For the first time since the Selection Program began, there were no cameras. No broadcasts. No sponsor commentary.
Only war—and the silence it left behind.
---
Somewhere in Eastern Europe
36 Hours After the Blackout
Smoke trailed from abandoned convoys along cracked highways. Civilians had fled cities in droves, unsure whether the chaos was scripted or real. Formerly coordinated militaries—once powered by HALIX algorithms—were now feral, broken beasts, led only by fear and instinct.
And in the middle of it all, Kael was moving.
His convoy was smaller now—six armored transports, a mobile med unit, and Astra's underground intel rig mounted on a blackout-compatible core. It wasn't much. But it was alive.
> "How many nodes still respond to ghost signals?" Kael asked.
Astra slid a hand across the table, lighting a cracked display.
> "Thirteen. Most are scattered across Europe and Central Asia. One's in northern Africa. If we want to rally anything resembling a resistance, we need to reach them—soon."
Kael stared at the map.
> "And Jian?"
Astra hesitated. "His voice is spreading. Not through tech—through people. He's using surviving sponsor agents, bribes, propaganda. He's offering order… in exchange for obedience."
Kael leaned forward, jaw clenched. "He's not building an empire. He's building a religion."
---
Meanwhile — Moscow
In the dark halls of an abandoned sponsor facility, Velora Drakovich stood before a war council. Not just her own commanders—but leaders from scattered factions. Former rivals. Exiled players.
She spoke like a fire behind ice.
> "Kael will rise again. But Jian won't wait. When Kael moves, Jian will crush him with everything he has. So we don't wait either."
One of the exiled players scoffed. "You'd bet your campaign on Kael surviving this?"
Velora's eyes flashed.
> "I'm not betting on survival. I'm betting on vengeance."
---
Back to Kael
Two days later, on the outskirts of Vienna, Kael found the first of the scattered nodes.
What was once a media relay outpost was now a half-ruined fortress, manned by mercenaries and stragglers.
Among them—Rael Nomura.
Once Japan's Player. One of the most ruthless naval tacticians in the program. Disappeared after Year Two. Presumed eliminated.
Now?
He stood in a rain-drenched courtyard, arms crossed, watching Kael approach.
> "Didn't think I'd see the golden boy crawling through the ashes," Rael said.
Kael stopped just short of him. "And I didn't think you were still alive."
Rael smirked. "Neither did the three divisions I sank off Korea."
> "Why are you here?" Kael asked.
Rael stepped forward, serious now.
> "Because Jian's blackout made me irrelevant. I can't control the oceans without HALIX. But you—you still have a fire. That's dangerous."
Kael studied him carefully.
> "So you're joining me?"
Rael shook his head.
> "I'm testing you. If you survive the next week… I'll bring the others."
> "Others?"
Rael turned back toward the fortress.
> "You're not the only ghost Jian forgot to kill."
---
End of Chapter Eight
Next: Chapter Nine — "Children of Silence"