyin asked.
Stanford shook his head. "No. Someone used mana-absorbing technology on me, and I was still drained from the fight, so I passed out."
Lewyin sighed, crossed his arms, and leaned his back on the wall.
He was flipping the matter over in his mind, caught between feeling threatened and being downright scared.
A person without mana essence but with inhuman abilities was not something to see together.
There existed other mana arts that allowed for different things. There was the one for combat that dealt with conjuring blasts or using the power for a physical boost, which was the most common and easiest to begin.
But there were other mana arts that allowed for siphoning of mana, teleportation, and other ways that weren't possible for humans.
But they all had something in common: they needed mana to work.
But Stanford had told Lewyin of a person who could summon and control ghosts without an ounce of mana essence.
"Could he be Fantasia's secret weapon? If so, why show up now? To send a message?" Lewyin whispered to himself.
If he were the secret weapon, they would have recruited him as Captain, since Fantasia didn't have one at the moment—meaning Fantasia could lose the war instantly if Lewyin was to join the fight.
"I tried cutting him in half..." Lewyin turned to Stanford as he spoke to himself, hands shaky and his gaze lost in empty space, "the blade just went through him like a ghost."
Stanford then lowered his eyes to the ground and saw his shadow look back at him with glowing white eyes for a second, which made him stand up and take several steps back.
The disturbing part was, it wasn't like Stanford was mad. Lewyin was ashened, because he too saw the apparition, which made him skip a breath.
"This isn't possible..." Lewyin said.
Lewyin turned to Stanford, who was now in a corner darting his eyes from left to right, whipping his head around as his body shook.
Lewyin gritted his teeth and went out of his office, calling in two junior soldiers.
"Take him away. We'll talk later," Lewyin said with a sigh.
Then the soldiers held Stanford up to his feet and led him out of the room, Stanford still shuddering and whipping his head from one direction to the other.
Lewyin started pacing around his office and noticed he too was beginning to feel on edge.
Because it wasn't the PTSD
or just the ghosts that spooked him.
It was the fact that it was all true.
And he had seen it with his own eyes.