The attendant dropped off the duo at the end of the road that merged into the steps going up to the main lobby of Command. Outside of the car, Joran could hear the tumultuous clamor of the city resonate throughout, reminding him of the Assembly for a split moment before shifting his attention to Drekor beside him.

“Well.. Shall we, then?”

With a warm nod, Drekor led Joran up the marble slabs, people bristling by them, without a care for who they were. On the one hand Joran was put off by this, but on the other, he would always welcome a brief respite from what he still considered a cursed fame.

“They don’t care much for anything other than profit. That or the military carrying out their orders. You could say that the finest of the Metropolis are really here as far as Suekamikou and Gouriki goes.”

Joran smirked jovially, “What, and then it’s the sketchiest merchants? Is that what you’re shirking around?”

Waving him off, as if impatient, Drekor opened one of the many entryways into the building proper, leading them into the main lobby. The immediate difference for Joran was the color. The Crown City Precinct was dull, pale beige. Lifeless was a decent description. But the Command Center’s main lobby was illustrious with a gold radiance. The light that emanated from the walls and ceiling were golden, and the floors were marble painted with a deep gold shine.

But more importantly, the clamor died down immediately after the door closed behind them. There was almost a sense of reverence that cut Joran’s breath away for a moment as he was staggered by this sudden change.

Drekor was waiting for this and stifled his giddy laughter, “I figured it would be better to show, not tell! Since this city only allows people who are permitted to operate under mercantile guilds or under the military’s orders, there are no… Shall we say, the rowdier folks we might have seen in other cities?”

Joran gave a sidelong dubious glance before scanning the lobby itself. He could see several clerks handling different types of people. Some in long drapes and clothes which were made of wool or something extravagant like such. Others were in straight uniforms, some branded with silver on their shoulders, others with red bands on their wrists.

He looked back to Drekor and sighed, “It’s… a different atmosphere to be sure… You know, I still don’t entirely agree with your father.”

They began walking towards a random line to wait in for their turn up to one of the clerks, the lines were orderly fashioned, the people calm and collected, even if they bristly checked their paperwork or watch.

Drekor cocked an eyebrow at Joran, unsure of what he was referring to, “… About the Bloodhounds?”

Joran looked around in panic as Drekor spoke openly, before Drekor pat his shoulder, “Dude, I just told you, people here only care about following orders, or line their guilds’ coffers with valuable ore and minerals from the Borderlands.”

“… Right. Erm… Yeah, the… The Bloodhounds,” Joran’s eyes still flicked around nervously, while confirming Drekor’s suspicions.

“Well, I for once have to agree. Leaving them in their position seems like a poor joke. We find out that they are somehow plotting for the downfall of the Metropolis, but we let them stand tall as the Bloodhounds, the ‘Guardians of the Cities’. It’s a little sickening to think about,” Drekor’s face was scrunched up in distaste at this point.

Joran nodded with each statement said, “That’s exactly what I think, which is wh-“

“Which is why we’re not the Realm Monarch,” Drekor cut off Joran’s rebellious thoughts at their roots, shaking his head, “It’s his decision. The other regions might outstrip us in strength and power, but even they have to admit that the Idaten’s way of governance has paid off tenfold. Such a large population would be most likely impossible for the Borderlands to sustain, to say nothing of the Mage Isles. A decision has to weigh in all those people; the burden of that choice weighs on him, while people like us stand aside and criticize him whichever way he goes.”

Joran’s face flushed red as he looked away, “I-I didn’t mean to…”

“I know you didn’t,” Drekor chuckled, gripping Joran’s shoulder to make him look back at him, “But think about that once in a while.”

“…” Joran nodded, and they finally filed up to the front of the line, so they walked up to the clerk’s desk, which had a glass window barring direct contact between the duo and her.

With a practiced smile, the clerk looked up and asked, “How can I help you today?”

Reciprocating the smile, Drekor bowed slightly, “We’re here to see Commander Saum. I am Drekor and this is Joran. I’m unsure if the appointment was made known so soon.”

