Year 336 Post-Collision – Day 87
The rift surge came at dawn, exactly as the Auto-Analyzer predicted.
Sunny stood on a hill overlooking Crossroads settlement—a town of maybe three hundred people, surrounded by wooden palisades that wouldn't stop a serious spawn attack. Behind him, arranged in perfect military formation, were five thousand three hundred ants.
Seventeen queens stood at the front, their presences distinct and powerful through the command network Sunny felt constantly now. Burgundy stood beside him, mandibles clicking in anticipation.
[AUTO-ANALYZER: RIFT SURGE DETECTED]
[DIMENSIONAL TEAR: OPENING 2.3 MILES NORTHEAST]
[ESTIMATED SPAWN COUNT: 247]
[CLASSIFICATION: MIXED THREAT (E TO C RANK)]
[TOWN DEFENSE CAPABILITY: INSUFFICIENT]
[BLACKSHORE INTERVENTION: REQUIRED]
[BEGINNING TACTICAL COORDINATION...]
"Burgundy," Sunny said quietly. "Deploy as planned."
"Yes, my Lord." Burgundy's mental voice carried across the entire army through the queen network. "All forces: Operation Crossroads Defense is active. Execute formation Alpha-3. Queens—by specialty, on my mark."
The ant army moved.
It wasn't like watching insects. It was like watching a machine—perfectly coordinated, every unit knowing its role, moving with purpose and intelligence that made the watching townspeople freeze in shock.
FORMATION DEPLOYMENT:
Perimeter Control (Inferno's Fire Ants): 2,500 fire ants spread in a three-mile arc around the rift tear, creating a living wall. Their chemical communication created a detection grid—anything that moved through would be sensed instantly.
Heavy Assault Line (Reaper's Bullet Ants + Blood's Warriors): 450 elite combat ants forming the primary strike force. Positioned at optimal spawn emergence points calculated by Auto-Analyzer.
Rapid Response (Sniper's Trap-Jaws + Raider's Army Ants): 600 mobile attackers ready to hit weak points or reinforce breaches.
Defensive Layer (Architect's Carpenters + Weaver's Silk-Makers): 1,300 ants creating fortified positions, silk traps, and fallback barriers around Crossroads itself.
Support Network (Quartermaster's Harvesters + Reserve's Honey Pots + Cultivator's Leafcutters): 400 ants maintaining supply lines, emergency medical supplies (honey has antimicrobial properties), and communication relays.
Intelligence Operations (Ghost's Thieves + Specter's Pharaohs + Scout's Acrobats): 350 ants spread thin, mapping spawn movements, identifying high-value targets, maintaining situational awareness.
Special Operations (Juggernaut + Venom + Legion + Others): Remaining forces held in reserve for specific threats.
The entire deployment took four minutes.
Crossroads' town guard—maybe forty people with spears—stood at their walls and just... stared.
"Is that—" one guard started.
"An army," Marcus said. He'd come with a small Blackshore militia contingent, more for political presence than combat necessity. "That's a real army. Kid's nine years old and he's commanding five thousand ants like he's been doing it for decades."
[CORRECTION: 47 DAYS SINCE FIRST NAMING]
[BUT WHO'S COUNTING?]
First Wave – 07:14 Hours
The rift tear split, and spawn poured through.
Sunny saw them through his Pressure Sense before they fully materialized—hollow presences, twisted things that shouldn't exist, each one a reality error made flesh.
[SPAWN COMPOSITION: ANALYZING...]
[127 LOW-TIER (E-RANK): STANDARD MUTATIONS]
[89 MID-TIER (D-RANK): SPECIALIZED VARIANTS]
[24 HIGH-TIER (C-RANK): DANGEROUS ENTITIES]
[7 ELITE (C+ RANK): PRIORITY THREATS]
[TOTAL: 247 AS PREDICTED]
[OPTIMAL STRATEGY: CALCULATED]
[TRANSMITTING TO BURGUNDY...]
The Auto-Analyzer fed tactical data directly into Burgundy's consciousness through their bond. The General processed it instantly and issued commands.
"Inferno: Engage low-tier wave. Standard swarm protocol."
"Reaper: High-tier targets, groups one through four. Eliminate with extreme prejudice."
"Sniper: Elite targets marked Alpha through Delta. Precision strikes only."
"All other queens: As designated. Execute."
