As Chronicler prioritized talking a suicidal girl out of her misery, things in the Conference Center weren’t doing so great.

…

The pyramid building was leveled to the ground during the attack. Primus Jester wasn’t playing catch. He opted to crater the entire landmark to make a point. Most of the building was vaporized by Jester’s eldritch explosion and further damaged by flying debris. Few survived the hit, none were happy.

Sonovia Da Attra was among a few survivors. Her durable body withstood the building falling on top of her. The girl lifted the gigantic pieces of wood and Phantasian’s concrete off. Dust shook from her body as she struggled to get out of the ruins.

Beneath her, another survivor, Charon Sol, followed her like a damaged marionette.

They went to the crater that was the epicenter of the attack.

What they saw wasn’t an improvement.

…

Orwell surveyed the crater and did a quick mental headcount.

Ruho was fine behind him. He summoned his Adamakles — [Shock Spector] — to protect them both against the attack. By sticking with Orwell, the Dowager Consort upped her survival chance immensely.

Albert Starbright of Starland was screaming incoherently at the bloody stump of his leg. Lucky guy, if not for Mercia fainted beside him, the sniveling coward would be dead.

Rubric of the Iron Blood Army was fine beneath the flickering red barrier. The Divine Fist might be petulant, but they were often difficult to murder.

Xerxes blasted through the rubble; more pissed off than hurt. Orwell sighed. Like father, like daughter, some family came to town with nine lives. Although some people possessed nine lives to survive on their own, others needed to huddle. Moments before the disaster, Thalia Holyworth and Ophelia Runesea joined forces to erect a holy-magic enforced mystic-shield to protect themselves and the addition of Alexander Stride.

The rest didn’t make it out. The wimp — Agnus and Alan — tried to hide under the table. It was obvious a non-magical table wouldn't hold up against the explosion that sank the building comparable to the Pyramid of Giza. The only remains of their existence were a grinning skull and some fragments of bones.

The Jester, utterly unfettered, descends from the air with an applause.

“Glad to see our guests make it,” he soon noticed the bones. “Well, most of them anyway, but who cares? Those who died from this wimpy blast are pushovers.” The clown then turned to the sky. “And here comes the party.”

Like meteors, Fairies descended.

The Praetor of the Beast Clan — Kane; a towering four-meters high bulk of muscle and mane. He was built like a typical Lion-man except for several tubes drilled into his skull. Black piercings lined the rest of his body, sharpened like a champion among the street brawler. Like most fairies bar the clown, he wore no cloth and possessed no genitalia. It was the mark of a species with no need for reproduction or weakness against the element.

Landing beside Kane was another beast entirely — one cover in sheeted back armor hiding a red-tinge flesh and sadism; the Insect Clan’s Lord — Shandler. A scorpion tail brushed from his behind, carrying with it a deadly stinger. A long black tongue whipped out of the fanged mouth like a serpent. 

Six more landed beside their leader. They were the vanguard and the strongest commanding officer of the Beast Clan; the Tribunes.

The A — Apex — the humanoid beast with golden mane. He stood in silence behind his leader, letting out the aura of the alpha.

The B — Blood — the sentient pile of blood oozing into existence.

The C — Caster — the levitating cat with a Cheshire smile. Several gemstones were embedded on its joint like a bolt in a machine.

The E — Enigma — the black humanoid figure that seemed to be created from ever shifting clay.

The F — Fellsbane — the flaming wood. The creature resembled a floating flaming stump with five creepy eyes scanning five separate directions. It would fit right into the rank of biblically accurate angels.

The G — Glint — the robotic steel crab. Three glowing eyes shone from its body, assembling itself into a battle position.

There, in the ravaged corpse of the pyramid, the spearhead of the Fairy’s invasion convened.

“It is annoying to see you doing well Jester,” Kane — the Beast Praeteor — looked at the representative surrounding him. “So this is the Phantasian’s top dog gathering here. They look weak.” The Beast Praetor was disappointed. “This won’t be fun at all.”

Jester laughed, “Come on old chum. Be happier. I spent ten years on this project.”

Shandler the Insect Praetor joined the conversation, “Yes, great job you freak, but you missed the Anomaly. I can sense the fluctuation of space. That Acerbia guy got away from you.”

Jester shrugged, “He is a slippery one.”

Kane looked at Shandler, “Go and kill him.”

“You can’t order me around!” Shandler roared.

The air hummed with energies and a crimson sword-wave slashed toward the trio.

Red Blade Rubric slashed his sword once more, unleashing another sword-waves backed by the power of S-Rank. The two energy waves, big enough to wipe-out a football field and mowed down a block of building, headed toward the Fairies.

In response, Shandler booted the first energy wave, changing its direction skyward. As for the second, he deflected to the side with another kick, sending it crashing into a wooden skyscrapper. Within a blink, Shandler vanished at extreme speed.

Rubric felt his rib cracked as Shandler’s insectoid feet, containing biological properties of grasshopper juiced on the alien’s super soldier serum, caved his ribs from the side. Experiencing the force like he was tearing in half, Rubric’s body bent into a ‘V’ and went swooshing into the sky. He blasted upward. The Divine Fist’s representative slammed into another skyscraper several hundred meters away. 

