[Soundscape: Faint wind brushing against tall castle spires. The low hum of magical lanterns glows in the strategy hall. The heavy wooden doors creak open, echoing across the high marble walls.]
The large chamber shimmered with light as golden glyphs flickered beneath the stone floor. The Council of Surge had carved them long ago—sealing power into the foundation itself. King Farhan stood at the head of a wide crescent table made of obsidian and dragonwood. His hands rested firm on its surface, fingers slightly curled, eyes brooding as the last of the summoned warriors entered.
Flowing robes, armored boots, and pulsing auras marked the arrivals. On the left flank stood the Mythics—Arslan at the front, black hoodie hanging over his eyes, followed by Vaelith, Ismere, Tharion, and others. On the right, the Apex-ranked warriors—Zayan Taelrin's spectral armor faintly glowed with blue runes, Lireya stood calm and composed, while Talvora and Selene eyed the gathered hall with quiet intensity.
A royal guard struck the golden staff once on the floor. CLANG.
"All present, My King."
King Farhan slowly lifted his gaze, the silver crown above his brow catching the sun filtering through the mosaic windows behind him.
> "Three demon sites have risen again," Farhan began, his voice deep, calm, but weighty. "One in the Eastern Coils of Vareth Swamp, another near the abandoned Forge of Elmath, and the last at Cindervale Ravine—right where the dragon bones sleep."
The mention of each name sent a ripple through the room. Even Arslan's gaze sharpened slightly under his hood.
> "These are not remnants," the King continued. "They are fresh. Formed with power we believed we had buried. But demons… they rot the world from beneath when ignored."
He turned to the Royal Cartographer. With a flick of her hand, three glowing sites floated above the table in 3D illusion. The terrain surrounding them shimmered—corrupted energy veins visible pulsing beneath.
> "We must not delay. I've summoned you, my greatest, because only Mythic and Apex forces can push through these fields of taint and survive."
[Sound: Hushed whispers. Lireya exchanges a glance with Emorin. Zhalya's eyes narrow slightly.]
King Farhan gestured toward the floating maps.
> "I am assigning three strike teams. Each of you was chosen based on power compatibility, tactical contrast, and prior coordination. These missions are not just to fight… they are to end the spawn roots inside these sites."
He raised his hand. A royal guard unrolled a scroll and read aloud:
Team One – "Sable Lance" (Assigned to Vareth Swamp)
Arslan (Dark Energy Manipulation)
Caelis Morvayn (Frostbind)
Lireya Valmorin (Healer – Vital Rebirth)
Zayan Taelrin (Spectral Dominion)
Tharion Vale (Earthshock)
Raskor Vendel (Chain Rend)
Seris Vahla (Toxin Manipulation)
Eryssa Vornelle (Sound Splice)
Tarric Vohl (Thunderstep)
Nyven Soldran (Graviton Drive)
---
Team Two – "Iron Star" (Assigned to Forge of Elmath)
Vaelith Ren (Life Restoration)
Talvora Cresthane (Rift Javelin)
Ravik Durn (Stone Armoring)
Selene Myraquin (Mirror Warp)
Ismere Daeva (Blood Echo)
Derin Quess (Stormblight)
Maelis Kyrn (Flora Rejuvenation)
Kyren Daxe (Heat Pulse)
Cyrin Drelvas (Plasma Divide)
Myrden Crel (Forgewake)
---
Team Three – "Moonflare" (Assigned to Cindervale Ravine)
Nirela Quen (Moonlight Control)
Yuna Solthrae (Healing Pulse)
Zhalya Neris (Blood Sight)
Malrik Envor (Rune Surge)
Orien Dravell (Soulflash)
Emorin Faenith (Celestial Mending)
Kaela Durnwin (Ink Abyss)
Elyra Thorne (Emotion Freeze)
Thorne Zevak (Iron Pulse)
[Silence.]
Then murmurs spread like sparks on dry wood.
> "Cindervale… that place is practically cursed."
Arslan remained quiet. He didn't flinch, didn't blink. He absorbed the order like the stone walls around him. Beside him, Lireya placed a calm hand over her own heart, as if gathering resolve.
Suddenly—
[Sound: Heavy armored doors creak open once more.]
A young man stepped in, draped in a long travel cloak. Dust still clung to his boots. His eyes—sharp like obsidian but bright with intelligence—surveyed the room with bold curiosity. His black-and-gold attire shimmered slightly with enchantments from Bellmond.
> "Forgive the interruption, Father," said Kabir with a smirk. "You were halfway done without me?"
A wave of surprise moved across the room. Kabir had returned. After over a month in Bellmond, the prince had finally come back.
[Sound: Gentle gasp. Someone murmured, "That's the king's son?"]
King Farhan's stoic face cracked into a rare smile. He walked down from the head of the room and stood before Kabir. Their eyes met—father and son. Warrior and scholar.
> "You returned a day early," Farhan said, placing both hands on Kabir's shoulders. "Or exactly on time."
> Kabir grinned, "Bellmond's lectures grow dull when you know your country's sky is burning."
They both chuckled softly. A warm pause in the tension.
Then the King turned toward Arslan.
> "Arslan."
Arslan stepped forward, the faint shimmer of black energy leaking from his wrist before fading.
> "Yes, Your Highness?"
> "You'll take Kabir with you… to the Vareth Swamp."
Silence dropped again—not from offense, but from the weight of it. The King had just handed his only son to the battlefield. Not to a castle-bound post. Not to a scholar's role.
But to Arslan, a Mythic known for surviving when others fell.
Kabir glanced sideways at Arslan and gave a slight nod. "Heard you're the one who saved Father's life. I'll do my best not to get in the way."
> Arslan simply said, "Stay sharp. Or stay back."
Kabir smirked wider. "Spoken like a proper legend."
King Farhan stepped forward again, his voice stronger now, pride and caution wrapped around each word.
> "My son goes with you not to be protected, but to learn the weight of command and cost of peace. Let him watch you all. Let him fight, if the fire finds him. But above all—return him whole."
Zayan, standing across from Arslan, chuckled under his breath. "If anyone can drag the royal whelp through a demon swamp alive… it's Arslan."
> "Let's hope you still say that when we're knee-deep in corpse roots," muttered Tharion.
[Sound: Slow rising crescendo of magical wind as glyphs on the map pulse.]
King Farhan returned to his throne.
> "You leave at dawn. May the skies favor your blades, and may Kar'Thæl tremble at the unity of Mythic and Apex."
He raised his hand, fist clenched.
> "For Lumisgrave!"
Everyone, as one:
> "For Lumisgrave!"
---
[Scene fades to black with wind rising outside the Royal Hall, and sun just beginning to dip beyond the citadel's spires.]