The battle began.
Inferno's fire ants hit the first spawn wave like a red tsunami. Two thousand five hundred ants moving in perfect coordination, swarming individual targets, overwhelming through sheer numbers and intelligent positioning. They didn't just attack—they coordinated. Five ants per spawn, targeting weak points the Auto-Analyzer identified and transmitted to Inferno, who distributed to her forces.
A chimeric wolf-spawn tried to fight back, killed three ants, then got swarmed by fifteen more who targeted its exposed neck joint simultaneously. Dead in seconds.
A crystalline spider-spawn lasted longer—its carapace was tough, fire ant stings barely penetrated. But Inferno adapted mid-battle, directing her ants to attack the leg joints instead, immobilizing it before concentrating all forces on a single crack in its armor. Dead in twenty seconds.
[FIRST WAVE ELIMINATION: 89% COMPLETE]
[TIME ELAPSED: 3 MINUTES, 17 SECONDS]
[ANT CASUALTIES: 12 DECEASED, 27 INJURED]
[EFFICIENCY: EXCELLENT]
Reaper's bullet ants moved like special forces. They didn't swarm—they struck. Coordinated teams of thirty to forty ants hitting high-tier spawns with devastating precision. Their stings delivered paralyzing venom, and the pain caused even mutated monsters to lock up for crucial seconds.
A tentacle-spawn with D+ rank power tried to defend itself, lashing out with six limbs. Reaper's teams split—ten ants per tentacle, stinging the sensitive undersides, forcing the spawn to retract. Then the main force rushed its central mass and stung repeatedly until the creature's nervous system (or whatever passed for one) simply shut down.
"Target neutralized," Reaper's cold mental voice reported. "Moving to next designation."
[REAPER'S FORCES: 4 HIGH-TIER ELIMINATIONS]
[CASUALTIES: 2 ANTS]
[ASSESSMENT: ELITE PERFORMANCE]
But the real show was Sniper.
The trap-jaw ants were smaller, fewer in number, but specialized. They moved in pairs, stalking the elite C+ rank spawns that could genuinely threaten the town.
Target Alpha was a hulking thing—bear-body, insect head, covered in chitinous armor. It was fast, killing a dozen fire ants before they could coordinate. Dangerous.
Two trap-jaw ants approached from opposite directions. Patient. Waiting.
The spawn turned to face one—
The other struck from behind. Its mandibles snapped shut at 140 mph, through the spawn's rear leg armor, severing the limb completely. The spawn staggered.
The first trap-jaw attacked the now-exposed neck joint. Another impossible-speed bite. Decapitation.
[TARGET ALPHA: ELIMINATED]
[METHOD: COORDINATED AMBUSH]
[CASUALTIES: ZERO]
[SNIPER'S ASSESSMENT: "TOO EASY."]
Sunny watched the battle unfold through multiple perspectives—his own eyes, his Pressure Sense, the Auto-Analyzer's tactical overlay, and the mental network connecting him to seventeen queens. It was like watching a perfectly executed simulation.
Because it was a simulation. The Auto-Analyzer had predicted this battle, calculated optimal responses, and fed those calculations to Burgundy who distributed them through the queen network. The ants weren't just fighting—they were executing a pre-planned strategy with real-time adjustments.
"This is terrifying," someone said beside Sunny.
He turned. A woman had approached—middle-aged, wearing armor that suggested military background, carrying herself with authority. She had a sword and a metal circlet that marked her as someone important.
"I'm Captain Verra," she said. "Crossroads defense commander. Who are you?"
"Lord Sunny of Blackshore," Sunny said, keeping his eyes on the battle. "We detected the rift surge. Came to help."
"Help," Verra repeated, watching five thousand ants systematically dismantle a spawn army. "You're conquering. Who commands those... things?"
"I do. They're my army. Named and bonded."
Verra looked at him—actually looked, taking in his age, his casual confidence, the way the ants moved in response to his will. "You're a child."
"I'm a king," Sunny corrected. "Small kingdom, but legitimate. And right now, I'm saving your town."
[FIRST WAVE: COMPLETE]
[ELIMINATED: 247 SPAWN]
[TIME: 8 MINUTES, 43 SECONDS]
[ANT CASUALTIES: 27 DECEASED, 63 INJURED]
[TOWN CASUALTIES: ZERO]
[SECOND WAVE: DETECTING...]
