The descent into Caremia was like lowering into a fortress of ice and steel. The capital city, Voros, was built into the base of a massive mountain range, designed to withstand both the harsh northern winters and the most catastrophic Guut assaults. The architecture was brutalist and imposing—grey stone walls, anti-air defense turrets on every rooftop, and a massive energy shield dome that shimmered faintly in the cold air.
The private jet touched down on a dedicated diplomatic runway. A convoy of armored limousines awaited them.
Max and Zog were whisked away through the frozen streets to the Grand Palace of Nations, a colossal structure that served as the venue for the ICSH. The security was suffocating. There were no local police here; the perimeter was guarded by elite HPF units from around the world. Max saw snipers on the balconies, K-9 units sniffing for explosives, and sensors that hummed as they scanned for Fluid signatures.
Inside the Palace, the main atrium was a sea of diplomats, generals, and aides rushing about with tablets and earpieces.
"Wait here," Zog ordered Max near a large marble pillar. "I must clear our credentials with the High Council security chief. Do not wander."
Zog disappeared into the crowd. Max stood awkwardly in his dress uniform, tugging at the stiff collar. He felt like an imposter. He was a soldier, a killer of monsters, not a diplomat.
"You clean up nice, kid."
Max turned around. Standing there, holding a tablet and looking significantly more tired than Max remembered, was Harry.
Harry was the scout who had found Max, Eren, Edy, and Malina. He was the one who had given them the card, the one who had opened the door to this insane world. He was wearing a sharp suit, but his tie was loosened, and he had grey streaks in his beard that hadn't been there six months ago.
"Harry," Max breathed, a genuine smile breaking through his tension. "Sir."
Harry chuckled, walking over and shaking Max's hand. The grip was firm. "Drop the 'sir.' I'm not your commanding officer anymore. I'm just the guy who finds the meat for the grinder."
"It's good to see you," Max said. "I didn't think scouts attended these things."
"We do when the brass needs numbers," Harry sighed, leaning against the pillar. "I'm here coordinating the logistics for the new recruitment drive. The leaders inside... they want to know where their money is going. They want to know why we haven't won the war yet."
"What have you been doing?" Max asked. "Since you dropped us off at the Academy? We haven't heard a word."
Harry rubbed his face with a weary hand. "What have I been doing? Same thing I did with you, Max. Hunting for potential. After I dropped Squad 5 off, I was redeployed to the Southern Sector. The slums of Rio, the ruins of Old York. Looking for kids with the spark."
Harry's expression darkened slightly. "It hasn't been a good year, Max. The 'spark' is getting rarer. Or maybe the Guuts are getting to them faster than I can."
"We heard the casualty rates were high," Max said quietly.
"High?" Harry let out a bitter laugh. "Max, out of the three hundred recruits I scouted in the last six months... only forty passed the entrance exam. And out of those forty, ten died in their first month of basic training. They tried to force their Fluids to awaken and burned out."
Harry looked at Max, his eyes scanning the new scars on Max's face and the way he held himself—with that dangerous, coiled stillness of a predator.
"That's why seeing you standing here is... a relief," Harry admitted. "I heard about Oakhaven. I heard about the Monarch. And the Rose District."
Max stiffened. "You have clearance for that?"
"I have clearance to know that my best finds are still alive," Harry said. "You, Malina, the speedster, and the calculator. Squad 5. You guys are becoming a legend in the recruitment division. We use you as the example. 'Be like them,' we tell the terrified kids. 'Survive like them.'"
"We barely survived," Max murmured, thinking of Eren's leg and Malina's stomach. "It's getting worse out there, Harry. The Guuts are changing. Evolving."
Harry nodded grimly. "I know. I've seen it in the field. I scouted a girl in a village near the equator two weeks ago. When I got there... the whole village was gone. No bodies. Just silence. It's like the earth just swallowed them."
Max felt a jolt. Just like Oakhaven.
"Harry," Max lowered his voice, stepping closer. "Have you noticed anything... strange inside the HPF? Not just the monsters. The organization itself?"
Harry paused. He looked around the atrium, checking the nearby guards.
"Strange how?" Harry asked carefully.
"Secrets," Max said. "Levels of power they don't tell us about. Officers watching us. Things that don't add up."
Harry held Max's gaze for a long moment. Then he looked down at his tablet.