“Let me see…” In a flash, the clerk looked through her paperwork, and just as she was about to look up to deny the appointment being made, a medium, stocky man walked down one of the two sets of steps that spiraled down from the upper level of the lobby, speaking up just enough for the trio to hear him as his feet hit the marble of the main floor.

“I wasn’t made aware that you would be returning so soon. Forgive this one for not being able to prepare properly,” the gentleman spoke in a deep bass.

Joran could immediately tell that the man before him was likely Commander Saum. Whether his time around the leaders in the Assembly or just simply through the various experiences he’s had in the Metropolis gave it away, he wasn’t sure. All he knew was this man stood regally, in a different manner from Reigan. More solemn than proud.

The man wore a dark green suit, that was sharp and without any extraneous details, his slacks stopped where his shined black boots came into view. He held his hands together behind his back as he approached Joran and Drekor, a straight face that commanded respect.

Drekor shook his head cordially, “No, think nothing of it, Commander. Our arrival was wholly unprepared to begin with. We’ve come with ill tidings and other portents.”

“Come.”

Joran waved to the clerk with a warm smile, who reciprocated the friendliness before attending to the next person. Turning away from her, Joran followed the duo that strode in sync in front of him. His eyes wandered around as they turned onto the steps towards the upper level. Up here, there were tables and more people waiting no doubt for audiences they sought for with various people for whatever issues. The main interest was the sole door in the middle of the wall at the end of this section of the lobby.

The trio walked onwards to it, just as people were pouring out of the elevator to attend to the said people waiting, leaving the elevator empty for them alone. Saum turned to Drekor and gestured him in, and looked to Joran and offered him the way in.

Nodding, Joran stepped in, taking one of the sides and looked around him in the cool blue elevator they were now in. Saum closed the door and then they began shuttling upwards in what was no doubt the tower section of the Command Center.

It was then that Saum finally spoke up, “If you’re here to tell us about an incoming assault by the Beasts, we’ve been aware of the possibility, and have already begun preparing.”

Definitely the best of the best, Joran mused to himself.

Drekor smiled grimly, “That’s part of it. We’ve also come to bear news of the Bloodhound Clan harboring traitors in their midst. Assuming they aren’t all traitors to begin with.”

At this Saum raised an eyebrow, but didn’t show emotion otherwise, “Interesting. Ruben didn’t seem to be the kind to turn on his own people. But there is more to a snake than just the head.”

“We also have reason to believe the assault will be larger than the conflict that had erupted in Inven. It seems that each occurrence of the Invasion has been in scale to the region it’s attacking A lone behemoth Beast in Adpol, a full-on skirmish in Inven. If there’s a pattern to it, then Sentinalus will bear the brunt of the largest attack no doubt.”

At this point, they had parted from the enclosed surroundings of the lower section of the Command Center, the city of Sentinalus now on full display through the glass encasing that the elevator was in. The trio instinctively turned to see the movement of the city as they gradually climbed up to their destination.

Saum responded curtly, “Crown Prince, we were able to assume that we would be bearing an attack soon. To assume there’s a pattern to these mindless beasts, however, is simply ludicrous. They are beasts to cull. Nothing more.”

Joran shook his head as he absentmindedly looked onto the view, “They’re not just mindless. They’re organized. Precise. And they have humans directing them wherever they seem to need to be.”

Joran left out the Siren in his statement, but that was the source of his conviction now. He firmly believed that the Invasion was something she orchestrated, he turned to look at Saum, who was looking back at him curiously.

“Take this seriously, Commander. I’ve seen enough people die needlessly. The least we can do is prepare properly.”

Saum frowned but before saying anything, studied Joran for a moment, before turning to Drekor, “Well. I can see why you spoke so highly of your friend, the Joker, here,” He turned back to Joran, his eyes softening slightly, “It seems you haven’t been coddled in the crown’s nest during this Invasion. It would seem you have firsthand experience in what’s happened, so I would like to hear it from you.”

The sudden turn to respect put Joran off, but he did as was asked, recounting everything that had happened in the last week or so; meticulously avoiding the details of the Siren in any way he could.

