[Rigelius 24, 9092, 12:50PM (Orion Standard Time), Open Auditorium, The White Palace, Orion-I]

The White Palace’s open auditorium was jam-packed with New Age Powers military personnel as they awaited for their superiors to make their grand oration. As they waited, they conversed with one another about various topics, such as the war or their own personal lives. In the back row of the court, some triplet soldiers were having a chat about the Grand Admiral, with one of them having a… not-so-bright opinion regarding the subject at hand.

“Moe, I still don’t get why you’re so uptight about Grand Admiral Densworth,” one of the soldiers started. “He’s pulled us out of the gutter ever since his promotion. There’s literally nothing wrong with him.”

“Yeah! What Joe said!” exclaimed another soldier with a stage whisper. “You’re here going on about how you hate his leadership and whatnot. I, for one, think you’re just cranky because unlike the last Grand Admiral where he did all the work, you can't just be a lazy ass."

“No, it’s not that, Boe!” replied Moe. “…Okay, maybe it is partially, but that’s not the main reason I don't like him!”

“Alright, so what is then? Huh? Why do you have such a grudge against the Grand Admiral?” Joe crossed his arms as he leaned back on his seat and awaited Moe’s answer.

“Do you guys even read those files I sent to you in the chat?! Well, maybe if you took the time to read them, you’d understand my grudges a little better!” whisper-screamed Moe, to which Joe and Boe responded with groans of annoyance.

“Oh, for Mintaka’s sake…” Joe muttered as he facepalmed. “M, I thought we talked about you and your conspiracies. You’re lucky that the stars have blessed you and kept the higher-ups from hearing you out loud.”

“Again, what Joe said," said Boe as he rubbed his temples. “That crud’s messing with your brain, dude. You keep believing all of these damned rumors that ain’t got evidence. What are you going to do if you’re caught talking about this crap by the police? You’re lucky we’re sitting in the back row where no one can hear us talking right now.”

“But we do have evidence! Here, let me show you!” Moe activated his holophone, showing him a document consisting of various news articles, IDs, and pictures, all pinned to a corkboard, complete with red string connecting certain articles and pictures together. In other words, the usual for a conspiracy theorist.

“One, where the hell did Densworth even come from? All we know is that he had ties with the former Grand Emporion Schlatt—who I also have some theories on—and literally no one else on the Council. Two, if he’s a complete stranger to us, how did he rise through the ranks so quickly? Three, what ever happened to that red wolfy swordsman dude that the previous Grand Admiral hired? And four, why did he and Ferren have such massive disdain for one another? Do you see where I’m going with this?! All these questions, and no answers!”

“The only place I see you going with this is to the psychiatric ward. Because right now, you are a certified nutjob," replied Joe with brutal honesty. “You want answers? Fine, I’ll give you answers!" He started counting with his fingers as he spoke.

"One, Schlatt had a lot of connections with a lot of people. Grand Admiral Densworth was just one of those many people. Two, because he’s good at his damn job, that’s why. Three, what the hell does the sudden disappearance of a merc that a former council member hired have to do with this topic? And four, that’s their own personal business. And you know how much I hate getting into people’s personal business.” He crossed his arms. “Any other questions? Or a violent reaction, perhaps?”

“Ugh, you’re not looking at this from the right angle, Joe!” exclaimed Moe.

“And you’re not looking at it at all, you blind assfuck!” retorted Joe.

“Moe, are you sure these aren’t just random coincidences that you’re trying to cheese into a proper timeline?” asked Boe. “You’re really beginning to sound like Matteo and Patterson, and we all know what happened to them when they took their ramblings to the public.” Boe and Joe shuddered at the memory of seeing those twins dragged away by security guards to a place that only Orion's Stars would know of.

“They’re not coincidences, I swear! One way or another, all of these points are…” Moe noticed that his brothers had stopped talking, and were now nervously sweating. ”…linked? Uh, guys? Why're you all tensed up all of a su—”

He also stopped midway through talking the moment he could feel the atmosphere become more tense. The gentle breeze turned harsh as an aura of intimidation loomed over the triplets. Moe shakingly looked behind him, and went completely pale as he saw a figure that he wished he wasn’t seeing right now.

Ferren Densworth. The very man they were conversing about.

He stood over them, glaring at them with his singular eye after overhearing their conversation as he entered the open auditorium. The Burningham triplets froze in fright, shaking like wet dogs and sweating bullets as they were stared down by the Grand Admiral of the Orion League.