"Max, listen to me," Harry said softly. "I'm a scout. My job is to find talent and hand it over to the trainers. I don't ask questions about what happens in the labs or the high-security prisons. And do you know why?"
"Why?"
"Because the scouts who ask questions tend to get reassigned to the Deep Patrols," Harry said grimly. "And nobody comes back from the Deep Patrols."
Harry put a hand on Max's shoulder. "You're special, Max. You have the Void. That makes you valuable, but it also makes you a target. Whatever game Zog is playing, whatever politics are happening in that room... be careful. The HPF isn't a family. It's a weapon. And weapons get discarded when they break."
"I'm not going to break," Max said.
"I hope not," Harry smiled sadly. "Because frankly, kid, you're the best recruit I've ever found. Don't make me regret signing that card."
Before they could say more, the massive gilded doors at the end of the hall creaked open. Zog stepped out, spotting Max. He jerked his head, signaling him to come over.
"Duty calls," Harry said, straightening his tie. "I have to go argue with the Finance Minister of Grance about why we need more budget for ammunition. Good luck in there, Max."
"Take care, Harry," Max said.
Harry disappeared into the crowd, another cog in the machine. Max took a deep breath, fixed his jacket, and walked toward Zog.
"The session is beginning," Zog said as Max approached. "Stay here. Guard the door. Do not let anyone enter, no matter who they claim to be. The proceedings are Top Secret."
"Understood," Max said.
Zog turned and walked into the colossal debating chamber. The heavy doors slammed shut, sealing the fate of the world inside.
Max stood guard. For three hours, he didn't move. He could hear muffled voices from inside—shouting, banging on tables, silence, then applause. He felt the vibration of power through the floor. The tension in the hallway was palpable; aides paced back and forth, terrified of what decision would be made.
Finally, the doors opened.
It was over.
The hall was silent. Zog stood in the doorway. He looked exhausted, as if he had just fought a physical battle.
"Come," Zog commanded.
Max stepped inside.
The Hall of Consensus was breathtaking. It was a vast amphitheater, with rows of seats rising in a circle around a central podium. The flags of 150 nations hung from the ceiling.
Sitting in those seats were the most powerful people on Earth. Max recognized faces from the news—the President of the Western Alliance, the Emperor of the East, the Prime Minister of the Southern Coalition. They were all staring at him.
Some looked bored. Some looked skeptical. Some looked terrified.
Zog walked Max to the center of the room, standing him on the podium under the glare of the spotlights.
"Leaders of the Coalition," Zog's voice boomed, amplified by the acoustics of the room. "You asked for proof. You asked if our funding is yielding results. You asked if humanity has a future against the evolving threat."
Zog placed a heavy hand on Max's shoulder.
"I present to you Agent Maxwell. Squad 5."
A murmur went through the crowd.
"Six months ago, he was a civilian," Zog continued. "Today, he is a weapon capable of engaging M-Class entities. He possesses the rarest Fluid affinity recorded in a century. The Void."
Zog looked down at Max. "Show them."
Max hesitated. Then, he let it out.
He didn't unleash the Domain. He just flared his aura.
WOOSH.
Violet flames erupted from Max's body. The temperature in the massive hall dropped ten degrees instantly. The shadows in the corners of the room stretched and twisted, reaching toward him. The pressure was immense, making the air feel heavy and thick.
The world leaders gasped. Security guards near the walls reached for their weapons instinctively, but Zog held up a hand.
"He has reached Level 2 in record time," Zog announced, his voice cutting through the fear. "He is the proof that humanity can evolve. He is the proof that we can hunt the hunters."
Zog looked at the assembly, his mechanical eye gleaming.
"Invest in the HPF. Give us the resources we need. And soldiers like Max will ensure that your nations survive the coming winter."
Max stood there, wreathed in violet fire, looking at the faces of the men and women who ruled the world. He realized then that he wasn't just a soldier anymore.
To them, he was a product. A prototype. A hope.
Zog squeezed his shoulder. "That is enough, Max. Power down."
Max pulled the aura back in. The lights stopped flickering. The cold receded.
"The conference is concluded," the Head of the Council announced from the high seat. "Funding is approved. Project Ascension is greenlit."
As the leaders began to file out, casting wary glances at Max, Zog leaned in close to his ear.
"You did well," Zog whispered. "Now, let's get back to base. We have a spy to catch."