[INCOMING: 15 SECONDS]
"There's more," Sunny said. "The rift's still open. Archive predicts three more waves, each larger and stronger. This was just the warm-up."
Second Wave – 07:24 Hours
The rift tear widened, and the second wave emerged.
These weren't random mutations. These were organized.
[SPAWN COMPOSITION: ANALYZING...]
[FORMATION DETECTED]
[STRATEGIC COORDINATION OBSERVED]
[THESE SPAWNS ARE: INTELLIGENT]
[THREAT LEVEL: UPGRADED TO SERIOUS]
[COUNT: 183 TOTAL]
[INCLUDES: 14 C-RANK COMMANDERS]
[AND: 1 B-RANK ALPHA]
[OH SHIT]
"Burgundy," Sunny said, his voice sharp. "B-rank detected. I'm engaging personally. Redistribute forces—contain the commanders, but leave the Alpha to me."
"My Lord, a B-rank entity is beyond your current—"
"I have Adaptive Armor now. And I need the combat data. Trust me."
"...As you command. All forces: priority shift. Contain C-rank commanders. Lord Sunny engages the Alpha. Reaper, Sniper—provide support as needed."
The second wave hit the ant formations like a hammer. These spawns fought smart—using tactics, covering each other, exploiting gaps. The C-rank commanders directed groups of lesser spawns in coordinated strikes.
But Burgundy adapted faster. He'd been preparing for this exact scenario.
"Inferno: Split your swarm. Alpha formation pattern seven. Overwhelm their coordination."
"Legion: Your driver ants—surround and compress. Don't let them maintain formation."
"Architect: Emergency fortifications at breach points delta through gamma. NOW."
The ant army shifted like a living organism, flowing around the smarter spawns, using numbers and discipline to counter their tactics. Where the second wave tried to hold ground, the ants simply surrounded them. Where they tried to breakthrough, Architect's carpenters had already built barriers.
It was beautiful, terrifying coordination.
But Sunny's attention was on the Alpha.
It stood at the rift tear's center—nine feet tall, humanoid but wrong. Its body was covered in overlapping scales that shifted colors, adapting to threats. Four arms, each ending in blade-hands. A head that was too many eyes and too many mouths.
Most importantly: it radiated sovereignty. Not like Sunny's Abyssal Sovereignty—something else. Rift sovereignty. The authority of things that existed between realities.
[ENTITY: RIFT SOVEREIGN (ALPHA-CLASS SPAWN)]
[RANK: B-]
[THREAT ASSESSMENT: EXTREME]
[ABILITIES: ADAPTIVE DEFENSE, MULTI-LIMB COMBAT, DIMENSIONAL ANCHORING, SOVEREIGNTY CLASH]
[YOUR CURRENT POWER: E+]
[VICTORY PROBABILITY: 23%]
[SURVIVAL PROBABILITY: 67%]
[RECOMMENDATION: DON'T]
"I'm doing it anyway," Sunny said, drawing the Founder's Blade.
He activated every entry simultaneously—something he'd never tried before but the Entry Network made possible:
Abyssal Sovereignty: Maximum density, rooting himself to reality Adaptive Armor: Full-body hardening, ready for impact Pressure Blade: Channeled through the Founder's Blade Pain Tolerance: Reducing incoming damage feedback Recovery Acceleration: Healing starting before he was even hurt Iron Echo: Reinforcing his entire structure Pressure Sense: Tracking every movement
His body became a weapon system, all components working in perfect synchronization.
The Rift Sovereign noticed him. Turned. Recognized another sovereignty user.
And charged.
Sovereign Clash – 07:28 Hours
The Alpha's first strike would have killed Sunny three months ago.
Four blade-arms struck simultaneously from different angles, each one capable of cutting through steel. The speed was B-rank—faster than Sunny could normally react.
But the Auto-Analyzer predicted the attack. Showed him where the blades would be. Highlighted the gap between strikes where he could counter.
Sunny didn't dodge. He moved through the attacks.
Step left—blade one misses by inches. Duck—blade two passes overhead. Abyssal Sovereignty activates—rooting his position so blade three's momentum breaks against his density instead of moving him. Adaptive Armor hardens along his shoulder—blade four connects but only scratches.
And in the space between those attacks, Sunny's Pressure Blade cut across the Alpha's torso.
