On the western side of Sokovia, nestled within a jagged ridge of ancient, forested cliffs, a formidable castle loomed under the pale, indifferent moonlight. Its silhouette, though majestic, spoke of enduring hardship. Though time and endless war had left it deeply scarred—its once-proud walls cracked, its grand towers broken, and entire sections reduced to rubble—it still stood proud, a silent, defiant monument to an age long gone. Despite the extensive damage, it remained, at its core, a solid fortress, especially with heavily armed guards stationed meticulously around the premises.
At the castle's front gate, two soldiers stood lazily, their rifles slung across their shoulders, an almost casual disregard for their duty. The night air was heavy, thick with the acrid scent of cheap tobacco as they puffed on their cigars under the flickering, harsh glare of the security lights.
"Hey, Fel," one of them said through a mouthful of smoke, his voice a low grumble. "You think that Elistia girl's actually gonna show up to rescue her brother?"
The other guard clicked his tongue, a sharp, annoyed sound. "Tch. I don't know, and I don't care. Hell with her. I'm getting paid to stand here, not daydream. You should shut up and just do your job."
"Damn this guy…" the first one muttered under his breath, narrowing his eyes as he took another deep drag of his cigar, the tip glowing red in the darkness.
But then—something caught his eye.
A flicker. A flash.
A strange, pulsating, glowing light at the very edge of his vision. He instinctively turned toward it, squinting, trying to make out the shape against the vast canvas of the night sky.
At first, it looked like nothing more than an orange dot, impossibly far off in the sky, a distant, harmless star.
Then, in an instant—it grew.
The orange dot expanded with terrifying rapidity, swelling and consuming the darkness, until it became a blinding, incandescent sphere of fire, like a second, malevolent sun blooming in the dead of night.
"What the hell—?!" The guard's voice was a choked cry of disbelief, swallowed by the rapidly approaching heat.
Even from over a hundred meters away, the heat was unbearable, an oppressive wave that instantly vaporized the moisture from the air. The guard's clothes ignited in a sickening whoosh, bursting into flame. He didn't even have time to scream before the inferno consumed everything—his body, his weapon, his very existence.
In a single, overwhelming explosion, a thunderous roar that shook the very ground, the fireball engulfed the entire front gate and surged inward—a ravenous tide of pure energy. It tore through ancient, thick stone walls, devouring hardened rock, consuming splintered wood, and melting twisted steel. The 200-year-old castle, a monument of resilience, stood no chance. In mere moments, it was reduced to nothing more than smoking rubble, fine ash, and a glowing, superheated crater that shimmered with residual heat.
High above the devastation, nestled among the jagged peaks of a nearby mountain range, two figures stood in silence, their silhouettes starkly illuminated by the inferno of the burning ruins below.
One of them, trembling violently from head to toe, was Anastasia Elistia. Her face was a mask of shock, her carefully composed demeanor shattered. "Mr. Elric… is this… really okay?" Her voice quivered—not just with anxiety, but with genuine, profound fear, a fear that transcended mere terror. Her eyes remained fixed on the unbelievable sight before her: a massive, glowing crater, nearly a hundred meters across, where her ancestral home, her family's bastion, had stood just minutes ago.
Her hands shook uncontrollably, a visible tremor that she couldn't suppress. She felt numb, detached from the horror, as if witnessing a dream.
And when she finally looked at the young man beside her, the architect of this destruction, her breath hitched, a sudden, sharp intake of cold air.
Elric's expression was disturbingly calm—but unnervingly so. One of his brilliant blue eyes had now turned a ghostly, incandescent white, glowing faintly with an otherworldly light, a chilling testament to the power he wielded.
He spoke without turning toward her, his voice perfectly level, yet filled with an undeniable authority.
"Don't worry. Like I said, your brother is safe. He's in the underground dungeon. We'll go retrieve him now."
Back at Anastasia's former residence, the dilapidated house that now served as Elric's base, far from the searing heat and drifting ashes of the destroyed castle, she turned toward Elric, her brows drawn together in a deep furrow of concern.
"Boss… before we go," she began, her voice hesitant, "there's something I need to ask."
Elric raised an eyebrow, a subtle gesture of curiosity, his blue eyes meeting her troubled green ones. "Hmm? What is it?"
Taking a deep, steadying breath, Anastasia asked, the question heavy with unspoken fear, "What do you plan to do with the outsiders? The Americans… the Russians… are you really planning to fight them directly?"
Her voice trembled slightly as she continued, the words coming in a rush.
"I—I just don't think it's a good idea. Even if you defeat them now, they might come back with even greater force, with global repercussions. And when that happens… the world will start paying attention. Other nations might join in too, turning Sokovia into an even larger battleground."
She looked him directly in the eyes, worry etched all over her face, pleading with him to understand the weight of her fears.
Elric remained calm. Too calm. His composure was unsettling, almost alien.
"You say 'maybe'..." he replied, his voice steady and chillingly confident, devoid of any doubt. "But I say 'definitely'. They will come. That much is certain."
Anastasia clenched her fists at her sides, her knuckles white.
"This land… it's already suffered too much," she whispered, her voice filled with a deep, heartfelt anguish. "I don't want an even bigger war here…"
But Elric merely smiled slightly, a subtle, knowing curve of his lips, and turned to face her fully, his glowing eye still a stark white.
"You don't need to worry about any of that," he said, his voice reassuringly dismissive. "Just be ready to take control of Sokovia. Re-establish the monarchy. As fast as possible."
He paused, then added with a light, almost teasing chuckle, "I hope that won't be too difficult for you."
Anastasia nodded, her face firm now, a spark of her former determination returning.
"Don't worry, Boss. Ever since democracy took over, this country's only fallen further into chaos. If we can bring back order, I don't think anyone will oppose the return of the monarchy."
"Good," Elric said simply, his gaze drifting upward, as if contemplating something far beyond the confines of the room.
"And as for the Americans and Russians…" he glanced back at her, a knowing glint in his eyes. "They'll pull out on their own within a month or so. Soon, they'll have much bigger problems to worry about. This land, this war-torn country, will be far down their list of priorities."
"I hope so," Anastasia whispered, her tone full of quiet, fragile hope, clinging to his words as if they were a lifeline.
Elric smiled faintly, a fleeting expression.
"Just enjoy the time with your brother while you can," he said, already turning to leave, his figure beginning to blur. "You'll be very busy in the future. But don't worry about your safety. From now on… I'll take care of that."
Without waiting for a reply, Elric vanished, his figure slipping into the air like smoke, leaving behind only the lingering scent of ozone.
A moment later, in a dark chamber, deep within the hidden depths of his surveillance facility, Elric appeared once more—this time in the heart of the cold, sterile environment.
The cold metal beneath his feet reminded him he had arrived.
He raised his hand.
"Aline," he said into the silence, his voice echoing faintly in the vast space, "are preparations complete?"
A mechanical voice responded, smooth and utterly emotionless, emanating from hidden speakers.
"Affirmative. All systems ready."
"Good," Elric said, his voice now serious and quiet, carrying the weight of impending action.
"Then begin the plan."