EPISODE 7 – SCENE 8: REFLECTIONS

Location: Inside the main caravan, deep into the night.

The wind howled outside, carrying with it the scent of smoke and cold earth. Yet within the walls of the main caravan, all was still. The shadows pressed close, drawn to the flickering light of the lanterns. Silence reigned, heavy and absolute.

William was now alone; his body stretched across the modest bed. His eyes weren't closed. Sleep wouldn't come tonight. His gaze was locked on the floating holoscreen before him, the light casting sharp lines across his face.

Maps. Data. Numbers. All laid bare beneath the sharp glow.

His fingers traced over the digital terrain, analyzing troop placements, supply routes, the delicate web of his newborn empire. Each line represented progress. Each marker was a reminder of the weight pressing against his back.

The birth of a city. The rise of an empire. The fall of failure.

And William knew—failure wasn't an option.

The screen pulsed, casting blue light across the walls. A sharp, metallic chime echoed, cutting through the silence. A new report. A new weight.

He didn't hesitate. With a wave of his hand, the screen flared brighter, revealing lines of cold, calculated text.

— Iris (her voice soft, mechanical): "Master William. Here are the latest system updates."

Words scrolled down the screen, each one a blade carving into William's focus.

• Resources: Stable supply levels. Surplus at 10%.

• Territory: Expansion progressing. Construction plans 1% of schedule.

• Forces: Recruitment numbers rising. Training efficiency went up by 15%.

• Objectives: New dungeon located to the East. High potential for experience and rare resources.

• Global Progress: Empire growth stable. Foundations solidifying.

William's eyes scanned each line, but his mind was already elsewhere. Each achievement, each success, felt… hollow. Insufficient.

It's not enough.

It would never be enough.

His fists tightened on the edge of the bed, the soft creak of wood echoing in the quiet. Every gain, every victory, came with its own price. With its own sacrifice.

And William knew… there would be more.

There had to be more.

His gaze shifted to the corner of the caravan, where a simple wooden box lay. Dark, unassuming. Yet heavy with meaning.

He crossed the room, his movements sharp, deliberate. Fingers brushed over the aged wood, tracing the lines of the seal. The weight of leadership pressed against his spine as he opened it.

Inside, the light caught on metal—cold, sharp, and absolute. An imperial seal, dark as an obsidian. A symbol of power. Of recognition. Of responsibility.

William stared at it. His reflection warped across its surface.

It wasn't just a mark of leadership. It was a burden. A reminder that every choice he made, every life he took or spared, every city he built or crushed… it would shape the empire that would either rise to glory or burn in shadow.

And that burden was his alone.

He gripped the seal tight, feeling the cold bite of metal against his skin.

— William (low, to himself): "This isn't just about power. It's about surviving long enough to wield it."

A chime broke the moment. Cold. Sharp.

— Iris: "Incoming communication. Althéa."

William didn't hesitate. The screen shifted, her face appearing calm, composed, eyes sharp. She was a re-flection of his strength. His will. His blade in the shadows.

— Althéa: "Master. Apologies for the late hour, but I bring news."

William's voice was steady, even if his pulse wasn't.

— William: "Speak."

Althéa nodded, her gaze flickering off-screen for a moment.

— Althéa: "I've gathered Avernus, Zera, and Doomfist. They've confirmed the first wave of fortifications is in place. The perimeter holds."

The tension in William's shoulders eased, but not by much.

— Althéa: "Zera's scouts confirm that Iris's strategy is unfolding as predicted. The lines are holding. No breaches yet."

Yet. The word lingered, sharp and dangerous.

— William: "And Doomfist?"

The screen shifted, revealing the heavy-set figure of the commander. His face was shadowed, but his eyes burned.

— Doomfist: "The forest is secure. Minor threats only. Nothing that requires immediate attention."

His voice was low, but beneath it, William sensed the unspoken threat. The tension of waiting. Of hunting.

— Althéa (with a small smile, teasing beneath the tension): "And you, Master? How fares the construction of our capital?"

William glanced toward the map, to the markers indicating his future city.

His legacy. His dream.

He allowed himself a rare, fleeting smile.

— William (voice low, resolute): "It's real. It's happening. Slow… but inevitable."

The glow of the screen reflected in his eyes, casting shadows that deepened the fire burning behind them. There was no hesitation there—only the steady, quiet hunger of a man who knew that empires were built not in days, but with patience and blood.

— Iris (her voice soft, almost reverent): "Not just a city. A foundation. The heart of an empire."

Althéa nodded, her gaze sharp, unwavering.

— Althéa (calm, assured): "It will be our strength. Our fortress. Our home."

A ripple of agreement echoed from the gathered commanders; their voices low but firm. It wasn't just a response—it was a vow. A promise forged in shadow and steel.

— Doomfist (his voice like stone): "It will stand long after we're gone."

— Zera (eyes gleaming): "And it will be ours to protect. To guard with blood and blade."

— Avernus (a sharp grin curving his lips): "And ours to conquer from. The edge from which we strike."

The screen dimmed, its cold light fading, leaving William alone with silence. But inside his mind, the fire still raged.

He stood, moving toward the window. The cold glass met his fingertips, a silent witness to the storm brew-ing within.

Beyond, darkness stretched endlessly, thick and heavy, cloaking the land that would soon bear his mark. A kingdom yet to be claimed. An empire yet to be forged.

His empire. His kingdom.

His legacy.

Tomorrow, they would sharpen their blades and steel their hearts. Tomorrow, they would take the next step—not just toward survival, but toward absolute domination.

And the world would remember the name that carved itself into history.

The name of Shinsengumi Oni.