During the explanation, they had entered the Tower section of the Command Center, the people here were distinctly all soldiers. Many stationed at various consoles, and many more still that were stationed at radios, communicating back and forth with various different groups and companies no doubt. The view was no less breath taking from here, a clear pane of glass that was placed cleanly around the entire Tower’s wall, giving a full annular view of the cityscape that surrounded them. Being a little higher than the second level of the city, Joran could see bustling of people along the sky bridges, along the pathways near the section of the wall they were closest to, everywhere he turned there were people bustling about.

By the time they had settled into a few chairs at an open cubicle that was clearly Saum’s office, Joran had just finished talking about the encounter underground with the goblins and Bloodhounds.

Saum chuckled to himself, “Getting them drunk on the scent of goblin bloods… That was pretty risky.”

Joran shrugged meekly, “I… I really just did what could’ve been done.”

“I don’t doubt that. So that brings you two here. The concern of this assault being unprecedented and the news of scheming thieves in Crown City.”

Drekor and Joran looked at each other, sharing a look, before Drekor replied, “Yeah, that about sums it up. We needed to move discreetly to avoid any unwanted attention on the matter.”

“Well, you two coming here would undoubtably still be noticed.”

Drekor smugly replied, “I’ve been here before to handle my father’s work here. And Joran has been quite obviously taking a tour around the cities, so we took advantage of that fact.”

Joran glanced sidelong in confusion, “We did?”

“See? If he didn’t know any better, how could anyone else have?” Drekor laughed as Joran punched his shoulder mercilessly.

“… I see,” Saum spoke somewhat amused at the interaction, “Well, any advice from the Joker and Crown Prince would be welcomed at this point.”

It was then that Joran spoke in a rather serious manner, “I saw there were no actual soldiers patrolling within the city walls. We need to make sure there’s a presence inside in case something happens like Adpol.”

Silence permeated within the trio in an awkward manner, putting Joran off uncomfortably as he glanced back and forth between their skeptical looks.

Saum finally broke the silence with an incredulous question, “Do you… not know how teleportation works?”

At this, Joran spoke defensively, “… Do you?”

Saum went wide eyed in offense before Drekor interrupted, “Commander, uhm… Joran never actually finished Class in the Central Districts.”

“… What? That’s actually true?”

Joran sighed in defeat as his rather morally ambiguous past gets brought up again, “Yeah… I only attended Class a total of 10 times. 10 days.”

Saum studied both of their faces, unsure if they were being serious, until finally he sat back in his chair, unfurling his hands in front of him, as if gesturing to a magnificent piece of art in front of him, “… Wow.”

Drekor snickered while Joran frowned as he blushed, “Forgive me, you two, but how does that pertain to this conversation?”

Saum folded his arms again, and explained flatly, “Simple, the Central Districts talks briefly on the workings of each region, and the workings and basis of how certain things operate. For example, teleportation.”

Joran looked back over to Drekor, dubiously cocking an eyebrow, to which Drekor smiled and nodded, “Yes, there were some pretty interesting things you missed out on. But I guess learning about it this way is just as cool.”

Saum continued, “Teleportation is a sort of tunnel. You have a point ‘A’ and a point ‘B’. So logically, you need to have the route mapped out. You can’t just dig a pathway and hope you’ll land exactly where you’re supposed to go.”

Joran’s eyes lit up with understanding, “So that’s what the runes were for in the underground room.”

Saum nodded, “Good, you at least pick up on things quickly.”

“Yeah I get that a lot, apparently…” Joran briefly mused to himself.

“Anyways, what you’re suggesting they’ll do is dig the tunnel from one end and hope it’ll be in the correct place at the end. If they did that for trying to get into the city, I mean…” He gestured to the walls, the invariably cramp-ness of the city itself, “It’s more likely they’d just blink into the walls and not exactly be a threat.”

“… But they can still do it,” Joran emphasized that it was still possible.

“Well yes and no. It’s easier to pick up someone and teleport them back to the person trying to do the teleportation. Like the goblins you saw being teleported to the underground chamber that you saw the boy in. A predetermined place, at a predetermined time, and boom, they can get transported more easily, less of a burden overall as well. But trying to do it the other way around is not only reckless, it’s nearly impossible. I believe only Asher is capable of that.”

“… Who?”

