"I have to say," Karl muttered with visible pain on his face, "these contracts are ridiculously expensive."
The old ranger stared at the system notification showing the nearly seventeen thousand points he had just spent on absolute loyalty contracts.
Even after receiving repayment from the government and earning additional rewards from the trial, spending that many points at once still hurt his soul.
To Karl, it felt like watching years of hard-earned savings disappear into thin air.
"Yes, but they're worth every point," Dennis replied calmly while signing his own contract.
The parchment-like document glowed softly the moment his name appeared upon it, before slowly dissolving into countless streams of light that sank into his body.
Unlike normal paper, the contracts did not burn or tear apart after completion.
They simply merged with the person themselves, becoming something tied directly to the soul.
Arin watched the process carefully while signing his own agreement.
The contract itself was surprisingly simple in wording, yet the meaning behind it carried terrifying weight.
By signing, he pledged loyalty to the clan and agreed never to intentionally or unintentionally reveal information that could endanger the Crimson Sun faction or its members.
The moment the contract dissolved into light, Arin felt a strange warmth spread through his chest before vanishing completely.
"Still," Arin said thoughtfully while flexing his fingers afterward, "these don't actually stop someone from trying to rise to power, right?"
He looked toward Karl curiously.
"If someone ambitious wanted influence inside the clan, the contract wouldn't stop them as long as they technically believed their actions would help the faction."
That seemed like a dangerous loophole to him.
"No, you're correct," Dennis answered before Karl could speak.
"The contracts don't prevent internal competition or political struggles."
He tapped the side of his chair thoughtfully before continuing.
"They only activate if both the system and the person themselves recognize that their actions are genuinely harmful to the clan."
"In a way, that's actually healthier," Dennis continued.
"If the contracts completely removed ambition, initiative, or disagreement, the clan would stagnate."
He smiled faintly while watching the last traces of light disappear from his contract.
"The system clearly wants factions to remain alive and adaptive instead of becoming mindless cults."
"It really is ingenious when you think about it," Karl admitted while rubbing his beard thoughtfully.
"These things are apparently connected to that cultural energy the avatar kept talking about."
He leaned back in his chair with growing admiration.
"Instead of blindly enforcing obedience, the contracts practically let the clan itself judge intent."
"But Grandpa…" Tilly asked while tilting her head innocently.
"Do you actually understand anything you just said?"
Her blunt question instantly caused several people nearby to burst into laughter.
Karl looked personally attacked.
"To be honest?" Karl admitted after coughing awkwardly.
"No. Not really."
More laughter immediately followed.
Even Annemiek shook her head helplessly at her husband's shameless confidence.
"But," Karl continued proudly while raising a finger dramatically, "based on the system's explanation, I imagine it like this: all of us constantly produce that cultural energy together."
He gestured around the room as if explaining a profound revelation.
"So in a way, it's almost like we're all subconsciously watching over one another."
"And because leaders carry more responsibility, their intentions naturally hold more weight."
Teun stared at his father with complete exhaustion.
"Dad," he sighed deeply, "please stop pretending you understand magical soul mechanics."
The younger man pinched the bridge of his nose in surrender.
"You sound like someone spreading conspiracy theories online."
Karl ignored him instantly.
"Doesn't matter," he declared confidently.
"Everyone signed already, so let's move on and watch the ceremony."
His shamelessness was honestly impressive.
Tom, meanwhile, was trying to sign his contract while simultaneously posing dramatically like a movie star.
Unfortunately for him, the glowing parchment dissolved halfway through his attempt, ruining the effect entirely.
Nobody had the heart to tell him he looked ridiculous.
Mostly because they were too busy laughing already.
"But why exactly did we all need these again?" Tom asked afterward while pretending his dignity remained intact.
Karl immediately answered with a gentle smile that somehow looked both caring and deeply serious at the same time.
"We did this to protect the clan…" he began quietly.
"And to protect all of you."
The atmosphere shifted slightly after that.
Karl's expression lost much of its usual humor as he leaned forward in his chair.
"As you all know," he continued, "many factions in history collapsed because of spies."
"And just as many died because some idiot got drunk and started talking too much."
Several older members nodded grimly.
That had happened countless times, according to their own records.
People underestimated how dangerous information leaks could become when survival itself depended on secrecy.
Entire groups had vanished because of careless mistakes.
"Now," Karl said while tapping the armrest beside him, "you no longer need to constantly fear saying the wrong thing accidentally."
The old ranger's tone became much sharper afterward.
"But if you suddenly freeze up while speaking…"
"Then immediately become alert because someone may be trying to manipulate you into revealing something dangerous."
That warning immediately sobered the room.
Even the younger members looked uneasy afterward.
The contracts were reassuring, but the reminder that hostile influence and manipulation apparently existed within the wider universe was deeply unsettling.
The system truly operated on terrifying scales.
Once everyone finished signing, a glowing doorway appeared near the far wall of the lodge.