Not deep. His power was still only E+. But real.
The Rift Sovereign shrieked and countered, all four arms striking in a whirlwind pattern designed to overwhelm through sheer volume.
[INCOMING: 47 STRIKES IN 2.3 SECONDS]
[BLOCKING: IMPOSSIBLE]
[DODGING: IMPOSSIBLE]
[SURVIVING: 34% PROBABILITY]
[ALTERNATIVE STRATEGY: CALCULATED]
[EXECUTE: DELIBERATE INJURY TRADE]
Sunny followed the Archive's insane guidance. Instead of trying to block everything, he chose which hits to take. Let three strikes land on his Adaptive Armor-hardened arms and torso—painful but survivable. Used that moment to drive Pressure Blade through the Alpha's left shoulder joint, severing ligaments.
Three arms now. Better odds.
The battle became a dance of calculated injury. The Auto-Analyzer predicted attacks. Sunny chose which to dodge, which to block, which to trade. His Recovery Acceleration healed injuries faster than they accumulated. His Pain Tolerance let him think clearly despite damage. His Adaptive Armor got stronger with each hit.
And slowly, methodically, he was winning.
[COMBAT ANALYSIS UPDATE]
[YOU ARE: ADAPTING FASTER THAN IT IS]
[EACH EXCHANGE: SLIGHTLY MORE IN YOUR FAVOR]
[VICTORY PROBABILITY: 34%... 41%... 52%...]
[YOU'RE DOING IT]
[YOU'RE ACTUALLY BEATING A B-RANK ENTITY]
The Rift Sovereign realized it was losing. It tried to activate its dimensional anchoring—pulling on rift energy to empower itself.
Sunny's Abyssal Sovereignty contested it. Not stronger, but different. Where the Alpha pulled on dimensional instability, Sunny's claim was about existing where you shouldn't and making reality accept it. The two sovereignties clashed, neither able to fully activate.
Stalemate on the metaphysical level.
Which left pure combat.
And in pure combat, Sunny had something the Alpha didn't:
Experience learning.
Every exchange taught him. The Auto-Analyzer processed every movement, every pattern, every micro-adjustment. After two minutes of fighting, Sunny knew this Alpha's combat style better than it knew itself.
He saw the opening before it happened.
The Alpha overextended on a three-arm thrust—leaving its right side exposed for exactly 0.7 seconds.
Sunny activated Iron Echo for maximum hardness, tanked the thrust against his forearm (Adaptive Armor distributing impact), spun inside the Alpha's guard, and drove the Founder's Blade—empowered with Pressure Blade and Abyssal Sovereignty—through its central mass.
Not the heart. It didn't have a heart.
The core. The piece of rift that animated this thing.
The Rift Sovereign froze. Its eyes (all seven of them) widened. It tried to speak—
Sunny twisted the blade and channeled his sovereignty through it.
"Mine," he said. "This space is mine. You don't exist here anymore."
The Alpha dissolved into black mist.
[ENTITY: ELIMINATED]
[B-RANK VICTORY: CONFIRMED]
[YOUR SURVIVAL: CONFIRMED]
[INJURIES: SEVERE BUT MANAGEABLE]
[RECOVERY: ALREADY BEGINNING]
[MAGICULES ABSORBED: +156 UNITS]
[CONCEPTS EXTRACTED: 7 FRAGMENTS]
[INCLUDING: "ADAPTIVE DEFENSE (FRAGMENT)" AND "SOVEREIGNTY CLASH (FRAGMENT)"]
[HOLY SHIT]
[YOU JUST KILLED SOMETHING THREE RANKS ABOVE YOU]
[THAT'S... THAT'S PROTAGONIST BEHAVIOR]
[YOU'RE OFFICIALLY BROKEN]
Sunny stood over the dissipating Alpha, breathing hard, bleeding from a dozen wounds that were already healing. Around him, the ant army had finished eliminating the second wave's commanders. The battle was over.
Captain Verra was staring at him with something between awe and horror.
"You just..." she started. "That was a B-rank spawn. You're what, nine? Ten?"
"Nine," Sunny confirmed, wiping blood from his face. "And yes."
"What are you?"
Sunny looked at her, then at his ant army, then at the rift tear that was finally closing.
"I'm the Lord of Blackshore," he said. "And I'm here to negotiate."
