Smoke still curled from the ruins of Aegis Prime when Raizen and his crew slipped back into the shadows. But this time, they weren't running — they were preparing to be seen.
Atop a hidden island once used for pirate radio, Raizen met a figure long thought vanished: Dorian Vance, the legendary journalist known as The Ghost Quill. A man who had survived three assassination attempts, burned every bridge in the media world, and still carried a pen like it was a weapon of war.
"The world doesn't need another hero," Dorian said, lighting a cigarette with shaking fingers. "It needs truth. Ugly, blazing truth."
Raizen handed him the fragmented documents from the Shadow Archive and the recorded confession of the Emperor's Hand. Stories that could shatter kingdoms. Secrets buried beneath centuries of silence.
With the Ember Order's help, they hijacked the World Broadcast Grid — a transmission web so vast, it reached every den, palace, and backwater port on the seas. And when Dorian's voice echoed from every screen, mirror-transceiver, and skywave, the world held its breath.
"The World Government is built on ash," he said. "Its justice, a mask. Its peace, a prison."
Images followed: The Crown of Shadows linked to the founding of the government. The weaponized erasure of islands. The children born in hidden prisons. The erased bloodlines. The ancient war crimes.
Uprisings erupted within minutes.
In the Kingdom of Vallis, prisoners stormed the citadel. In Eastport, naval officers laid down arms. Even among pirates, old rivals banded together beneath the banner of the Flameheart Fleet, lighting the seas with rebellion.
But not all was celebration.
Some called the broadcast a lie — a manipulated illusion created by rebels. Others accused Raizen of destabilizing the world for personal glory. Kingdoms fractured into factions. Civil wars bloomed. Hidden powers awakened, eager to fill the void left by the crumbling regime.
Amidst the chaos, Raizen watched the world shift — and tremble.
"Did we do the right thing?" Lyra asked, watching cities burn and flags fall.
Raizen didn't answer immediately. He gazed at the screen, where a child in a distant village painted the Flameheart emblem on a wall.
"We gave them the truth," he said at last. "What they do with it… that's their fight now."
But deep in the heart of the sea, an ancient mechanism stirred — one that predated even the World Government.
For while illusions had shattered… something older had begun to awaken.
END OF CHAPTER 11