Shandler spat as two mega-structures fell down in the thunderous destruction.

“This is boring,” Shandler dismissed the haunting nightmare of urban disaster he created. He gazed at the ‘bugs’ observing him with fear. “Fine, I am going after the Anomaly. It would be much more satisfying than these bugs. Hey Kane, when I come back, they should be properly domesticated.”

Thalia and Ophelia didn’t know what ‘domesticated’ meant, but the words sent shivers down their spine. Ruho, feeling disturbed, edged closer behind Orwell.

At his end, Xerxes didn’t worry about the future of losing. He was more petrified at the fact Rubric — the strongest among them — was brushed aside in one strike.

Shandler didn’t leave them any more though as he flew away at a hypersonic speed.

Jester turned the attention back to the floundering crowds.

“Well, well, well, let us pretend that little pause in the party never happened. I believe you are wondering what will we do. Simple. We are here to break you, dismantle every trace of pride you have. After you are thoroughly beaten into a docile state you deserve to be, you will be paraded-”

[Cryo Supreme]

The air chilled. Frost smothered the earth. Creaks sounded from the sudden drop in temperature, slowing the continuum of reality. The wall of cold covered the Fairies in a thin sheet of ice, reducing them into frozen sculptures.

The Conference’s attendees hadn’t been hit as hard by the freezing cold, but they felt it. Ophelia Runesea shuddered at the sudden drop in heat. Thalia exhaled the white mist from the freezing wave. The men still standing under the cold weren’t affected as much, but the sheer callousness they felt from the ice was overwhelming.

No one, not even Ruho under Orwell’s protection, was spared from the chilling side effect of the Arcane. 

Orwell witnessed his handiwork and felt insulted.

“Stop playing around,” Orwell said to the Fairy popsicle. “I know you put seven of your strongest here to fight me. You should be prepared for a little cold.” The skeleton armor of [Shock Spector] appeared, shielding Orwell and Ruho. “The boast only happens after you win.”

In response, the ice sculptures shattered, revealing the completely unharmed Fairies.

“Spoil sport,” Jester wasn’t amused. “Then again, it is why you are one of the three Anomalies we need to look out for in this invasion.” Jester mocked. “But don’t get so high on yourself. You are only No. 2.”

Orwell instantly worked whose were the others.

“Aside from me, it must be Acerbia and Dream. I see. Dream was right. You are plugged into the Malice. The No.1 must be the agent of your boss' arch-enemy.”

“That man will die soon,” Kane growled at his second-biggest threat. “Our troops are ordered to kill him on sight.”

Xerxes and the other representatives listened to the conversation and pieced the facts together.

Orwell and the enemies were aware of each other. This meant Orwell had prepared for the attack and kept the information from them.

“Mehest!” Runesea was bubbling about this subterfuge. “You know they will attack us!”

“I have a hunch,” Orwell said. “But I doubt you would take my word seriously. You were trying to make me your serf a few minutes ago, remember? The Divine Fist and I aren’t allies. I have no obligation to protect or inform you about anything.”

“Good,” Alexander Stride of the Grand Empire glared at his hated enemy. “You will be next once we deal with this inconvenience.” Then he pointed at Ruho. “You and the rest of Frisnia will be next.”

Thalia Holyworth and Ophelia Runesea said nothing, but their outrage couldn’t be clearer.

“Stop it!” Xerxes knew this was a bad idea. “Orwell, listen to me. I-”

Crack!

A Fairies Tribunes, the Apex, sped behind Xerxes and punted him with such momentum his body crashed into the crater’s wall and caused a miniature landslide.

Feeling sorry for Xerxes, Orwell answered the request that was never voiced.

“To answer your question Xerxes,” Orwell said, barely reacting as the two Fairies Commander — Fellsbane and Blood — flanked him. “You have a good idea, but I won't fight alongside those who will stab me from behind.” He also nodded to the shivering Ruho being shielded by his Adamakles. “Plus, I will need to deal with several S-Rankers, while trying to make sure my ally doesn't freeze to death. And it's not like they want to work with me either, right Alexander.”

Alexander couldn’t answer. He was too busy being body-slammed from above by a crab-like tank of metal and Fairy’s ferocity in the form of Fairy Tribunes — the G — Glint.

“I will take that as a no,” Orwell observed the two S-Rank Fairy containing him with their unique traits. “Good luck, old buddy, I hope your death wouldn’t be too nasty.”

…

Acerbia, one of the three Anomalies, watched the chaos from a distance.

As planned, the translocator did its job and moved him out of the mess. Acerbia felt the familiar pang of disappointment. The objective to have Orwell under his heel was shot to pieces, but that was the long shot. Acerbia knew Orwell was a fellow kindred spirit; an individual who detected the change in times and seized the opportunity.

For decades, the Isle of Knowledge was a producer of innovation, dancing delicate neutral tango with the shoes of mogul. Acerbia believed he could continue the tango forever, but who would do that? He had an aspiration; goals to reach. He knew there wouldn’t be a better opportunity to move from the thumb of the SCA and the Divine Fist.