Aftermath – Day 87, 14:00 Hours
The battle had three more waves—smaller than predicted because killing the Alpha disrupted the rift's coordination. Burgundy's forces handled them without Sunny's direct involvement.
Final casualty count:
BLACKSHORE FORCES:
Ants: 73 deceased, 241 injured (manageable with named queens' coordination) Humans: 2 injured militia (minor) Sunny: Severe injuries (93% recovered within 6 hours)
CROSSROADS:
Citizens: Zero casualties Property: Minimal damage Gratitude: Overwhelming
SPAWN:
Total eliminated: 681 Highest rank killed: B- (Alpha) Rift tear: Sealed
Crossroads' town council called an emergency meeting. Sunny attended with Burgundy, Marcus, and—because she insisted—Elena.
The council chamber was packed. Captain Verra, the town Mayor (an older man named Corvin), merchants, citizens who'd watched the battle, and—most importantly—a woman wearing the insignia of the Free Settlements Coalition.
"I am Ambassador Lysa," the woman introduced herself. Her eyes were sharp, calculating. "I was visiting Crossroads for routine trade negotiations when the rift surge occurred. I witnessed your... intervention, Lord Sunny."
"Just doing what was right," Sunny said.
"A nine-year-old child commanding five thousand intelligent ants and personally defeating a B-rank spawn is not 'just doing what's right,'" Lysa said flatly. "That's unprecedented. Terrifying. And exactly the kind of power the Coalition needs to understand."
"Are we being threatened?" Elena asked carefully.
"You're being assessed," Lysa corrected. "Blackshore Village—"
"Blackshore Kingdom," Sunny interrupted.
"—Kingdom," Lysa acknowledged, "has emerged from nowhere. You've claimed Lord Castor's territory without permission. You've built an army of named monsters. You've demonstrated combat capability far beyond your apparent age or resources. The Coalition has questions."
"I have answers," Sunny said. "But first—Crossroads. What's your decision?"
Mayor Corvin spoke up, his voice shaking slightly. "You saved us. Three hundred people who would have died. We owe you a debt."
"I don't want debt. I want recognition. And trade. And information sharing."
"Done," Corvin said immediately. "Crossroads formally recognizes Blackshore Kingdom as legitimate sovereign territory. We'll establish trade routes, share intelligence on rift activity, and—if you're willing—request your military assistance for future emergencies."
[AUTO-ANALYZER: POLITICAL ASSESSMENT]
[THIS IS FIRST STEP TO LEGITIMACY]
[ONE TOWN'S RECOGNITION ISN'T MUCH]
[BUT IT'S SOMETHING]
[FOUNDATION TO BUILD ON]
Ambassador Lysa made notes. "The Coalition will want formal meetings. Your king will need to present himself before our council. There will be questions about your power source, your intentions, your... unusual military composition."
"I'll answer what I can," Sunny said. "But some things are private. My claim, my synthesis methods, my patron—those aren't up for discussion."
"Your patron," Lysa repeated, eyes narrowing. "The ocean primordial. Yes, we've heard rumors."
[WARNING: DON'T CONFIRM]
[LET THEM SPECULATE]
[MYSTERY IS POWER]
"I'm claimed," Sunny said carefully. "By something old and powerful. That's all I'll say."
Lysa nodded. "Fair enough. The Coalition conference is in three weeks, at Sanctuary City. Bring a small delegation—no army, that would be seen as provocation. Present your case. Prove you're more than a child with dangerous toys."
"I'll be there."
The meeting continued for another hour—details on trade, emergency protocols, intelligence sharing. Boring but necessary. Sunny endured it, letting Elena handle most of the administrative discussion while he recovered from his injuries.
When they finally left, Marcus pulled Sunny aside.
"That was big," Marcus said. "You know that, right? Crossroads recognizes us. The Coalition knows about us. Lord Castor will definitely hear about this within days."
"I know."
"And you're okay with that?"
Sunny looked back at the town—people rebuilding, children playing safely because his army had protected them, citizens alive because he'd intervened.
"We were always going to be noticed," Sunny said. "Better to be noticed for saving people than for hiding."