Without hesitation, Karl stood up and motioned for everyone to follow him.
"Come on," he said firmly.
"Let's go watch the founding ceremony."
The moment they stepped through the doorway, the world around them shifted instantly.
Arin barely had time to blink before the hunting lodge disappeared completely.
In its place rose massive marble halls, towering pillars, and rows upon rows of balconies overlooking an enormous chamber.
The entire family had been teleported directly into the European Parliament building.
"Whoa!" Tilly shouted excitedly while running toward the balcony railing.
"Grandpa, this is amazing!"
Her eyes sparkled with excitement as she looked around the enormous chamber below them.
"We only ever see this place on television!"
Karl himself looked genuinely impressed as he sat down in the front row of their balcony section.
"Yes, very impressive…" he admitted slowly.
"But why are we the only ones here?"
That question immediately drew everyone's attention.
Indeed, despite the sheer size of the parliament chamber, their balcony remained completely isolated.
No other groups or factions could be seen nearby.
Only the Sonneberg family occupied this section.
Teun sat down behind his father while thinking aloud.
"Don't worry too much, Dad," he said calmly.
"I think every faction probably has its own separate viewing area."
"Otherwise there'd never be enough room for everyone in the EU."
He pointed toward the massive chamber below thoughtfully.
"And if people were just going to watch this on television anyway, the system could've simply returned us to Earth first."
"So separating everyone like this makes the most sense."
Karl slowly nodded after hearing that explanation.
"Perhaps you're right," he admitted before leaning back comfortably into his seat.
The family gradually settled down as well while waiting for the proceedings to officially begin.
At first, the atmosphere remained tense with anticipation.
But that tension did not survive the next two hours.
The ceremony quickly devolved into an endless parade of speeches, appointments, formal recognitions, oath-taking, and bureaucratic procedures.
Apparently reorganizing humanity under the system required far more administration than anyone had expected.
Even Karl eventually began looking tired.
Meanwhile, the younger generation was dying from boredom.
One by one, nearly everyone under twenty years old fell asleep in their chairs.
Some curled up against siblings.
Others leaned against parents or sprawled across couches without dignity.
Only two members of the younger generation stubbornly remained awake.
Arin stayed awake because he kept hoping something exciting would happen.
Surely a massive political restructuring involving factions, nations, and ancient families would eventually produce some kind of dramatic conflict.
Perhaps an assassination attempt.
Or at least a shouting match.
Tilly, meanwhile, remained awake for an entirely different reason.
She simply wanted to beat her brother at something for once.
That determination alone carried her through nearly two full hours of political speeches.
Though barely.
The young girl sat upright in her chair while repeatedly yawning and pinching her own cheeks to stay conscious.
Her eyelids drooped lower every few minutes before she violently shook herself awake again.
It was honestly impressive.
And deeply adorable.
"Grandpa," Arin eventually whispered with visible disappointment, "why hasn't there been a coup or something yet?"
Karl blinked slowly at the question.
"A coup?"
"Yes," Arin continued while gesturing vaguely toward the chamber below.
"This feels like the perfect opportunity," Arin explained quietly.
"There are powerful families, weakened governments, massive confusion, and the entire world changing."
He frowned toward the politicians below them.
"So why isn't someone trying to take over?"
Karl immediately smiled at the naive question.
"That's because you misunderstand old power structures," he replied patiently.
"The truly ancient families stopped chasing flashy takeovers centuries ago."
His expression turned far more serious afterward.
"Conquering territory is easy," Karl said quietly.
"Keeping it is the difficult part."
He rested his chin against one hand thoughtfully.
"Ancient houses learned long ago that unstable expansion only creates endless rebellions, rivalries, and wasted resources."
"With modern technology," Karl continued, "it would still take centuries to completely pacify a hostile region."
"And back in ancient times? It was even worse."
He shook his head slowly.
"So old families stopped caring about rapid domination."
"What they want now is stability," Karl explained.
"Long-term influence."
"They slowly weave themselves into governments, economies, militaries, and culture over generations."
"That way their power becomes permanent instead of temporary."
"The age of instant conquest disappeared a very long time ago," Karl finished softly.
Then he turned slightly, intending to continue the discussion further.
Only to immediately stop speaking.
Because both Arin and Tilly had fallen asleep mid-conversation.
Arin sat slumped sideways in his chair with crossed arms and a deeply unimpressed expression frozen on his sleeping face.
Meanwhile, Tilly had finally lost her battle against exhaustion and collapsed against the armrest beside him.
Karl stared at the two sleeping grandchildren quietly for several moments.
Then he smiled weakly.
"They made it this far at least," he muttered softly while rubbing an old scar along his wrist.
Annemiek gently placed her hand atop his thigh after hearing that.
No words were exchanged between them afterward.
None were needed.
Because after eleven months of war, terror, and uncertainty…
Their grandchildren were alive.
Sleeping peacefully beside them in the middle of the most boring political event imaginable.
And honestly, there were far worse endings than that.