Armin stood atop the stone balcony of the fortress, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon where clouds brewed like a warning. The wind carried with it the distant hum of mobilizing armies—armies that belonged to the very nations now conspiring against him. His cloak billowed behind him as he turned to face his two most trusted generals—Kliner and Maverick—who stood nearby, awaiting his command.
"They're planning to start a war against us, aren't they?" Armin said, his tone calm but edged with cold certainty.
Kliner crossed his arms, his face grim. "There's no doubt. The world leaders didn't take your message seriously. If anything, they saw it as a threat. They think you're just trying to scare them into submission. I don't think they understood the true warning."
Armin sighed, shaking his head slightly. "Of course they didn't. They still believe in their illusion of control. They think they can destroy me like I'm some tyrant trying to rise above them." He looked out again at the clouds, eyes narrowing. "But they'll see. When it appears—if only for a few seconds—it'll be enough to shatter their perception. The moment they witness it with their own eyes, the whole world will panic. They'll finally realize that this isn't about politics or power anymore. They'll either join us… or die."
Maverick stepped forward, frowning. "Then maybe we need to end this global resistance before we move into Phase Two. We can't proceed while the world is still in chaos. Too many moving pieces. Too much noise. If we let them gather strength, it'll slow us down."
Armin glanced at Maverick. "You're right. But what do you suggest? Launch an assault on every nation? Burn their capitals to the ground?"
Maverick shook his head. "No. We don't need to start another war. We just need a reminder. Something swift. Something that shows them how powerless they really are. One strike—one devastating message."
Kliner added, "And maybe… you should consider how we deal with the recruits. Many of them have been training with one purpose—to defeat you. They may be young, but their determination is dangerous. Some of them already suspect the truth. Others are more skilled than we anticipated."
Armin turned, his golden eyes narrowing. "I don't give a damn about them. Let them train. Let them sharpen their blades and fuel their courage with dreams of justice. None of it will matter. No matter how strong they become, they can't kill me. Not in this lifetime."
Maverick raised an eyebrow. "Don't be so cocky, Armin. You've seen it yourself. Some of them are special. That boy—Sheath—he awakened something. He's not the same as the others."
Armin's lips curled into a faint smile. "Then let him come. Let them all come. If any one of them can kill me, I'll die laughing. But until then, their resistance is a game—one I've already mastered."
Kliner tilted his head, frowning at Armin's defiance. "You say that now. But pride can become a weakness."
"I'm not proud," Armin replied. "I'm realistic. I know what I am. I've felt it growing inside me since the day this all began. I don't fear their armies, their weapons, or their leaders. And I don't fear those children training in shadows, whispering about rebellion. They think they're fighting a man. They have no idea what's coming."
The three men stood in silence for a moment. The wind howled past the towers, rustling the banners of Armin's domain—dark and ominous symbols of a power rising beyond comprehension.
Maverick finally broke the silence. "Then it's decided. We send a message. A single strike to show them what we're capable of. Something they can't ignore."
Armin nodded. "Let it be done. And when they come crawling back, asking for help, begging for answers… we'll see who they choose to follow."
Kliner looked at him carefully. "And if they don't come back? If they decide to fight to the end?"
Armin's eyes glowed with a flicker of something ancient, something cold. "Then they'll burn with the rest of the world. Because this isn't about diplomacy or conquest anymore. This is about survival. And I've already chosen which side I'm on."
Kliner and Maverick exchanged glances. They had followed Armin through every battle, every uprising, and every shadowy secret that had led them here. But even they felt the growing unease of what lay ahead. The world was about to change forever—and Armin had placed himself at the center of that storm.
As the sky darkened and thunder rumbled in the distance, the decision was made. The final phase was about to begin. And whether the world united or collapsed, Armin would face it on his terms.
Let them come. Let them fight. The reckoning had already begun.
As the final hour approached, the world could no longer remain idle. The name Armin echoed across nations, no longer as a man, but as a symbol of growing fear, unchecked power, and potential annihilation. Governments that once hesitated now united under a single cause — to put an end to Armin's reign and reclaim control over the territory he had taken. Diplomats stopped speaking. Peace talks dissolved into silence. War was declared.
Across continents, military bases sprang into action. Millions of soldiers were deployed — a force unlike anything seen in generations. Convoys of tanks rolled across cities and plains, shaking the ground beneath them. Airfields buzzed with relentless activity as fleets of aircraft prepared for their largest coordinated assault. Enormous airships loomed in the skies like dark omens, ready to descend upon Rimore, the capital city under Armin's control.
To the outside world, this city was no longer just a political center — it was a fortress. A symbol of defiance. A mystery that had to be unraveled with fire and steel.
