Benson remained silent for a moment, unable to hide the surprise on his face.
Hope's visit alone would've been unexpected. Seeing Triumphant standing beside him made it almost unbelievable.
The last time Benson had seen him, the Seraphim had been carried out of the Third District barely clinging to life after his battle with Levi. In the aftermath of that disaster, the district had been placed under heightened security. With all three of its Seraphims incapacitated, additional Guardian units and militia forces had been deployed to reinforce Sector 7 until a proper defensive structure could be restored.
It had been a little over a month since then.
Throughout that time, Benson had received daily reports on the conditions of Reader, Brooke, and Triumphant. Reader and Brooke remained in critical condition, their recoveries progressing far more slowly than anyone had hoped. Every report carried the same uncertainty, each day becoming another battle simply to keep them alive.
Triumphant, however, had recovered at a pace that even the doctors struggled to explain.
Day after day, Triumphant's condition improved beyond every expectation until he was finally discharged earlier that week. The physicians attributed his remarkable recovery to his Adaptability, the very ability that had allowed him to survive wounds that would've claimed the lives of most Fighters. The constant strain of pushing that ability to its limits had even raised his Stardust from fifty-eight to sixty percent. It was an impressive leap, but not one that changed his standing. He was still a Tier C Seraphim.
Long before Triumphant walked into this office, Benson had already begun planning his future. Under normal circumstances, a district was entrusted to three Tier C Seraphims, while Tier Bs operated in pairs and only Tier As defended a district alone. But with Reader and Brooke still fighting for their lives, the Third District had been reduced to a single Seraphim. It was never meant to remain that way. Benson had already mapped out the path that would prepare Triumphant for the next rank. The promotion to Tier B wasn't waiting on his approval—it was waiting on Triumphant to reach the level required to bear it.
Benson quietly set the paperwork aside and rose from behind his desk. He adjusted the knot of his tie, smoothed the front of his suit, then walked around the desk to greet the three men properly. Before saying a word, his eyes lingered on each of them in turn. Years of command had taught him that a person's expression often revealed far more than their voice ever would, and although Hope, Charles, and Triumphant all stood with the same disciplined composure expected of Fighters, their unexpected visit told him enough. They hadn't come to exchange pleasantries.
"Gentlemen..." Benson greeted them with a polite nod. "It's good to see you all doing well. Now tell me... what do I owe this visit?"
Lieutenant Charles was the first to answer. Stepping forward with practiced military precision, he saluted before lowering his hand.
"Sir, I know these past few weeks have placed an enormous burden on your shoulders, and I also know you're not the kind of man who asks others to carry it for you. That's precisely why these two asked me to accompany them today. They believe they have a proposal that may ease some of that burden."
Charles stepped aside once he had finished, leaving the floor to Hope and Triumphant.
Benson's attention shifted between the Archangel and the Seraphim. Truthfully, he already had a suspicion about what they were about to ask. Ever since Triumphant had recovered, the young Fighter hadn't struck him as someone content with sitting on the sidelines.
Triumphant confirmed that suspicion almost immediately.
"Sir," he began, standing as straight as ever with both hands behind his back, "I'd like you to assign me to the Auction operation."
The request was delivered without hesitation. There was no uncertainty in his voice, no attempt to negotiate—only quiet determination.
Benson regarded him for a long moment before replying.
"That's no small request." His voice remained calm, though his eyes searched Triumphant's face for something beyond confidence. "May I ask why you believe you should be part of this operation?"
Triumphant inhaled slowly before answering.
"...It's personal, sir."
Benson's brow lifted ever so slightly.
"Personal?"
"Yes, sir. It's something I have to settle myself."
Silence settled over the office.
For a brief moment Benson simply studied him, weighing the answer against everything he knew about the operation that awaited them. When he finally spoke, there was neither anger nor disappointment in his voice, only the firmness of a commander who understood the cost of every decision he made.
"I'm afraid that's not enough."
He folded his hands behind his back and slowly paced toward the window overlooking Breedom.
"The Auction isn't a battlefield where I can afford to indulge personal motives. It's an operation where every decision we make before we even arrive may determine whether thousands live or die afterward."
His gaze drifted across the skyline before returning to the three men.
"If this mission fails, we won't simply lose soldiers. We'll lose something far more valuable than that."
The room grew noticeably heavier.
Charles instinctively straightened his posture.
Hope remained as composed as ever.
Even Triumphant understood that Benson wasn't refusing him.
