Rumors never spread evenly.
They moved fastest where fear already lived.
Within twenty-four hours of the Svalbard incident, classified channels across the world lit up—satellites replaying distorted footage, mana sensors flagging impossible readings, observers arguing over definitions that no longer held.
But one detail refused to be buried.
It wasn't just Baek Siheon anymore.
There were two.
ASIA — KOREAN HUNTER ASSOCIATION (SEALED FLOOR)
The projection froze mid-frame.
A young man standing calmly amid ruin.
Beside him, a silver-haired woman holding a blade glowing with authority far older than modern systems.
The room was silent.
"…Play it again," one director said.
The analyst swallowed. "Sir, the Sentinel's contract was nullified. Not destroyed. Voided."
Murmurs erupted.
"That's impossible."
"Only higher authorities can—"
"No," the analyst said carefully. "Two authorities. Acting in synchronization."
A senior executive leaned back slowly.
"So it's not just an anomaly."
His eyes hardened.
"It's a pair."
EUROPE — HOLY INQUISITION ARCHIVES
Seraphina's image paused on screen.
The room was colder than necessary.
"That blade," an elderly cardinal whispered,
"belongs to the Crowned Line."
A younger inquisitor frowned. "Records say she abandoned formal allegiance."
"She didn't abandon it," the cardinal corrected. "She outgrew it."
The footage shifted—to Siheon.
Silence followed.
"…He isn't ranked," someone muttered.
"No," the cardinal said softly. "He's unrankable."
NORTH AMERICA — FEDERAL AWAKENED COMMAND
The general drummed his fingers.
"One anomaly destabilizes balance," he said. "Two create a narrative."
"A threat?" an aide asked.
The general shook his head.
"A symbol."
ELSEWHERE
Gods watched.
Demons listened.
Ancient contracts stirred uneasily.
And among the humans strong enough to frighten celestials, a consensus quietly formed.
If they are left unchecked, they will redefine the hierarchy.
If they are confronted blindly, war is inevitable.
So someone proposed a third option.
THE SUMMIT
Director Han stood at the center of a circular chamber suspended above neutral space.
Representatives from every major awakened power appeared as projections—some human, some not entirely.
Ulfric stood with arms crossed, grinning.
Seraphina leaned against a pillar, unimpressed.
Siheon stood quietly beside her, hands in his coat pockets.
"The world is destabilizing," Director Han began. "Not because of aggression—but because of uncertainty."
A projection flared to life.
A massive structure appeared: a vast coliseum forged from layered dimensions, runes burning along its edges.
"This," Han continued, "is the Convergence Arena."
Lucian whistled. "Oh. That old thing."
Seraphina's eyes narrowed. "You're suggesting that?"
"Yes," Han said. "A tournament."
The room erupted.
"Absurd!"
"Barbaric!"
Ulfric laughed loudly. "Finally."
Director Han raised a hand.
"This is not entertainment," he said. "It is controlled exposure."
He looked directly at Siheon and Seraphina.
"Let the world see your limits," Han said.
"Let factions measure instead of speculate."
Siheon spoke for the first time.
"And if we refuse?"
Han met his gaze steadily.
"Then others will test you in places with no rules."
Silence followed.
Seraphina clicked her tongue. "That's blackmail."
"Yes," Han agreed calmly.
Ulfric stepped forward.
"I'll join," he said. "If the boy does."
Siheon looked at him.
Ulfric grinned. "I want to see how far you've awakened."
Seraphina exhaled slowly.
"…Fine," she said. "But I fight on my terms."
All eyes turned to Siheon.
Inside him, the systems stirred—not urgently.
Curious.
〈Celestial Ascension System: Competitive convergence detected.〉
〈Demonic Sovereign System: Heh. A battlefield where killing is discouraged? Interesting.〉
Siheon nodded once.
"I'll participate," he said. "But I won't perform."
The room stilled.
"I'll fight," he clarified. "If someone stands in my way."
A faint smile touched Director Han's lips.
"Then it's settled."
The Convergence Tournament would begin in seven days.
And across the world—
Names were being submitted.
Kings.
Warlords.
Saints.
Monsters wearing human faces.
The era of quiet observation was over.