Violent beams of high-density plasma surged forward, glowing like twin spears of annihilation.
They shrieked through the chamber, slicing through the air with a deafening "ZZZZHHHHRRRRR!"
In a split second, they were about to vaporize Igaris and Evernight into smoldering dust.
Igaris didn’t flinch.
He calmly extended two fingers.
A streak of red, jagged energy erupted from his fingertips, colliding head-on with the plasma beams.
An earthshaking explosion tore through the chamber.
The shockwave blasted furniture apart. Ancient pillars cracked. Dust and fragments of stone flew in all directions.
Councilors were blown of from their seats, crashing to the ground with panicked grunts.
"Protect yourselves!"
The flames dimmed. Smoke curled into the air.
And there stood Igaris, unmoved in the chaos.
Red energy coiled around his arm like a dragon awakened.
Evernight stepped beside him, unharmed, her dark eyes glowing with restrained fury.
The silence that followed was thick, almost suffocating.
"How... how is he still using magic?" Councilor Meraville barked, scrambling to his feet. His voice was mixed with panic now. "The Antimagic Domain should have sealed off all arcane access for Summoners! It’s impossible!"
A sharp-eyed man with gray temples narrowed his gaze.
He stared at the swirling residual energy around Igaris, then toward the faintly flickering boundary lines of the dome.
"No... the Domain worked," he muttered. "But it was reversed. Inverted from within."
Gasps broke out among the loyal councilors.
The gray-haired man took a step forward, expression grim.
"It means someone within the dome... someone standing here... has not just resisted the Domain, but reversed reality itself. This is something not even the Architect could achieve easily."
All eyes snapped toward Igaris.
Igarus tilted his head naively, red sparks dancing across his fingers.
The dome above shimmered. The suppression field cracked like shattered glass, leaving veins of leaking energy in the air.
After activating [Yin-Yang Reversal], the suppressed mana surged back into the air, swirling like a liberated storm.
The dome shimmered once more, then shattered with a soundless implosion.
Igaris slowly rose from his seat.
At the same time, Evernight’s silhouette blurred. In a matter of seconds, all the S-Rank Mechas had been immobilized. Some crumbled into heaps of metal, others stood frozen, locked in place by invisible force.
Not a single one could move.
The chamber fell silent again.
"No. No... This can’t be happening."
Meraville stepped back, his pupils trembling as he stared at Igaris.
The Architect’s Heir turned his gaze across the entire chamber. His blue eyes, now streaked with threads of crimson, scanned each face one by one.
Disgust. Disappointment. Cold resolve.
Then, he finally spoke.
His voice was low, calm, and terrifyingly final.
"I had hoped we could come to an agreement."
"I gave you a chance to listen. To understand. To join me in rebuilding the world the Architect dreamed of."
"But instead, you chose betrayal. You chose fear. You chose slavery beneath false gods."
His footsteps echoed as he walked toward the center of the chamber, each step like a countdown.
"You think this was about control? About power? No. I never needed this seat. I never needed your titles or approval."
He raised his hand slowly and Acquisition energy pulsed from his palm like a heartbeat.
"But since you chose to sell your souls, I will not let you walk freely anymore."
"From now on, you belong to me."
"As tools. As slaves. As pawns."
Several councilors collapsed to their knees, unable to breathe under the suffocating weight of Igaris’s presence.
But the five who had stood firm and honest were left untouched. The pressure never reached them.
They stood still, pale and shaken, watching as the rest of the chamber descended into a chilling silence.
Those very same people who had condemned the Heir... who demanded Calypso’s execution... now knelt on the cold floor with trembling bodies and lowered heads.
Their eyes were vacant.
Their will... crushed.
One by one, traitorous councilors fell fully to the ground, bowing like slaves.
"This can’t be..." whispered William, staring in disbelief.
But deep down, he understood. Resistance was no longer an option.
The Federation as they knew it... had just changed forever.
DING—DONG... DING—DONG...
The sacred bells of Oracle City tolled twelve times, louder than ever before. Then, the Citywide Announcement System came alive with a crackle.
"This is an official decree issued by the Central Council of the Federation."
"Effective immediately, Igaris Vance, rightful heir of the Architect, is hereby appointed as Supreme General of the Federation."
"All divisions across Military and Civilian sectors must follow his commands without delay or resistance."
A pause followed. Then a second, warmer voice continued the announcement.
"Citizens... rejoice. For we now walk under the wings of the Architect’s Legacy once more."
"Under His Heir, Igaris Vance, a new and prosperous world is about to be born."
"Glory to the Federation. Glory to Humanity."
When the broadcast ended, Oracle City, the Jewel of the Federation, fell into stunned silence.
From the upper terraces of Skybridge District to the crumbling outskirts of Sector Twelve, citizens stared wide-eyed at the floating holoscreens that replayed the proclamation over and over.
"Igaris Vance... the Architect’s Heir?"
"Why are they giving him all the power?"
"Well... I already had hunch about this outcome when he arrived with all that fanfare. People would accept him without question."
"Wait... doesn’t that mean the Rule of Federation is over?"
Children clutched their parents’ hands tighter.
Vendors stopped shouting in the marketplaces.
Even the ever-persistent hum of traffic and drones dimmed, as if the machines themselves paused to listen.
Central Plaza, Oracle City
"Th-the Supreme General?" A man in a crimson soldier’s jacket muttered. "I thought he was a terrorist."
"That’s what they told us," said another, her voice cracking. "But... the Architect’s heir?
He’s the rightful one..."
A priest in white and blue robes walked to the center of the plaza. He knelt.
"Praise be... the Architect’s lineage lives on..."
And then... it began.
A young officer dropped his rifle and fell to one knee.
Two more followed. Then ten. Then dozens.
People all around began kneeling, not out of fear, but out of something else...
Something ancient. Something buried in the Federation’s soul.