As soon as Viola Ren stepped fully into the situation, everything changed. Not because people suddenly saw her as a leader they didn't. It was because her power was simply too overwhelming to challenge. One casual wave of her hand sent a group of aggressive survivors flying into the far wall without her even looking at them. The terminal fell into stunned silence. No one dared test her.
Viola's inner flux reserves were unnaturally higher than anyone else's bottomless compared to the fledgling levels around her. Gunjan Aether, standing protectively near Vanya, felt a chill. She herself still had no system access, no inner flux, no mark on her cheek. For some unknown reason, the Universal Will had completely ignored her. Gunjan suspected Viola knew why, but the power difference was too vast to push.
Viola adjusted her specs again, scanning the terrified crowd with cool detachment. "Stop wasting energy fighting each other," she said, voice carrying effortlessly. "The real threats are outside. Save your flux for them."
A burly man who had been hoarding water bottles stepped forward, trying to assert dominance. "Who the hell are you to order us around?"
Viola didn't even glance at him. A simple flick of her wrist and invisible force slammed him to the ground. "I don't order. I state facts. Listen or die. Your choice."
The crowd quieted. Pride radiated from Viola like an aura—she made decisions unilaterally, often without consulting anyone, and some choices seemed shortsighted for actual leadership. She declared they would hold the terminal until "the first wave passes," ignoring suggestions to move to more defensible positions deeper in the airport. Yet her raw power made resistance suicidal.
Vanya, still shaken but recovering, touched her cheek mark and focused on the system window. Her eyes widened as she discreetly checked Viola. "Level 92 out of 100," she whispered to Gunjan. "Her inner flux is also listed as 'emperor Class.' She's… terrifying."
Gunjan nodded grimly, suspicion clear in her eyes. She didn't trust this woman. Viola knew too much—about the purge, the system, the monsters. But challenging her now would get them all killed.
As night deepened into the next day, people settled into uneasy groups. Viola moved among them with casual authority, answering questions while making it clear she owed no one explanations.
A young survivor approached her hesitantly. "How do you know all this? The system, the waves, everything?"
Viola adjusted her specs, a small proud smile on her lips. "I've seen this before. This one is… amateur compared to some. Focus on surviving the next twenty-four hours. Your levels will rise naturally if you stop wasting flux on each other."
Another man, still bleeding from earlier fighting, asked, "Can we trust the system? It says killing gives experience."
"Trust what keeps you alive," Viola replied flatly. "The rest is noise."
Gunjan and Vanya sat a little apart, listening. Vanya whispered, "She talks like she's above all this. Like we're… temporary."
Gunjan's jaw tightened. "She knows more than she's saying. I don't like it. But right now, we need her strength."
Viola eventually sat near them, as if sensing their wariness. She looked at Gunjan directly. "You have no mark. No flux. Interesting. The 'Will' rejected you for some reason."
Gunjan met her gaze steadily, refusing to show fear. "And you seem very comfortable with all of this destruction."
Viola shrugged, pride evident. "Comfort comes from understanding. I've watched it before. This one is messy, but survivable if people stop being idiots." She glanced at Vanya. "Your Emperor Class flux is rare for a beginner. Use it wisely. Don't waste it playing hero."
Vanya nodded slowly, still processing. "You're level 92. How… how long have you had the system?"
"Long enough," Viola said, a hint of arrogance in her tone. She made no effort to explain further, simply deciding the conversation was over by turning her attention elsewhere.
Throughout the day and into the next evening, small talks continued in pockets. Survivors shared stories of loved ones lost, asked about perks, and argued over remaining supplies. Viola intervened only when violence threatened her declared "holding pattern," casually suppressing fights with minimal effort. Her decisions weren't always wise—she refused to organize proper watches, claiming "strong individuals handle threats better than groups"—but no one argued. Her power silenced dissent.
Gunjan and Vanya spoke quietly during lulls. "She could help more," Gunjan muttered. "But she won't. It's all about her own path."
Vanya touched her mark again. "Her stats are insane. But she seems… lonely. Like she's done this too many times."
As evening approached the next day, the terminal remained tense but stable under Viola's overwhelming presence. Outside, monsters still prowled, but inside, a fragile, fearful order had been imposed. Gunjan watched Viola closely, suspicion and reluctant reliance warring inside her. The woman clearly knew far more than she let on and Gunjan intended to find out why, when the immediate danger passed.