Intelligence reports had painted Armin as a tyrant in the making, someone who possessed knowledge and power far beyond conventional understanding. But what terrified world leaders even more was the unknown. Rumors of supernatural abilities, stories of an army that had unwavering loyalty, and whispers of something darker — something that no human army could hope to face.
Yet, fear was not enough to stop them now.
From the north, legions of soldiers marched through the frozen valleys. From the east, amphibious ships crossed the seas, bringing thousands of troops to the shores closest to Rimore. From the south and west, mobile artillery units and armored columns advanced at speed. Satellites tracked every movement, commanders barked orders into radios, and the air hummed with the tension of an impending global clash.
Inside war rooms, holographic maps displayed the operation with cold precision. Red markers spread across the digital terrain like veins of blood — each one representing a military division moving closer to the capital. Drone footage showed eerie calm within Rimore. No panic. No civilian evacuations. Just silence.
"He's waiting for us," said one general to a room of officers.
"Good," another replied. "We'll bring the storm."
Meanwhile, in the capital itself, Armin stood atop the central tower of the Citadel, his gaze fixed on the horizon. His golden eyes, always calm, held a glint of something more — not fear, not anger, but anticipation. The wind tugged at his cloak as he listened to the distant, thunderous rumble of the approaching armies.
"They've finally decided," he murmured.
Kliner, his long-time ally and strategist, stood beside him, arms crossed. "The world's coming at us with everything they've got. We'll be outnumbered at least a hundred to one. We're not ready for a siege of this scale."
"They won't reach the gates," Armin replied.
Maverick entered the tower chamber moments later, holding the latest intelligence update. "The airspace around the capital is filling up. Twenty-two aircraft carriers on the sea. Armored divisions will breach the outer ring in less than thirty-six hours."
Kliner scoffed. "This is what happens when you warn them and they ignore it."
Armin nodded slowly. "They didn't listen. They still think this is about land, about power. They don't understand what's coming. We need to make them see."
Maverick glanced at him. "Phase Two?"
"Yes," Armin said. "It's time."
Kliner hesitated. "If you unleash it now, even for a second, the whole world will know it's real. There's no turning back after that."
"There never was," Armin replied. "Let them see it. Let them realize what they've truly provoked. After that, they'll either join us or perish."
Across the capital, Armin's forces were already preparing. His soldiers — loyal, disciplined, and oddly calm — took their positions not in fear but in purpose. Recruits who had once been spies were either eliminated or fled. His inner circle had been purged of uncertainty. And at the heart of the Citadel, in the deepest chamber, something ancient stirred — the true power Armin had warned the world about.
Meanwhile, Sheath remained unconscious in a guarded chamber, recovering from his awakening. His friends, injured but alive, stood watch over him, unaware of the global storm that was about to crash upon them.
Back across the battlefield, the invading forces finally reached the outskirts of Rimore. Tanks locked into formation. Fighters soared into attack positions. The first wave of soldiers advanced. And then — everything stopped.
A pressure filled the air.
The clouds above the city swirled unnaturally. A blinding flash split the sky — and from it, emerged a figure cloaked in shadows, wings made of crackling energy, its presence overwhelming. It wasn't Armin. It was something else. Something otherworldly. Something summoned.
Every soldier felt it. Panic spread faster than gunfire. Communications broke down. Some dropped their weapons. Others ran.
And from the Citadel, Armin watched the chaos unfold.
"They thought they came to destroy me," he said. "But they've only awakened what comes next."
In the quiet of their camp, tension hung thick in the air. The distant rumble of engines and the steady hum of global war preparations made it clear — the world was moving, and it was moving against them.
Kale broke the silence. "The whole world is uniting to kill Armin… and by extension, us. This might be our only chance. While he's busy fighting off a global army, we could strike from within. Backstab him when his guard is down. It's now or never."
Lira looked over, her expression hardened. "You're not wrong, but you're forgetting one thing — we have to survive that long first. This war is bigger than us."
Rein crossed his arms, pacing. "And what will the rest of the world think if we try something like that? We've been in Armin's ranks since the beginning. As far as they're concerned, we're the enemy too."
Kale sighed. "We need to find a way to end this. Armin is too dangerous to be left alive. If we don't stop him now, no one else will be able to."
Lira's gaze drifted to the tent where Sheath lay, still unconscious from his battle against Ashen. "Even if we move against Armin… we can't let anyone know about Sheath. Not yet."
Rein nodded solemnly. "One of the nations already knows. At least one. If that spreads…"
Isame looked between them. "So, what do we do then? Hide Sheath? Or let him fight when the time comes?"