Not yet.
He was measuring whether the reason standing before him was worthy of the responsibility he sought.
Because if there was one person who understood the weight of the coming operation, it was Benson himself. For everyone else, the battle would begin the moment they arrived on Planet Luve.
For him...
It had begun the moment the Fighters learned about the Auction.
"We've been losing ground ever since Rumbler was taken back. One setback after another, and we haven't managed to stop any of it."
His voice remained calm, yet every word carried the weight of the weeks that had followed that day.
"I appreciate your willingness to volunteer for a mission this dangerous, Triumphant. But if your motives aren't aligned with this operation..." He paused for a brief moment. "...then I'm afraid I'll have to dismiss your request."
The office fell silent.
Triumphant never looked away. He stood exactly as before, hands folded behind his back, his expression as unwavering as the mountain he resembled. After a moment, he drew a slow breath before answering.
"Honestly, sir... I'd like to tell you I understand the burden you're carrying, but I don't."
His voice remained steady, neither challenging nor submissive.
"Every decision you make affects millions of lives. Whether they're Fighters, soldiers, or civilians, every death becomes another burden for you to carry. I know that much. But just as I can't understand your burden..." He paused, his eyes never leaving Benson's. "...you can't understand mine. I failed my duty. I didn't stop the Wrath Boy. I couldn't protect my district, and my comrades are still fighting for their lives because I wasn't strong enough."
A brief silence settled before he continued.
"So you're right. My reason for wanting to go is personal. I'm not asking to be deployed because it's my duty. I'm asking because I have unfinished business."
His jaw tightened ever so slightly.
"I have a score to settle with the Wrath Boy. I have to prove to myself that I can stand against him. And if I have the chance to strike the Red Moon while doing it..."
He finally allowed the conviction in his voice to rise.
"...then I'll do exactly what every Fighter is expected to do."
He held Benson's gaze without the slightest hesitation.
"My reasons may be different from yours, sir."
"But they won't stop me from accomplishing the mission."
Benson remained silent for a long moment.
Triumphant's words hadn't changed his mind, but they had reminded him of something he often found himself forgetting. Fighters weren't machines built to obey orders without question. They were people. Each carried convictions of their own, and those convictions didn't always have to mirror his. Yet different reasons didn't necessarily lead to different destinations. In the end, both of them sought the same outcome.
With that thought lingering in his mind, Benson shifted his attention to the only man in the room who had yet to speak.
"I'm assuming you're here for the same reason."
Hope gave a small nod.
"Yes... but not entirely."
His calm voice filled the office without the slightest hesitation.
"I'm here to tell you that I'll be participating in the operation... whether you approve of it or not."
The statement was even bolder than Triumphant's.
Benson slowly turned toward Charles, raising an eyebrow.
"I was under the impression you said they came with a proposal."
Charles offered an awkward smile, wisely deciding that silence was the safest response.
Hope continued as though nothing had happened.
"I don't mean to undermine your authority, sir. But just as Triumphant said, we don't understand each other's burdens. I have my own reasons for going, and whether they're personal or honorable doesn't concern me."
He paused only briefly.
"My goal has always been the same. To eradicate every ounce of malice from this galaxy.I won't let an opportunity like this pass me by. You said it yourself, sir. We're fighting for something far more valuable than our own lives."
Silence settled over the office once again.
Benson looked from Hope to Triumphant.
Their motivations were different.
One sought to settle a score that had haunted him ever since the Third District.
The other simply refused to ignore what he believed was his duty.
Neither of them had come to ask for permission.
They had come to place themselves on the board.
For the first time since learning of the Auction, Benson felt the operation beginning to take shape.
Without another word, he returned to his desk and picked up the reports scattered across it. His eyes skimmed the pages for a few quiet moments before he finally spoke.
"I'm only authorized to deploy a Tier B or Tier A Seraphim."
He lifted his eyes toward Triumphant.
"So when the time comes..."
"I expect nothing less than sixty-four percent Stardust from you."
A faint grin appeared on Triumphant's face.
"You can count on it, sir."
Benson gave a slow nod before looking between the two Fighters one last time.
"I'll see you both in two months."
The meeting had come to an end.
Hope and Triumphant turned toward the door, while Charles offered one final salute before following after them.
As the office door slid shut, the room fell silent once more.
Earth had finally begun choosing its pieces for the coming operation.
Far beyond its skies...
Another player had already begun moving theirs.
—
Planet Noon