Inside an office apartment, a round table sat in the middle of the room.
Two people stood to the side—an agent and a secretary.
Seated at the table were three individuals: Commander Naciri, Ash, and Valker.
The commander sat in quiet contemplation for a moment before finally speaking.
Naciri: "We don't need to reevaluate how fucked we are. We all know it—you included."
He raised his head and fixed them with a stern gaze.
Naciri: "This second transition—Advheurque—how strong is he?"
He paused, then corrected himself.
Naciri: "No, wrong question. How aware is he?"
Ash and Valker both looked grim.
But it was Valker who answered.
Valker: "Quite a lot. It's like talking to any regular human who's fully self-aware."
He paused, casting a glance at Ash.
Valker: "He had… a weird interest in Ash."
Then his eyes returned to the commander.
Valker: "Other than that, he wasn't that strong. Probably because his transition had just occurred—unlike the other one."
Naciri: "I see."
He paused for a bit, choosing his words carefully.
"Our territory was already tight before. But now, with his appearance in Casablanca—and considering how close we are here in Rabat—it's not just risky, it's reckless to keep everyone packed in like this. Don't you think we should start thinking about moving them somewhere safer?"
The duo leaned forward, a tense confusion hardening their expressions. Neither of them liked what they'd just heard, but the weight of it forced them to listen. It was the kind of confusion that came not from misunderstanding — but from disbelief.
Ash: "Relocate? Relocate where? There's no safe place left. The closest territories are just other sections—and we both know how that works. So how exactly would this plan even work, commander?"
Naciri looked at him somberly, like he didn't want to say what was coming—but had no choice.
Naciri: "I know. With the neighboring sections being as territorial as they are, we can't just move freely."
He paused, his gaze heavy with hesitation, as if weighing whether the next words were worth the storm they'd bring.
Naciri: "But… What if we didn't have to stay isolated? What if—"
He took a breath, slow and deliberate.
Naciri: "—we merged with one of the other sections? If we united under one banner, we'd have the legitimacy and the protection to relocate our civilians. We'd finally have somewhere to go… somewhere safer."
For a moment, silence filled the room like a cold draft. Both Valker and Ash stared at him, stunned.
Their bodies frozen, faces unreadable.
Ash leaned a bit forward, voice sharp with alarm.
Ash: "What the hell are you saying…?"
He laughed once — bitter, incredulous.
Ash: "You're talking like one of them suddenly grew a conscience. Who the hell just flipped and decided to give a damn about our people?"
Naciri let the silence linger before finally speaking.
Naciri: "The Iberian Section. Our neighbors to the north."
Ash blinked, disbelief etched across his face.
Ash: "Iberian Section? Are you fucking kidding me? You mean the same bastards who nearly sparked a civil clash last year? The ones who took over major cities in North Africa and kicked out every last survivor of the parasite outbreaks there?"
Valker (dryly): "They must be either desperate… or very confident."
Naciri gave a slow, steady nod.
Naciri: "Their leadership's changed. New head, new philosophy—at least, that's what they're selling. They reached out quietly. Offered shared territory, joint patrols. Said it's time to stop playing kingdoms and start surviving as one species."
Ash crossed his arms, jaw tight.
Ash: "Or maybe they just want warm bodies to throw at their frontlines. Use us as bait when the next storm hits."
He locked eyes with Naciri.
Ash: "Tell me, Commander... you're not that naïve, are you?"
Naciri's expression remained calm, unreadable as he returned the stare.
Naciri (evenly): "Relax. I know better than to believe anything comes free in this world—old or new."
He paused, letting the weight of his words settle.
Naciri: "That's why I haven't accepted anything yet. But if the next wave hits like the last... we won't survive it alone."
Valker looked away, his jaw clenched.
Valker: "How many civilians are we talking about moving?"
Naciri: "Roughly 400 thousand. Scattered between the rural zones and what's left of the major cities."
Ash let out a breath, bitter and frustrated.
Ash: "If this gets out to the evolvers, our section will split in half. People are already on edge. Plenty of them don't like how we've been handling things."
Valker: "How does the Iberian Section treat its people anyway? Do they even have civilians?"
Naciri didn't answer right away. He straightened, his expression grave.
Naciri: "Their methods fall into a grey zone… maybe the darker side of it. They don't erase people outright, but if you want a place in their system, you have to apply to take your evolution procedure."
He paused, letting the weight of the sentence hang.
Naciri: "Not everyone qualifies. And those who don't... vanish into the cracks. Quietly."
A silence fell over the room.
Naciri (quietly): "So yes, I know what that looks like. It's control masked as survival. Order wrapped in fear."
Ash looked away, jaw clenched, and Valker's brow furrowed deeply, but neither spoke.