At the center of the Otherworlders Continent stood the World Alliance Headquarters, now officially renamed the Otherworlders Ascendants Association. It was a place of power, where the leaders of the Otherworlders gathered to shape the fate of their civilization.
A high-ranking Angel led the delegation toward the grand headquarters, moving swiftly through the streets. Since this was their second visit, they were already familiar with the roads and towering structures.
Upon arriving, the Angels immediately noticed the changes.
HUMMMM!
The air pulsed with mana energy, resonating through the enchanted cityscape.
CLANK!
CLANK!
Metal constructs patrolled the streets, their arcane cores glowing as they scanned their surroundings.
CRACKLE… ZZZT!
Massive barrier gates shimmered, now reinforced with constantly shifting runes, responding dynamically to unknown threats.
TAP!
TAP!
TAP!
Boots echoed against the polished stone floor as they entered the towering structure.
THUD!
THUD!
THUD!
Colossal enchanted doors swung open, revealing the Grand Council Chamber.
HUMMMM…
Floating mana orbs cast an ethereal glow, illuminating the massive circular table where discussions would be held.
CREAK…
Chairs shifted as the Otherworlders' leaders, the Angels, and Samsara's envoys took their seats.
SILENCE…
A heavy stillness filled the chamber, thick with unspoken expectations.
VMMM…!
Then
THUD!
A firm hand struck the table.
"Welcome," said Supreme Commander Arthur Greaves, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade.
FWOOSH!
A magical projection of the Otherworlders Continent materialized in midair, signaling the start of negotiations.
The headquarters had expanded, its walls reinforced with powerful enchantments. The very air crackled with energy, proof of the immense power now concentrated within these halls.
Inside the grand meeting chamber, a gathering was already underway. Seated at the oval table were high-ranking officials of the Otherworlders, high-ranking Angels and Samsara world natives, their expressions solemn as they discussed the future of their civilization.
Among them was Lysara, a four-winged Angel, her radiant presence illuminating the room as she engaged in deep conversation with several dignitaries. Her ethereal voice carried an air of authority, each word measured and deliberate.
At the head of the table sat Supreme Commander Arthur Greaves, the man who had led the Otherworlders to stability in an unfamiliar world.
Arthur was no ordinary leader. At 80 years old, he still carried himself like the warrior he had always been tall and broad-shouldered, standing at 6 '2", his presence alone demanding respect. His silver-white hair, thick despite his age, was tied loosely at the back, while strands fell across his battle-worn face. His steel-gray eyes, sharp and unwavering, held the weight of decades spent on battlefields, the ghosts of fallen comrades reflected in their depths.
His skin, weathered and slightly tanned, bore scars etched reminders of battles that shaped the Otherworlders' fate. A neatly trimmed beard lined his chiseled jaw, adding to his formidable presence. Unlike the finely dressed dignitaries around him, Arthur still wore his black, battle-worn armor, enchanted with defensive runes that flickered faintly with restrained power. A long, dark-blue military coat, lined with gold trim, rested over his shoulders, and across his chest lay a crimson sash, a relic of his fallen comrades, a reminder of the sacrifices made.
Yet, despite his hardened exterior, a shadow of sorrow lingered in his eyes. He had long shouldered the burden of leadership, but the weight of personal loss never left him. His only son and daughter-in-law had vanished years ago while researching the Space Crack, an interdimensional anomaly that defied understanding. Their disappearance had left him with a single family member, his granddaughter.
She was seventeen, a 16 year old young woman with ash-blonde hair and sapphire-blue eyes, eyes that mirrored the same unrelenting determination Arthur once had in his youth. While she had grown up in his shadow, her heart remained restless. Arthur knew that despite his efforts to keep her safe, she harbored a deep longing to seek the truth behind her parents' disappearance, to challenge the unknown, and to step beyond the protective walls of the Otherworlders' domain.
Arthur exhaled slowly, his fingers lightly tapping against the table as discussions continued around him. His mind, as always, remained focused on the present.
The Otherworlders had risen beyond mere survival. They were building a new civilization, shaping an existence that would one day rival even Samsara itself.
But Arthur knew the storm had yet to come. The world was shifting. The balance of power was changing.