Sacrifice must be made for any strategy. For this day, it meant burning the bridge connecting IK to the rest of the global powers. Acerbia considered this a fair trade. The Isle of Knowledge must evade the ruinous war with the Fea. Yes, the gods would eventually participate in the coming storm, but they would fail. The Fairies already possessed the method to counter even the likes of Zeus.

From the air, a mosquito drone flew to Acerbia.

Acerbia smiled, receiving his first samples. Yes, the long-shot of this meeting was dropped, but the short-term goal of his plan was going nicely.

Acerbia took out a voice-controlled switch and issued the order.

“Director Acerbia. Directive 1. Sample collection and diversion.”

…

The Rescue Team (Requiem, Ayla Orman, Lena Atalante)

The first to experience the consequence of Acerbia’s plotting was the Rescue Team. Requiem and Acropolis volunteers were holding down the fort while the Danghai’s polices evacuated the citizens.

Hundreds of Feas and a flying Centipede moveed against them, the trio were still taking names.

Requiem cut into an insectoid Fellow. He grabbed the second rabid Fea leaping in with a spear by its neck, and impaled it. The creature died with a gurgle. Not wasting any time, Requiem brandished the sword clad in the sheath of sharp winds and disemboweled the coming Predator Fairy coming at him.

‘Attack from above,’ the invisible voice of T warned.

Requiem spun around, sword cladded in mystic winds, and swiped javelins of eldritch energy from the air, exploding the attacks in a blooming spark of purple.

A sound of rapid gun-fires echoed, as Ayla did her part dancing across the battle. Blue freezing flames hot on her feet as she danced. Her foot shattered her foes into a shard of ice and her side arm picked more enemy with every shot.

Standing above a smoking train on Danghai’s commuting track, Atalante held her Lost Magus’ Mystic Arm. She aimed squarely at the flying Centipede and fired the vacuum beam, which exploded the insect into a pile of gunk. 

“Is that it?” Requiem said.

It was then several green shoots violently sprouted from the train track they were standing on.

Massive vines from a primordial age cracked the track of Phantasian’s concrete of the Danghai’s train line. At the advent of a falling tower, dusts and debris rose. Vines, like forest sea weeds, picked up the train Atalante was standing on and threw it at Ayla.

Ayla jumped over the train, which crashed behind her in an explosion, but a mighty whip of the vines flung her high into the air. The girl sailed right into the twentieth floor of the building above, causing the floor to erupt in dust and collision.

Requiem himself wasn't having an easier time. The plant picked up a massive block of concrete he had blasted into dust and threw it at him. Requiem bent over the flying environmental hazard like a game of tango. His mind drew blank at what was attacking him.

Like a ghost of conscience, T observed this strange plant attacking them.

‘This thing reminds me of a Reverse Beast, but I felt like I knew it.’

“Do you know how to kill it?” Requiem asked.

He never got an answer. A colorful flower emerged from the jungle of vines, glowing with energy.

Atalante, a sword with a feather-designed grip in hand, slashed the forest of vines apart and saw the glowing flower-bud.

“It is going to fire!” Atalante yelled and dove for cover.

The flower unfurled and spewed out the beam of energy, melting everything with intense heat and building in the very air.

Unable to evade in time, Requiem created a wall of air and concentrated upon his Mana to eat the attack.

[Aero Supreme]

The spherical shield received the baptism of energy. The air-pocket, enforced by Aura, glowed with heat. The shower of hot bio-plasma pushed Requiem back slowly, vaporizing the concrete around him and turned any remaining into a hot rock. The oxygen in the air should ignite by now, but Requiem’s Aura had advanced to where that wasn’t an issue.

And it wasn’t like his body needed air to breathe anyway.

The beam faded, leaving Requiem standing amid the glowing red ground, catching his breath.

It was a breath needed for a block of concrete the plant dug from the ground to hit Requiem like a cannonball. 

The concrete pitched by the giant plant sent him to an architecture resembling the ancient oriental palace made of wood. The trainee Knight of Horizon Dawn slammed into the historic landmark — The Frisnia Commercial Bank. It was a brutal trip. Requiem landed into the ornate wall of polish wood with the block on top of him, groaning from the hit.

Then a ball of familiar bio-plasma dropped on to the building. It exploded a bomb and buried Requiem beneath the rubble.

…

The lone Atalante confronted the gigantic flower as it rose to full height.

In the middle of a stalk, a person was embedded into the plant creature.

Atalante recognized the girl — Mamacia. She was a half-elf — a member of the 33 Star. Her skill with Alchemy was said to be second only to the Saint who helped found Acropolis. Personally, Atalante took offense that their Founder was ranked lower. The only things which made this impudent child above Cytortia was the fact that the Saint of Dawn was a pacifist, while Mamacia was a spoiled homicidal brat.

This one recognition made the culprit of her arrival transparent.

“Acerbia!” Atalante cursed and brandished her Adamakles — the [Feather Edge].