“Could you repeat what you were conversing about, privates?” asked Ferren with a soft-spoken yet stern and intimidating tone.

The brothers all sat there speechless, trying to come up with an excuse. Attempting to cover up their conversation, Joe sprung up and spoke.

“Uh, w-we were just talking about h-how brilliant you’ve been doing, leading our forces and all, sir! N-No ill talk to speak of whatsoever, Grand Admiral Densworth!” said Joe as he stood up and put his heart to his chest, performing the Orion salute.

“Uhm, y-y-yeah! We are eternally grateful for your leadership, Grand Admiral Densworth! We would never doubt you!” followed Boe who also gave the OL salute.

“I-I didn’t say anything bad! You must’ve misheard! I was just talking about how much I adore you! K-Keep at it, Grand Admiral!” finished Moe as he nervously chuckled and saluted.

Densworth glared at the triplets for a good while, which didn’t help to ease their minds. After what felt like hours, the Grand Admiral turned his attention away from them.

“Sit back down. You all look like imbeciles," ordered Ferren as he walked away to meet up with the rest of the NEP Council.

“Sir, yes, sir!” exclaimed the brothers, giving one last salute before sitting down. Once Ferren had left them and the aura returned to its peaceful state, they slumped into their seats, exhausted by the mental mindfuck they just got.

“This is why we can’t have nice things around you, Moe…” muttered Joe.

“I’ll… I’ll learn to keep my mouth shut," replied Moe.

“Good. ‘Cause if you don’t learn to shut up, I’m shutting you down. And you better take my word on it," finished Boe as he smacked his fist into his palm.

As Ferren walked towards the staircase that would bring him to the room where the council was, he ordered the Legionnaire guarding the stairs.

“Tell the central command to place Moe, Joe, and Boe Burningham on the watchlist. If even one of them says anything suspicious, take them in," whispered Ferren to the Legionnaire.

“Yes, sir," replied the Legionnaire. “Best get to the council now, sir. The Grand Emporion’s oration begins in fifteen minutes.”

“Noted.” Ferren saluted the Legionnaire as he walked up the stairs to meet with the rest of the council.

In the council room upstairs, six figures were waiting and preparing for the oration. The most prominent of these figures was a young man with ivory skin and an athletic build, sporting shoulder-length locks of wavy blonde hair atop his hair. In terms of attire, he wore an eye mask that made his eyes appear pure white, and he was dressed in a dark gray long coat with regal orange patterns and accents, black pants with a black leather belt and a circular buckle with the Orion constellation engraved into it, and black boots. None other than the Grand Emporion of the Orion League, Alistar Blitzkrieg.

He stood in front of the mirror as he adjusted his uniform to look his best for his oration. Assisting him was a young woman with a pale ivory skin tone, slender yet athletic build, red eyes, and light blue hair tied up in a high ponytail, sporting a white and orange admiral’s uniform. The Vice Admiral of the Orion League Militia, Oria Meissa.

“So, how’s it look, O?” asked Alistar as Oria helped him with his coat.

“Looking real sharp, Starboy,” Oria complimented the man with a grin as she fixed his collar. “Then again, it’s hard for you to look bad in anything, really.” Alistar blushed slightly at the Vice Admiral’s flirtation.

“Heh. And I thought being the smooth talker was my job between the two of us," replied Alistar, to which Oria chuckled at her partner’s quip.

“Well, why don’t you do us a favor and save the smooth talk for… some other time?” Oria spoke with a smirk and flirtatious tone her cheeks reddened slightly.

Alistar’s face flushed red, embarrassed and flattered by Oria's suggestion. He cleared his throat before responding.

“I-I’d, uh, l-look forward to that… if I were you," he stuttered as his cheeks got redder by the second.

“Oh, I’m already looking forward to it," whispered Oria with an amorous tone.

“Look, as much as I hate to bump into you two with your moment, could you guys save it for later? You’re making everybody in the room uncomfortable," groaned a man leaning against the wall in the corner of the room. This man was wearing a metal helmet, concealing his whole face, and sporting an athletic build. In terms of attire, he was dressed in a red and black coat, dark gray pants, and black boots. The Second Emporion and leader of the Legionnaire Corps, Rodrigo Dakila.