Drekor cleared his throat, “Ahem, the Grand Mage of the Seiki Sect, the Mages that are adept at teleportation.”

Joran nodded slowly to that, and then it clicked, “Wait, so this means there are others consorting with the Bloodhounds?”

Saum pinched his nose, sighing in a slight lack of patience, “Joker, you really aren’t going to inspire any confidence if you’re this behind on things.”

“… Don’t sound like the Chief, please.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Ugh… Never mind, it’s nothing…” Now Joran was pinching his nose.

Drekor chimed in, “It’s also just possible there are members of the Bloodhound clan that were placed in other organizations after the Central Districts that still retained loyalty with their former clan.”

“… That sounds just as sinister, if not more.”

Saum nodded grimly, his hands clasped together on his desk, “It implies that this has been in the works for a much longer time than a few years. Maybe even a plan birthed decades ago.”

Drekor continued, “Regardless, the objective then is to make sure the city is safe. Since it’s specifically Sentinalus, can we maybe turn to the Borderland Guilds for aid?”

Saum snorted, throwing his hands up, “Pretty much only if the Beasts get in the way of the trading merchants. Okeanos Guild is somewhat amicable to the gesture at least. I’d assume it was more of a pride thing to keep the inland sea clear of sea monsters than anything else, though.”

“It’s more than nothing,” Drekor offered as optimistic consolation.

Joran thought to himself, if the Bloodhounds were putting up runes for moving Beasts en masse, it makes sense that Inven had such a large force then. Same for the smaller forces that no doubt were filtering into the sewers and catacombs. But there were doubtlessly none of those runes out here in Sentinalus. Otherwise it would not have been such a discreet ruse the Bloodhounds had put up.

Coming to this, he scrunched his brows, “Wait, so if they can’t come by the sea… How would they get here without getting disrupted by the Earthen Guild?”

Without hesitation, Saum replied, “Easy, they still come by sea. The Okeanos Guild isn’t that large in comparison to the overreach that Yamatsumi can establish in Raium, so even if they repel Sea Serpent Basilisks and whatever else, there’s a very probable chance some will make it through with a large assortment of Beasts for us to deal with on them. Besides, they have plenty of airpower.”

Joran slumped back in his chair, pondering, while Drekor continued the thread of the topic, “Years ago, the Cities were more compact with each other, with little in the way of defenses. We never necessarily needed them. We would be barraged with attacks, yes, but they were never anything we couldn’t handle. Ardenta, and certainly not Sentinalus had existed yet, just rudimentary countryside of residences and farmland all the way until the sea and Wasteland. That is, until the Invasion…”

Saum interjected crassly, his eyes staring off into space, “At first we thought it was a storm cloud.”

Joran’s eyes snapped back to the man in front of him, who now clearly seemed in a trance of recollection. It was then that he realized Saum was much older than he had initially appeared to Joran.

“My patrol and I were only supposed to go halfway out to the trading outpost, where the merchants went to trade with the Borderland Guilds before Sentinalus. But Grant kept saying we should go mess with the merchants. ‘Take a thing or two as a prank,’ or so he said,” Saum chuckled absentmindedly as he shook his head subtly, “But of course, it wasn’t a good day for that.”

Silence descended after that last bit Saum spoke. Drekor and Joran were both aware of how horrific the Invasion had been written down, Drekor especially keen on the event given his Father’s position. But hearing someone recount it was unsettling in its own right. Even more so that they were either near or on top of the place that it had happened, 30 years ago.

Saum looked back at the duo, his eyes open and clear again, “Only a few made it out. My squad gave up their spots for as many people they could muster into the jeep we had. But they had me take off once the screams began to come. From the merchants at the far end of the outpost. Of the screeches from the Beasts,” With this, he shook his head to stop himself from thinking any more and clear his throat, “Well. I went off on a bit of a tangent, but you get the idea. The Realm Monarch made the right choice to erect a bastion here. Both as a message to the Beasts and the Borderlands alike. ‘We will not suffer the same fate.’”

Joran’s eyes were filled with complicated emotions, solemn and forlorn, “I’m sorry, Saum.”

He chuckled and brushed it off, “What for? It never gets easier—”

“’We just get used to it.’”