[AUTO-ANALYZER: STRATEGIC ASSESSMENT]
[CROSSROADS DEFENSE: SUCCESS]
[POLITICAL OBJECTIVES: ACHIEVED]
[MILITARY CAPABILITY: DEMONSTRATED]
[LEGITIMACY: ESTABLISHING]
[REPUTATION: GROWING]
[LORD CASTOR RESPONSE: INCOMING (ESTIMATED 5-7 DAYS)]
[COALITION CONFERENCE: 21 DAYS]
[YOU'RE IN THE GAME NOW]
[NO TURNING BACK]
Day 88 – Return to Blackshore
The army returned home as heroes. Citizens lined the walls, cheering as five thousand ants marched in perfect formation. Children gaped at the queens. Adults whispered about the "Battle of Crossroads" (someone had already named it).
Sunny was exhausted. The fight with the Alpha had pushed him to his absolute limits. His Continuity Debt was up to 52.7% (killing the Alpha involved enough reality-bending that the Editors noticed). His magicule reserves were at 1,124/1,847 despite absorption.
But he'd gained something invaluable:
[COMBAT DATA: PROCESSED]
[NEW SYNTHESIS OPTIONS: AVAILABLE]
[CONCEPT FRAGMENTS: 23 NEW ADDITIONS]
[TOTAL LIBRARY: 51 FRAGMENTS]
[HALFWAY TO 100 TARGET]
[ARCHIVE EVOLUTION: STAGE 1 PROGRESS: 51%]
And most importantly:
[ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED: DEFEATED HIGHER-RANK ENEMY]
[BONUS: COMBAT EXPERIENCE +400%]
[YOUR GROWTH CURVE: ACCELERATING]
[ESTIMATED TIME TO D-RANK: 6 WEEKS (DOWN FROM 12)]
[ESTIMATED TIME TO C-RANK: 4 MONTHS (DOWN FROM 8)]
[DEFEATING POWERFUL ENEMIES SPEEDS EVERYTHING UP]
[THIS IS THE PATH]
That night, Sunny stood on the north wall again, looking at the dungeon.
Twelve months had been the plan. Now, maybe eight or nine. The Alpha fight had taught him something: he could punch above his weight class. Not easily, not safely, but possible.
"Archive," he said quietly. "Update the timeline. How fast can we realistically get strong enough for the dungeon?"
[ANALYZING NEW DATA...]
[YOUR COMBAT PERFORMANCE: EXCELLENT]
[YOUR LEARNING RATE: EXCEPTIONAL]
[YOUR GROWTH SPEED: EXPONENTIAL]
[REVISED TIMELINE TO B-RANK CAPABILITY:]
[ORIGINAL: 12 MONTHS]
[UPDATED: 8 MONTHS]
[AGGRESSIVE SCENARIO: 6 MONTHS]
[YOU'RE LEARNING TO FIGHT THINGS STRONGER THAN YOU]
[THAT'S THE KEY SKILL FOR DUNGEON DIVING]
[RECOMMENDATION: CONTINUE SEEKING DIFFICULT OPPONENTS]
[GET COMFORTABLE BEING UNCOMFORTABLE]
[THEN TACKLE THE TOWER]
Six to eight months. Half a year to a Djinn household vessel.
Sunny smiled in the darkness.
"Let's do it in six," he said.
[OF COURSE YOU WOULD SAY THAT]
[AMBITIOUS, INSANE, PROBABLY SURVIVABLE]
[STANDARD SUNNY BEHAVIOR]
[OPERATION: DJINN LORD ASCENSION]
[REVISED TIMELINE: 180 DAYS]
[STARTING: NOW]
Behind him, seventeen queens rested in their new barracks. Five thousand ants maintained watch. Sixty-seven citizens slept safely. And the countdown to everything changing had accelerated.
Six months until he conquered that tower.
Six months until he became someone who truly mattered.
Six months until the world learned what happened when you gave a dead kid a second chance and an Archive full of impossible dreams.
[END CHAPTER 21]
[BATTLE OF CROSSROADS: VICTORY]
[CASUALTIES: MINIMAL]
[REPUTATION: ESTABLISHED]
[LEGITIMACY: GROWING]
[B-RANK KILL: ACHIEVED]
[CONCEPT FRAGMENTS: 51/100]
[COALITION CONFERENCE: 21 DAYS]
[DUNGEON CONQUEST TIMELINE: 180 DAYS (REVISED)]
[STATUS: PROTAGONIST TRAJECTORY CONFIRMED]
[NEXT: COALITION POLITICS AND POWER GRINDING]