“Oh, r-right. Sorry, Dakila, apologized Dakila, becoming more flushed from embarrassment, to which the Second Emporion sighed.

“It’s fine," replied Dakila, scrolling through his holophone to pass the time. “Just save that talk for your own personal time.”

“Hmph. And here I was expecting more… professionalism from the New Era Powers Council," s a man standing by and looking out the window. His face bathed in shadow by his black and green hooded robe with small highlights of gold, though a muscular build could be made out from beneath the robe, and he made weird whirring noises whenever he moved. The representative of the Cahrystan Imperial Remnants, The Cahrystan High Lord.

“Instead, all that pervades my ears are smutty flirtations and informal conversations.” The High Lord spoke with a hubristic and prideful tone. “Surely, you are aware of the concept of class, are you all not?” His smug gripes earned him some glares from the Orion League members of the council.

“Now, now, High Lord. Let us not instigate conflict within this council," interjected a man sitting in an armchair. He had a porcelain skin tone, a broad and muscular build, green eyes, and dark brown slicked back hair with sideburns and a goatee. In terms of attire, he was wearing a dark red hooded coat with yellow accents, decorated with military medals and a Neo-Communist Party symbol on the back, gray pants, and black military boots. The Supreme Leader of the Neo-Communist Party, Vadim Volkov.

“Oh please, Supreme Leader Volkov," replied the High Lord. "Surely, you’d have some disdain for the unprofessionalism on display before your very eyes. It is an utmost defacement of our visage."

“Just call me Vadim, first of all," started Vadim. "And secondly, the standards for formality that you Cahrystans have are not nearly as high as the rest of the galaxy. I suggest you tone down your pride before it becomes your downfall. It’s ill-advised to keep your head in the clouds for too long, after all. And finally, use small words, will you? We are people. Not walking thesauruses."

“Oh, very well," groaned the High Lord as he rolled his eyes beneath his hood. “I will, as you say, cut back on my pride.”

“Hmm…” A man sitting in the armchair next to Vadim’s took mental notes of his surroundings. He had an espresso skin tone, a lean yet muscular build, black eyes with red irises, and gray hair in a military cut. In terms of attire, he was wearing a black plugsuit with yellow accents, over which he wore a short-sleeved yellow coat with an orange inner lining decorated with military medals and with the phrase “Vivat Externus” printed on the back in white text, and black boots with yellow straps and white soles. The Vice Admiral of the Externus Red Navy, Narong Pramuk.

Narong sat near-completely still, his only movements coming from his chest as he breathed in and out. His facial expression was a mixture of blankness, glaring, and contemplation, only occasionally moving his eyes as he glanced around the room. By now, the rest of the council had taken to calling it his “thinking face”. Everyone was used to his presence by now, save for the High Lord.

“Must the Red Navy’s Vice Admiral be so… aggressively tranquil?” asked the High Lord. “I’m sure it is not intentional, but the aura he exudes is always so heavy with this… I don’t know, false sense of peace? Like a tiger who could pounce on their prey at any given moment.”

“Eh, that’s just how Narong is," answered Dakila. “He’s always been more of a listener than a speaker. A man of reaction over action, you know"

“Hm. I suppose so. Still, could he not yield such a passive yet… threatening prese—”

“Apologies, High Lord. I don’t mean to radiate such an aura with my silence.” Narong spoke with a reserved and soft-spoken, yet dull voice, slightly startling the High Lord. “Would you like me to converse more often?” he asked.

“N-No, no, it was just a remark. Just voicing my honest opinion, is all," replied the High Lord with a hint of perturbation in his voice. “By the Tsar, he’s somehow more intimidating when he speaks!” He thought to himself.

“…Very well then." Narong turned to face Alistar. “So, when shall you begin your oration, Alistar?”

“In a bit, Pramuk. We just need to wait for Fer—” Alistar was interrupted by the sound of a knock on the door. “Huh. Speak of the devil. Let him in, Legionnaire.” He commanded the Legionnaire guarding the door, prompting them to open it and let the Grand Admiral in.

“Sorry I’m late," said Ferren as he entered the room. “Had to lock up some officers after I found them snorting Dreamwaves in the broom closet during the morning inspection. I also had to deal with a potential conspiracy case with the Burningham triplets. But nevertheless,”—he adjusted his uniform—”I am here." Ferren looked around the room and noticed that there were only six figures. “Hm… Strange. Where’s the Red Navy’s Grand Admiral?” He turned towards Narong for an answer. “Narong, you’re the Vice Admiral. Surely you know their whereabouts?"