Lira hesitated, weighing every possibility. "It's complicated. If he awakens again, we might actually stand a chance — even against a united world army. But you've seen what it does to him. His powers drain him too fast. He'll burn out long before their forces do."
Kale added, "And with millions of soldiers out there, even Sheath won't last long if they swarm him. He's powerful, sure, but he's not invincible."
Lira nodded. "That's why we can't let him fight unless it's absolutely necessary. For now, we protect him. We keep him hidden, out of the spotlight. But if things start falling apart… if Armin begins to turn the tide or we start losing control of the battlefield… then we let Sheath take over."
Isame sat down, running his fingers through his hair. "I don't like any of this. We're gambling with the fate of the world and the life of our friend."
"We don't have a choice," Lira said quietly. "Sheath is the only one we've seen actually defeat someone like Ashen — and Ashen wasn't even close to Armin in terms of power. If Sheath has something inside him, something that even Armin fears, then we need to be smart about how we use it."
Rein narrowed his eyes. "You think Armin knows?"
"Probably," Lira replied. "He's not stupid. He must've sensed it during Sheath's awakening. If he doesn't know exactly what Sheath is capable of, he at least knows there's something special about him."
Kale muttered, "Then we're sitting on a time bomb. If Armin finds out how much of a threat Sheath really is, he won't wait. He'll eliminate him before we get the chance to do anything."
Lira looked to the sky, now streaked with smoke trails from distant aircraft. "Then we need to act first."
Rein walked over to a map spread on a crate. "If the world's armies breach Rimore, there's going to be chaos. That might be the perfect window to make our move. While everyone's distracted, we hit Armin — not from the front, but from behind, when he's not expecting it."
"Coordinated, clean, fast," Kale said. "We'll only get one shot."
"And what about the world's forces?" Isame asked. "What if they attack us too? What if they don't care that we turned on Armin?"
"They probably won't care," Lira admitted. "To them, we're traitors — or worse, unknowns with dangerous potential. But if we take Armin down ourselves, we might be able to negotiate. We might be able to prove we were never loyal to him."
Kale raised a brow. "And if we fail?"
Lira looked back toward Sheath's tent. "Then we release the final card."
The camp fell silent again. Outside, the ground shook faintly as distant bombs fell somewhere near the outskirts of the capital. The war was no longer approaching — it had begun.
Lira stood tall, determination returning to her posture. "Prepare your gear. We're going to stay hidden for now, but we need to be ready at a moment's notice. If the opportunity presents itself, we take it. We finish what this world couldn't."
Everyone nodded, though the weight of the decision settled on them like armor too heavy to carry. They were no longer just survivors or rebels. They were the only ones close enough to Armin to end him — and the only ones foolish or brave enough to try.
And beneath the canvas of the healing tent, Sheath stirred ever so slightly, as if his soul already sensed the war waiting for him outside.
A formal message was dispatched from the global council to the commanders of the United Army — a force forged by dozens of allied nations, unified by one purpose: the downfall of Armin and the liberation of Rimore.
The message read:
"To all commanding officers of the United Army,Your mission to engage Armin and his forces will commence one week from today. This decision has been carefully made by the world leaders after extensive deliberation.
We understand the urgency of the situation, but this delay is not a sign of hesitation — it is a strategic move to strengthen our unity and increase the chances of victory.
During this week, we expect all participating nations to focus on inter-unit collaboration, joint training exercises, and strategic alignment. Soldiers from different countries must learn to work seamlessly with one another, both in combat and communication. The battlefield we are entering will be unlike anything we have faced before. Armin is not merely a political threat — he is a force of chaos with capabilities that defy conventional warfare.
This week is an opportunity to share knowledge, learn tactics from one another, and build trust within the ranks. The mission ahead demands precision, discipline, and above all, cohesion. Every misstep could cost lives and weaken our global front.
Let this be a time of preparation, not just in arms, but in unity. The strength of this army lies not only in its numbers or technology, but in the collaboration of nations who once stood divided.
We urge you to use this time wisely. Familiarize your soldiers with those they will be fighting beside. Hold simulations, revise strategies, and eliminate confusion. By the time we march, we must act not as a group of nations, but as one unified force.
May this week forge the strength we need for the battle to come. Victory will not be given — it must be earned together."**
The message was clear. The countdown had begun — seven days to build trust, refine tactics, and prepare for a war that would reshape the world.
In camps spread across the outskirts of Rimore, soldiers read the message with a mix of anticipation and tension. For many, it was the calm before the storm. And for Armin, whether he knew it or not, the world was no longer waiting — it was organizing, adapting, and closing in.