They Don't Fight, But They Don't Leave

Reed was silent for too long.

He listened.

Watched.

Knew the forms that chose to stay, to be silent, or to not participate.

And he respected it.

But something inside him burned.

Not out of hatred.

Not out of ambition.

But because he knew:

Some forms will not grow

unless the old world is destroyed to its foundations.

In the central chamber of Adrasteia,

Rina and Shia stood on opposite sides of the table.

Data from the gray zone continued to pour in.

But Reed just stared at the map of the Faction world.

The boundaries were still bright.

Still haughty.

Still standing as if nothing could touch them.

"Enough," he said quietly.

"We've let the world choose.

Now it's our turn

to show what

the forms that refuse to be forgotten look like."

Rina stared at him sharply.

Shia didn't speak.

"Are you sure?" Rina asked.

"You want war…