“I was sent here in their place as the Externus representative. For reasons undisclosed to me, they didn’t want to be here," replied Narong, to which Ferren groaned and massaged his temples.

“It’s their grudge against me, isn’t it?” he muttered to himself. “Ah, whatever. They’ll come around eventually. They’ll have to.”

“What is the matter between you two Grand Admirals anyway?” asked the High Lord.

“Only the gods know, High Lord. Only the gods know. Fortunately, Pramuk should be a good enough representative for the Externus forces. Anyways,”—he gestured to the door leading to the balcony—”shall we, lady and gentlemen?”

“Best not to keep them waiting any longer. I’ll go tell the people we're ready," said Oria as she walked to the balcony along with the others to give the opening word. As she prepared with the opening word, Alistar approached Ferren.

“Hey, Ferren? I got something to ask," said Alistar.

“Something wrong, Alistar?” asked Ferren.

“N-No, no. Well, kind of. It's, well…" Alistar hesitated for a moment.

"Well, what?" Ferren raised his eyebrow. "Come on, then. Spit it out. Best not to keep the citizens waiting any longer." He gestured the Alistar to speak his mind.

"Well, it's just… regarding what we rehearsed… for my oration…” A doubtful frown formed on the Grand Emporion's face.

“Hm. You seem uncharacteristically anxious today, Alistar. You haven’t forgotten your lines, have you?”

“No, of course not. It’s just…” Alistar’s frown grew bigger as he struggled to confess.

“Just what exactly?” Ferren raised his eyebrow.

“It’s just, regarding our rehearsal and what you told me to say… Doesn’t it all sound kind of… I don’t know, despotic?” Asked Alistar with concern. Ferren placed his hand on the Grand Emporion’s shoulder.

“Listen, Alistar,” Ferren started as he pointed to the door leading to the balcony. “All those people out there? Right now, they’re expecting the second coming of your father. The Returning Star. The Return of Alexander Blitzkrieg. Which, given the fact that you’re literally a clone of him—credit to Vadim—is quite appropriate. So it’s only fair that we give the people what they’re waiting for, no?”

“I… I guess you have a point.” Alistar rubbed the back of his neck. “But still, I guess I’m still a little conflicted about all this. Like, would my father have actually said these kinds of things?"

“Alistar, we’ve gone over this before.” Ferren turned away from Alistar and looked at a portrait of Alexander Blitzkrieg on the wall. Were it not for the more developed and aged facial bone structure, the different clothing, and the longer hair, the painting could've been easily mistaken as a portrait of the former Grand Emporion’s gene-son.

“Your father would've deemed such language necessary for his philosophy to flourish.” Asserted Ferren. His voice was soft-spoken, to the point of almost being a whisper, yet filled with conviction and sternness. “His ideals revolved around the destruction of conflict. A galaxy free of wars. But only through the destruction of those who uphold the ideologies that lead to conflict can we bring this future to fruition.

“Democracy? Freedom? They’re all lies, Alistar. Countless people have died in the name of free will, and for what? For governors to continue exploiting the system and take everything for themselves? For people to become lazy slobs and depend on their leaders to do the heavy lifting? For people to keep on voting for the wrong leaders every single time election season comes around? Only through absolute control can a nation truly reach its peak.

“Alexander dreamt of a galaxy ruled by the Übermensch. The one among men who would ascend beyond life’s constraints. Beyond the mediocrities of kindness and understanding. And with his absolute power, he would take his rightful place as the one true ruler of all mortals. A galaxy free of conflict, but only when we are given the absolute power to ensure that fate. A galaxy where the strong need not to care for the weak and needy. A galaxy where all will learn their place in society…”

The Grand Admiral looked down at the floor with a despondent face.

“Sadly, he was never able to find this so-called Übermensch, nor was he able to become it himself.” Said Ferren with a bleak tone. But he perked right back up and placed his hands on Alistar’s shoulders. “But the time to search is no more, for that man now stands before us. And who better for it to be than Alexander’s own son? As of now, we are closer to victory than we’ve ever been. Soon, you will be able to finish what your father started. The stars, free of conflict. True peace. A chance to honor the Blitzkrieg family legacy once and for all. So, tell me, Alistar…” Ferren looked at Alistar straight in the eye with a stern face.

