The KGFH headquarters approached the quality of an inhospitable fortress-an edifice generally reflecting stark efficiency and steel-eyed routine-now throbbing with a taste-able tension thick enough to taste. An electric hum whispered through the walls and vibrated in the bones of even the most battle-hardened hosts.
Lights glimmered from command center brightness; cool tactical displays cast a discord and bleary glimmer over a table of obsidian black, where ten figures sat-these ten figures being Korea's finest, at its most formidable champions.
At its highest peak sat Jhin Won, Level 32 Shadow Master, the undisputed strongest Host in the nation. He sat with unnerving stillness-a black hole of calm where the anguished eddies made their round in the hall. His presence did not command the room-it consumed it.
And before them stood Director Han Ji-soo-a woman usually fabulously composed-but of late a hint of shaking could be heard from her crisp government garb.
A holographic map shimmered into being behind her, casting the pulverized mountains west of Seoul in bruised, grim colors.
"As you can see," she said, "the damage has proven unprecedented in its scale."
She allowed time for the room to digest the evidence of torn land, the gouge earth, and melted stone.
"Our initial analysis, based on the scope and nature of the destruction, indicates a Diamond-Class monster threat."
Murmurs broke out immediately. Not loud. But sharp. Diamond-Class monsters weren't threats—they were extinction-level events. Apocalyptic entities prophesied to appear only at the grim three-month mark of the Ascension Royale.
The game had just ticked past its second month.
Director Han's eyes usually blades of discipline, now swept the room with a flicker of unease.
"Such a threat, manifesting this early... with this kind of raw power... suggests one thing: a Highly Intelligent Monster. An HI-MONSTER."
Another flick of her wrist, and the display zoomed in—showing surgical gouges in the terrain, vitrified earth, and unnaturally clean craters. The destruction wasn't chaotic. It was deliberate.
"While HI-MONSTERS typically emerge from within the Caves of the Forgotten, we cannot rule out the possibility of their appearance elsewhere. Given the evidence… the most probable explanation is a Golden-Class HI-MONSTER."
The air snapped with static as Kim Hyun-woo, Level 29 Darkseer, let out a scoff. Purple sparks danced around his fingertips—residual energy from his Egyptian patron, Set, the Lord of Chaos. He reclined in his chair, cocky grin stretching across his face like a blade too sharp to hide.
"A monster, huh? Director, can you pinpoint its location?"
He cracked his knuckles. The sound was like gunfire in the tense silence.
"Because I want it. I want it known, across every channel, across every realm, that this one belongs to me. The faster I end it, the better—for my reputation... and for the spectacle."
Before anyone could reply, Lee Da-eun rolled her eyes hard enough to make the lights flicker.
Level 30 Blood Strider. Seventh strongest among the KGFH. Her divine patron, Mago, Grandmother Goddess of Creation, hummed quietly beneath her skin in a ripple of blood-red glow.
"Oh, calm down, Hyun-woo. Always so eager for the spotlight, aren't we?"
Her tone was dry enough to start a wildfire.
"We don't even know what we're fighting yet, and you're already posing like a headless goliath on a caffeine binge."
A low chuckle escaped from the far side of the table, where Choi Do-hyun sat—Level 32 Engineer, Korea's second strongest Host.
He adjusted his glasses with a soft whir of servo-motors. The voice of Daedalus, Divine Artificer, echoed in his mind as complex formulas flickered across his vision like arcane runes.
"Director," he said, polite but firm. "I must respectfully disagree with the current classification."
He rose slightly and gestured to the holographic destruction.
"If you look closely… the precision, the focused incineration—it's almost identical to what my own constructs produce."
A schematic bloomed beside the map—matching the scarred mountains to the strike patterns of high-tier mechanized weaponry.
"We're looking at directed energy beams. Vitrification of soil. Atomization of plant life. This is not a monster. This is tech. And not just any tech. Advanced mechanized constructs—far more powerful than anything we've previously documented."
A hush fell over the room. Not silence—shock. The kind that makes people forget how to breathe.
"Impossible..." someone muttered from the back. A tactical analyst. Pale. Eyes wide.
"All Hosts in Korea are registered. If not, they're… dealt with. There's no grey area."
Do-hyun didn't flinch.
"Which leaves us with only two possibilities," he said, voice steady. "Either there's an unknown Host who developed this power in complete secrecy, or… we're dealing with a foreign Host. One operating entirely outside our detection grid."
From across the table, Jung Min-seok, Level 30 Ocularis Seer, frowned deeply. His gaze—usually ablaze with the chaotic visions of Shango, the African God of Thunder and Justice—now clouded with confusion.
"That can't be right…" he murmured. "My god's eye sees all—every Host, every divine ripple, every spiritual disturbance within two hundred kilometers."
He swallowed hard.
"I was there that day. Near the city. I saw nothing. No Host. No signature. Not even a divine flicker."
All eyes turned to Jhin Won.
The Shadow Master hadn't moved an inch. But now, his voice—a quiet blade—cut through the room like moonlight over a still lake.
"But we can't be absolutely sure, can we?"
He turned his gaze toward Min-seok, then Do-hyun. There was something ancient in his stare, something cold.
"For all we know, there may exist… someone. Or something. A Host capable of hiding their presence even from divine sight."
A beat of silence.
"It's an unsettling thought. A chilling one. But one we must consider… for the sake of survival."
He stood slowly, letting the weight of his words sink like stone into a grave.
"That said, we proceed with the report's primary claim. Given the scale of devastation… and Min-seok's lack of Host signatures… the most probable scenario remains: a Golden-Class HI-MONSTER."
He turned back to Director Han, voice like the closing of a gate.
"Our absolute priority is to locate and neutralize this threat—before it inflicts further irreparable devastation. To our land. To our people."
Chairs scraped as the Hosts stirred, preparing to depart—until a new voice sliced the air like wind through silk.
"Forgive my interruption."
Lee Min-ji stepped forward. Level 31 Whisperwind Weaver. Her long dark hair, usually free and flowing, was tied in a braid—a signal to her peers that she meant business.
The air shimmered faintly around her, touched by the breath of Aine, Irish goddess of summer and secrets.
"Director. Jhin Won. I… have a question."
Her voice was soft, melodic—but laced with steel.
"Why would such a powerful being attack a desolate mountain range? There were only low-level monsters there. No Hosts. No civilians. No resources."
A pause.
"Why not a city? Why not a KGFH base?"
Silence thickened.
"What if… this being wasn't destroying, but cleansing? What if it chose isolation on purpose, to avoid harming innocents? What if it's not a monster at all, but… one of us?"
Her gaze moved from face to face, steady and clear.
"Someone fighting this forsaken game in their own way. A rogue Host, maybe. An unconventional ally. But still… an ally."
The room stopped breathing.
Even Hyun-woo, ever the loudest, fell silent.
For a long moment, nothing moved.
Then Jhin Won turned, dark eyes locking with hers.
"We cannot risk the lives of our people, Min-ji…" he said, quiet but final.
"…on a mere speculation."