As the dust settled and the remnants of the Lock On barrier flickered in and out of existence, Seiji could no longer contain his impatience. With a burst of energy, he lunged forward, his fist connecting with the invisible wall. The impact sent a spiderweb of cracks across the surface, and with a resonant shatter, the barrier exploded like glass under a hammer's blow. Free at last, Seiji blurred into motion, reappearing instantly behind Agent 66.
"I'm sure you didn't expect things to turn out this way, this fast, eh?" Seiji taunted, his voice dripping with mockery as he tapped Agent 66 on the shoulder. Without waiting for a response, he delivered a powerful round kick, sending Agent 66 stumbling backward, his steps unsteady as he struggled to maintain balance.
Seiji prepared to follow up his attack, but as he and Shenlog, mounted atop his imposing dragon, closed in, Agent 66 conjured a swirling portal. With a defiant glance, he stepped back, allowing himself to be swallowed by the vortex, escaping to regroup.
On the ground, the tension briefly gave way to frustration. Shenlog, visibly annoyed, turned to Seiji. "Really, getting yourself locked up?" he chided, his tone heavy with reprimand.
Seiji shrugged, a wry smile playing on his lips. "Not that I couldn't escape if I wanted to," he quipped. "I just wanted to see how far Jin could stand against him."
Shenlog shook his head in disbelief, while Urashima, who had also been freed from the barrier, expressed his frustration more vocally. "You could have escaped anytime and you didn't?" he exclaimed, his annoyance clear.
The conversation shifted as Seiji walked over to Jin, who was still recovering on the battlefield. As Seiji approached, the 32 Marks of God glowed on his palm. He placed a hand on Jin, and with a whispered incantation, a warm, healing energy flowed into Jin, swiftly restoring his depleted reserves.
"You did perfectly well," Seiji commended, helping Jin to his feet. "But we'll need to talk later."
Meanwhile, Shenlog wasted no time in reinforcing their defenses. He barked orders for increased security on the borderline and demanded an explanation for the communication failures. "Why wasn't this reported immediately when the portal was broken?" he demanded.
A Sentinel responded, his voice tense, "The veil prevented even communications, sir."
Back in the New World, Agent 66 re-emerged in a secluded factory. As he stepped onto the cold, metal floor, a shadowy figure approached him, their features obscured by darkness.
"How was Jin? How strong has he become now?" the figure inquired quietly.
Agent 66 paused, his voice measured. "He's good, but not yet perfect," he replied. "And no, he hasn't manifested it yet."
The figure nodded slowly. "I see," they murmured, turning away to contemplate the implications.
Back in the Free World, the reconstruction began in earnest. The damage from the battle was extensive, and both Sentinels and civilians joined forces to rebuild. Amidst the clatter of construction and the hustle of recovery, Jingwei and Jin found themselves side by side.
As they worked, a conversation blossomed between them, an exchange of experiences and shared hardships, symbolizing not just the physical rebuilding of their surroundings, but perhaps the beginning of a new camaraderie forged in the heat of battle.
The silence of the night was shattered by the relentless ringing of Shenlog's phone. The sharp, high-pitched tone echoed through his quarters, relentless and jarring. The digital display flickered with urgency, as missed call notifications flashed one after another. Shenlog stirred, his brow furrowing in irritation as the insistent sound refused to let him rest.
Finally, with a low growl, he snatched the phone from the nightstand and barked, "Who is this?"
From the other end, chaos erupted. The sound of screaming, muffled explosions, and hurried footsteps blended into a cacophony of despair. A Sentinel officer's voice broke through the noise, panicked and breathless.
"Commander Shenlog! We've… we've found it! Blackstone—Blackstone City. The mission—months of searching—it's finally complete. The coordinates are—"
The officer's words were abruptly cut off by an eerie, mechanical hum. Shenlog's sharp ears picked up the distinct sound of something floating—the faint hum of objects slicing through the air.
"What's going on?" Shenlog demanded, his tone icy and commanding.
On the other end of the line, the officer's voice trembled. "Sir, it's—there are four… cubes—they're floating around me! I can't—"
CRACK!
A spine-chilling explosion erupted, followed by a sickening squelch. The line went dead, leaving behind only static.
Shenlog's grip on the phone tightened. "Who is this?" he growled into the receiver, his tone sharp and menacing. But no answer came. Only silence. Then, faintly, the sound of labored breathing emerged before a snap echoed through the line. The call ended abruptly, and Shenlog's phone screen flickered and went black.
Shenlog's heart pounded as he leapt from his bed. The soft rustle of silk sheets followed him as a blonde-haired woman stirred behind him. She was draped lazily in the satin covers, her curvaceous figure accentuated by the thin straps of her G-string. She propped herself up on one elbow, her golden hair cascading over her shoulder, and asked groggily, "What's wrong?"
"Go back to sleep," Shenlog ordered, his tone brooking no argument.
The woman pouted, but Shenlog didn't spare her another glance. His focus was already elsewhere, his strides long and purposeful as he exited the room. The metallic clang of his boots against the tiled floor echoed through the hall as he made his way to his
As Shenlog entered his private study, the air felt heavier. The faint glow of a holographic map emanated from his desk, casting long shadows across the room. His sharp eyes caught sight of a transmission blinking on the display—a final act from the Sentinel officer who had called him.
He tapped the console, and the map expanded before him. A blinking red dot marked the location. Blackstone City. Deep within the New World.
His mind raced. Blackstone—the Shadow Council's fortress, a city cloaked in mystery and danger, ruled by Nicklaus, the newly named Legion Commander. Months of searching, countless lives lost, and now the coordinates were in his hands.
But at what cost?
As Shenlog examined the map, something strange happened. The coordinates pulsed faintly, a rhythmic glow that grew stronger with each passing second. A low, droning hum filled the room. Shenlog's instincts screamed at him to move, and he barely dodged in time as the screen cracked violently, sending shards of glass flying.
A deep, metallic voice filled the room, cold and devoid of emotion. "You should have stayed in bed, Commander."
Shenlog's eyes narrowed. "Who are you?" he demanded, his voice a low growl.
The voice didn't answer. Instead, the hologram flickered one last time before collapsing into static. Whatever had infiltrated his system was gone, leaving behind only the ominous coordinates on his desk.
Shenlog leaned back in his chair, his mind a storm of thoughts. Six days had passed since the chaos with Agent 66, and now this. He clenched his fists, his knuckles whitening as he stared at the blinking red dot on the map. The New World had always been a place of danger, but Blackstone City was something else entirely.
Rising from his seat, Shenlog grabbed his Sentinel white coat from the hanger beside him and draped it over his broad shoulders. His sharp eyes darted to the sword mounted on the wall—a weapon forged for war, polished and ready.
As he moved to leave, the blonde woman appeared at the doorway, her expression concerned. "What's happening, Shenlog?"
Without turning to her, Shenlog replied, "The Free World has a new mission."
He strode past her, his movements decisive, his mind already calculating the next steps. The Free World wasn't ready for what lay ahead. But Shenlog was.
The camera pans to the holographic map, the red dot blinking ominously over Blackstone City. Faint sounds of whispers echo, and the screen fades to black.
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GOT IT