“What will you do about it?"

Alistar gazed at the balcony door for a good while, thinking about Ferren’s words. A chance to finish his father’s work and honor him living up to his example. To bring his father’s dream of peace through tyranny to life. To not grasp this opportunity now would be the mark of a fool, a failed son, he thought. And so, putting his anxiety aside, he adjusted his posture and steadied his breath, and walked towards the door that would lead to the balcony, ready to give his speech to the public.

“All according to plan…” Ferren muttered to himself. He smirked as he followed closely behind.

The crowd cheered as the Grand Emporion stepped forth into clear view, chanting his name in unison. Alistar raised his hand, signaling the people to lull their cheer. He cleared his throat, and started speaking, several drones amplifying his voice for all to hear,

“Citizens of the New Era Powers!” Alistar started. “As the Grand Emporion of the Orion League, I bring to thee the momentous news of our inevitable victory! Through the combined efforts and contributions of each faction within this alliance, our power has grown exponentially! Over the course of just a few months, we have pushed back the Kyklos United Worlds Alliance’s forces, taking numerous systems in the name of the New Era Powers!

“With the world of Terrax now in our grasp, we have gained a pivotal position from where we can launch our assault on the Icaria System! Their defenses are weakened, their forces are spread thin, and their home planet is left vulnerable! Once Icaria and her armies are decimated, the rest of the worlds in the KUWA will stand no chance against our forces! All that oppose us will be crushed swiftly and ruthlessly! And when the rest of the galaxy has fallen into Orion League hands, we shall enact our vision!

“My father’s vision for Kyklos shall come to fruition! No longer will the galaxy be embroiled in endless conflict and turmoil! Under the banner of the Eight Great Stars of Orion, we shall enter a new era of law and order! No more shall societies be ruled over by hopeless leaders who pointlessly hold on to the ideals that lead to nothing but downfall! In the new era, only the greatest among us shall rise to their rightful places as the rulers of the stars!”

The drones displayed four massive holographic flags, each one representing a nation within the alliance.

[From left to right starting from the top: The Orion League, the Externus Republic, the Cahrystan Imperials, and the Neo-Communist Legion.]

“Heed my word, sons and daughters of the new era! The time has come for these civilizations to realize their obsolescence and make way for the nations of the new age! Yesterday, they outshone us all! Today, the sun begins to set on their empires! And tomorrow, the stars of the new era will take their place!”

The people’s applause grew to near-deafening levels as the Grand Emporion finished his oration. His words invigorated them like nothing else. This was it. They were going to win this war and usher in a new era of peace and prosperity for all. The rest of the council members felt a surge of pride as their leader made his great proclamation…

Save for the League's Vice Admiral and Second Emporion.

Alistar raised his hand once more and the people held their tongues as he gave his closing remarks.

“There is much work to be done, my people! This opportunity to strike the Kyklos United World Alliance at its very core will not be within our grasp forever! We must mobilize our forces while the window is still open for us! So take up your arms, soldiers! The new age rests upon our shoulders now, and we must all have our part in carrying it to fruition! I have high hopes for our success!”

“Long live the new era!” Eeclaimed the New Era Council as they placed their fists on their hearts, prompting the crowd to exclaim the same phrase and perform the same salute. And with the oration now over, the crowd began to leave the auditorium to get back to work, and the council promptly exited the balcony.

“Well, that went quite well," said Narong. “I hope the Red Navy forces were alright with my presence there as a substitute for the Grand Admiral’s absence.”

“I’m sure they were, my friend," replied Vadim. “Do not let your second-in-command status discredit your significance as a figure in this council.”

“Thanks for your kind words, Supreme Lea—”

“We’ve been over this, Narong. We’re on a first name basis now. Just call me Vadim," he interrupted the Red Navy Vice Admiral mid-sentence.

“Of course. Apologies, Vadim," Narong apologized.

"Accepted, Narong." He then turned his attention to Oria, who was leaning on the wall and seemed to be… conflicted. "Hm? You seem troubled, Oria. What is on your mind?"

"Huh? O-Oh. It's nothing," responded Oria as she turned her head away.

"Come now. It is unhealthy to keep your thoughts to your—"

"I said I'm fine, Vadim. Really," Oria said more sternly this time, making Vadim flinch and step back a bit. "I'm just… tired, is all. Got a lot of work done earlier and I've still got more stuff to do. But I can manage…" She stood up from the wall and stretched her arms.

