The conference room at Korean SDF Headquarters felt like the inside of a loaded gun.
No one moved. No one dared breathe too loudly.
Lukas Braun finally shattered the silence.
"Okay, we get it, Genesis might go global, but why the hell are we pretending Incheon isn't crawling with their traces? First Division should be moving already. And why are we still barred from touching anything inside Incheon borders?"
Dead quiet.
Commander Hyeon-soo Choi slowly rose.
The moment he released his aura, the air itself seemed to solidify. Even seasoned captains felt their lungs compress. Only the five division captains withstood it without flinching.
"What I am about to say does not leave this room. Ever."
His voice was low, almost gentle, yet it carried the weight of a guillotine.
"Eight years ago the public was told the South District riots were about mana-vein territory. That was the cover story."
Ji-yeon Kim (Second Division Captain) clenched her fists so hard the metal armrests groaned.
Soo-jin Lee (Third Division Captain) stared straight ahead, water mana rippling across the surface of the table like black oil.
Choi continued.
"Ten years ago a man arrived from Japan. Korean citizenship, no past, no records. We called him THAT PERSON. In two years he built an empire that could stare down the entire SDF. Rogue combatants, ex-special forces, awakened criminals—he turned them into private armies, then split them into warring cartels and let them devour each other while he pulled every string.
Dark Crocks. Right Hand Demon. Cold Drain. Black Lotus. All of them were his toys."
Min-soo Kang (First Division Captain) slammed a fist on the table, lightning crackling between his knuckles.
"We lost four division captains in those two years," he growled. "Good people. Gone."
Choi's eyes never blinked.
"We only stopped him because Incheon stepped in. Back then Incheon wasn't a port—it was a nation of monsters. Every street had fighters who could solo an SDF platoon. We begged for their help. The price? A blood contract. The SDF will never interfere in Incheon affairs again. Not investigation. Not arrest. Not even reconnaissance. Break it, and Incheon declares war on the entire country."
Dae-hyun Park (Fourth Division Captain) finally spoke, voice cold as vacuum.
"So Genesis is hiding inside the one place we're legally blinded. Perfect."
Eun-ji Choi (Fifth Division Captain) flicked her wrist. An illusion of Jae-sung Kwon's old wanted poster—face redacted, only the eyes visible—hung in the air like a ghost.
"He was locked in IRON for eight years. Released three days ago. Six Pillars now follow him. Four follow Genesis. That's ten out of ten Pillars no longer neutral. The prison seals are already cracking."
Ji-yeon Kim's voice came out ragged.
"That bastard murdered my predecessor with his bare hands. I was a lieutenant then. I still remember the smell of blood in the Second Division barracks."
Soo-jin Lee finally spoke, water mana forming tiny vortexes around his fingers.
"He's the third party. Has to be. Same playbook—sabotage evacuations, shift blame, watch the world burn while he walks away clean."
Min-soo Kang shot to his feet again.
"Then we forget the contract! Storm Incheon, drag him out—"
"No," Choi cut in, gravity pressing everyone back into their seats. "One wrong move and Incheon's beasts will glass half of Seoul before breakfast. We wait. We watch. We find legal cracks."
Lukas rubbed his temples.
"So our options are: do nothing and let Genesis crown itself a global power, or break a treaty and start a civil war we can't win."
Eun-ji's illusion shifted—showing a silent countdown timer: 11 days, 4 hours, 12 minutes.
"That's how long IRON estimates until the first seal fails completely."
Silence again.
Finally Dae-hyun Park leaned forward, telekinesis making the pens on the table orbit slowly.
"Then we don't fight fair. We find the twenty comatose Black Heart children Genesis claims to have. We find the proof that Kwon is orchestrating everything from Incheon. And we leak it to every news outlet on the planet. Force the government to void the Incheon contract themselves."
Ji-yeon gave a bitter laugh. "Public opinion versus blood oath. Good luck."
Soo-jin Lee stared at the illusion of Kwon's redacted face, water droplets freezing mid-air around him.
"If he's really back… then every drop of blood spilled eight years ago was just the prologue."
The commander sat down. The aura vanished.
"Meeting adjourned. No one speaks of this outside these walls. Prepare your divisions. We have eleven days until the world either ends… or changes forever."
As captains filed out, Ji-yeon Kim lingered, staring at the countdown.
Her whisper was barely audible. "
This time I'll be the one holding the blade.".