The awakened individual nodded with understanding, recognising the dismissal for what it was.
Military training had taught him when to press for information and when to simply accept orders and move forward. This was clearly one of the latter situations.
He returned to the combat zone, where several other newly awakened military personnel were engaging the steady stream of demons that emerged from the rift. The creatures were imp-like entities, no larger than house cats, all of them represented valuable experience points for the developing supernatural soldiers.
Naturally, none of these awakened individuals had been thrown into combat without proper preparation. Each had undergone extensive power-levelling sessions using controlled environments and carefully selected opponents before being deemed ready to face demonic entities.
Besides, they weren’t operating alone—experienced beta players who had been part of Armageddon since its early days provided support and emergency backup when situations became too dangerous for the trainees to handle independently.
James was present primarily to ensure that nothing unexpected happened during these training exercises. His role combined tactical oversight with emergency response capabilities, ready to intervene if any of the emerging demons proved to be beyond the capabilities of the training teams. His presence alone provided a psychological safety net that allowed the newly awakened individuals to push their limits without fear of catastrophic failure.
As the awakened soldier returned to his training rotation, James found his thoughts inevitably drifting back to the subject that had been occupying his mind for the past several hours: Arthur Fate and the circumstances surrounding his reported elimination.
Whilst he had personally reviewed the video footage captured during the strike, witnessed the massive explosions that had torn through Installation Seven, and been present during the mission briefing that confirmed the target’s destruction, something about the entire situation continued to nag at him with persistent unease.
The military had deployed comprehensive reconnaissance teams to scout the area in the aftermath of the bombing. Their reports had been thorough and unambiguous—the entire installation had been completely destroyed, reduced to a glass crater that bore no resemblance to its previous structure.
Advanced thermal imaging had detected no signs of life, no evidence of survival, no indication that anything organic could have withstood the devastating force that had been unleashed.
According to every piece of evidence they had gathered, Arthur Fate had indeed been turned to ash, his body vaporised by temperatures that exceeded those found in stellar cores. The reality of such weapons of mass destruction was clear: no human being, regardless of their supernatural capabilities, could survive the kind of destruction that had been documented at the target site.
But James remained worried, a nagging sensation in the back of his mind that refused to be silenced by logic or evidence. What if, despite all appearances and scientific impossibility, Arthur had somehow survived? What if the man who had consistently defied expectations and demonstrated capabilities that bordered on the incomprehensible had found a way to escape even this planned assassination attempt?
He shook his head vigorously, trying to dispel such thoughts by focusing on their fundamental impossibility. The amount of energy that had been released during the strike was beyond anything that a human body could withstand.
Whilst Arthur’s fate was powerful, his power didn’t lie in his defensive measures, but in his offensive. And, Arthur didn’t escape the site when it was blown; he had been there!
Even the most advanced supernatural abilities had limits, and those limits were far below what would be required to survive a direct hit from multiple MOAB-class weapons.
The very idea that someone could walk away from such devastation was not just unlikely—it was physically impossible according to every law of physics and supernatural theory that military scientists understood. Entertaining such doubts was counterproductive at best and potentially damaging to morale and operational effectiveness.
Yet as James looked at the dimensional rift once again, watching purple energy dance along its edges like captured lightning, he couldn’t entirely shake the feeling that their celebration might be premature.
Beijing, China - Central Military Commission
President Feng stared at the incoming reports scrolling across multiple screens in the command centre. His hands gripped the edge of the marble conference table as each update painted a picture of success that exceeded even his most optimistic projections.
"Sir," General Liu approached with barely contained excitement, a tablet clutched in his hands. "The latest intelligence reports from our field commanders."
Feng gestured for him to proceed, though his eyes never left the main display showing a map of global demon activity. Red markers, which had been spreading like a plague across continents just hours ago, were now systematically turning green as confirmed elimination sites.
"The northwestern provinces report complete elimination of demonic presence," Liu announced, his voice carrying the satisfaction of a soldier witnessing impossible victory. "Sylvaris has closed two major rifts in the past hours alone."
Feng’s lips curved into a smile that held depths of savage satisfaction. "Two rifts. And casualties among our forces?"
"Minimal, sir. The serpent’s efficiency is..." Liu paused, searching for adequate words. "Unlike anything our commanders have ever witnessed. He doesn’t just help us eliminate the demons, giving us power we desperately need—he devours the ones that escape entirely, leaving no trace for cleanup operations."
The President turned his attention to a secondary screen displaying live footage from one of Sylvaris’s recent operations. The massive serpent, his scales gleaming with otherworldly power, moved through demon hordes like a force of nature. Where other military units required coordinated strikes and support, the creature simply consumed everything in his path.
"Sir," another aide approached with urgent reports. "Intelligence confirms similar patterns across all allied territories. The French report Aamon has eliminated two rifts. The Palestinians indicate Formicia has closed three major portals. The Canadians..."
Feng raised a hand, cutting off the litany of success stories. His mind was already calculating the implications, processing the strategic ramifications of what they were witnessing.
"Arthur’s forces are moving," he murmured, more to himself than to his assembled staff. "Not randomly engaging targets, but following a coordinated plan that spans continents."
General Liu nodded with growing understanding. "Each summon is optimising their approach based on local conditions and threat assessment. They’re not just powerful—they’re intelligent, adaptive."