"I… see. Then in that case, I shall make no further attempt to probe. But if you are ever troubled, you may always approach me," said the Supreme Leader in a polite tone.

"I…" Oria stuttered on her words a little. "…Thanks, Vadim. Means a lot." She thanked Vadim as she looked at him with a meek smile.

"You are most welcome, Oria." Vadim then turned his attention to Alistar. "Anyways, shall we continue on with our duties?"

"Of course, Vadim. New era won't usher itself in, after all," said Alistar. He took out a holopad and displayed some holographic readings for the Council members' next assignments. “We’ve received reports of increased UNE Army activity in the planets on the Alpha-Beta Sector Border. Looks like they’re getting desperate to take back territory. High Lord, I’ll be sending you to lead the charge with your fleet. Vadim, you’ll be providing the manpower for the main armada. And please don’t get into another argument over being bougie again.” He squinted at the High Lord as he said that last sentence.

“Understood, Alistar," said Vadim.

“As you command, Grand Emporion. We will not disappoint," said the High Lord. The two left to go prepare their fleets, with Alistar turning his attention to Oria and Dakila next.

“Oria, I need you to command the forces on Colony Cluster ER-1." Alistar displayed a readout of some Icarian battle plans. "We've received some documents detailing some siege plans by Icarian forces leaked from the data center on Ios. Dakila will be accompanying you as second-in-command."

“Got it, Ali," replied Oria.

“I’ll go prepare my men. See you once the battle's over," responded Dakila as he walked with Oria to prepare for their counterattack, now leaving Ferren and Narong left with the Grand Emporion.

“Ferren, I’m going to need you to transfer posts with Narong. Valorian forces have been spotted in—"

"Wait, wait, wait…" Ferren stopped Alistar mid-sentence. "I-I don't think I heard that right. Alistar, our forces are on the verge of finally ending this conflict with a siege from Terrax, and you think now is a good time to reassign the role of battle commander to someone else?" he asked, baffled by the order. "Not that I have any doubts in Pramuk's abilities, but surely you have at least calculated the risks of such a short-notice reassignment."

"I know it's a late notice, but trust me on this," replied Alistar. "Valorian forces have been spotted amassing in great numbers dangerously close to our territory in the Sigma Sector, with our data analysts predicting a high chance of targeting Vadim's factories in Dammus-7 and 8. If those factories get into their hands, then our long-awaited siege will have to wait do I need you to back up the Neo-Communists forces with your armada."

"Did you even consider sending anyone else other than me, at the very least?" asked Ferren with frustration growing in his voice.

"I would if I could, Ferren. But everyone else is busy in their sectors." Alistar gestured to Narong. "Don't worry about it, man. Narong's got it all under control."

"A majority of the Terrax strike force consisted of Red Navy militia," started Narong in his usual monotone voice, "so I'm certain they'll even feel more comfortable having their Vice Admiral as the battle commander. Not that you are an incapable military leader, of course. I'm simply speaking my mind. But worry not, Sir Densworth. I shall perform at peak performance to ensure that our siege goes according to plan." He promised the still unsure Grand Admiral.

"Hmm…" Ferren rubbed his chin as he thought out the decision. After a while, he sighed and gave Narong his blessing, albeit in the usual Ferren fashion.

"Let Icaria and the rest of the KUWA know the might of our military in my absence. Do not disappoint."

"I will put our prowess on full display or die trying, Sir Densworth. You have my word and my blade," responded Pramuk before saluting and walking away to take a transport to Terrax.

"Not to be a critic or anything, but don't you think you were a little rough on Narong back there?" questioned Alistar as he and Ferren were left alone.

"Hm. I'd say it's perfectly justified," respondedd Ferren, looking Alistar in the eye as he spoke. "As on-the-fence as I am about him taking my place, especially on such a short notice, if you're really placing this much trust in him, then I will comply. But just know that if we suffer a major loss because of this…"

"We won't. Trust me, Ferren," sighed Alistar as he put his holopad away. "Well, I should go now. Still need to run the League, after all. Good luck with the Valorian forces."

"Thank you. And good luck to you as well with running the League." The two council members wished each other luck before parting ways.

And so, the nations of the New Era Powers proceeded to go and perform their tasks. For the new age now rests on their shoulders…