The Chaos Ara coming with in 10 years And war… war was inevitable.
Arthur leaned forward slightly, his sharp gray eyes studying the Archangel Raziel carefully. The air in the chamber was heavy with unspoken expectations, the faint hum of protective enchantments resonating through the walls.
The gathered officials sat in tense silence, their gazes shifting between Arthur and Raziel. The weight of history pressed upon them. This was more than just another meeting; this was a moment that would define the Otherworlders' future.
Raziel's six pristine wings folded slightly as he continued, his voice unwavering.
"However, times have changed."
A subtle shift in energy rippled through the room a silent, collective inhale.
"We believe it is time for the Otherworlders to build Guilds, academics and all production & Ascendants Halls."
Arthur's fingers tapped once against the polished stone table a sharp, deliberate sound.
"Meaning?" His voice was calm, yet beneath it lay the steel of a seasoned warrior who had seen too many veiled threats disguised as diplomacy.
Raziel's expression remained unreadable. "Meaning, the Angels & powerful Ascendants of native Samsara world will help you for the next 10 years development of Otherworlders Continent. It's a Gods Decree."
A murmur spread through the officials a low, uneasy rustling, like the shifting of a great tide.
Arthur didn't react immediately. Instead, he took a slow breath, leaning back into his seat.
"You gave guidance on how to become Ascendants," he said evenly. "You are helping us teaching how to survive." His gaze turned sharp. "But now, you're helping us even more, we are in your debt?"
Lysara, the four-winged Angel seated beside him, finally spoke. "Sir Artthur, with all due respect, this decision comes from gods. We messengers of Gods must follow unconditionally?"
Raziel's six wings twitched slightly, the only sign of his otherwise unwavering composure. "On the contrary. You have exceeded expectations. And it's been 40,000 years since God's interface with Samsara."
Arthur exhaled, a slow, measured breath.
"You believe is it worth that we can get Gods Attention?"
"We don't know," Raziel corrected. "Time will tell."
Silence.
Arthur's steel-gray eyes met the Archangel's golden gaze, a silent battle of will and authority playing out between them.
Then, Arthur chuckled low and rumbling, like distant thunder.
"Hah. I see now." He looked at the gathered officials. "Is it for future preparation?"
"And we don't disappoint who help us"
Raziel remained impassive. "You misunderstand. It's Gods will, what will happen in future only Gods could tell.''
Arthur's fingers curled into a fist, resting on the table. "Anyway, thank you so much for your help." His voice was quiet, but the power behind it was undeniable. "It's a huge help for us in this unknown new world.''
His next words sent a shockwave through the chamber.
"With the help of Angels and Samsara world's natives… the Otherworlders will carve their own path."
A brief pause. Then
BOOM!
A sudden pulse of energy raw, unrestrained burst from Arthur's form.
The protective enchantments woven into the chamber flared to life faint golden runes sparking into visibility across the walls. The very air trembled, as if acknowledging the sheer willpower behind his declaration.
Raziel did not flinch. Instead, for the first time, a faint smile small, knowing curved his lips.
"Then show us."
A charged silence filled the chamber, heavy with the weight of destiny itself. The gathered officials, once rigid with caution, now sat at the edge of their seats, hearts pounding, anticipation thick in the air.
Outside, beyond the mystical protection barrier, thousands of renowned artisans, legendary warriors, and master scholars come one after another into the Otherworlders Continent by passing the protection barrier.
Arthur's gaze hardened, his mind racing through the endless possibilities. Guilds to govern warriors and mages. Academies to shape future generations. Merchant networks to bridge continents. It was no longer a question of survival.
It was a question of legacy.
He looked at Raziel, whose golden eyes gleamed with divine authority. The Archangel had brought them to this precipice, but it was now Arthur's people who would take the leap.
A slow exhale escaped Arthur's lips.
No hesitation. No doubt. Only resolve.
"Then let's begin, our new pace journey of Otherworlders in this Samsara world."
BOOM!
As if the world itself responded to his words, a deep, resonating pulse of mana surged through the chamber, ancient runes flickering to life across the walls, the very air thrumming with power.
Outside, the gathered masters stirred, sensing the shift. This was the signal.
The birth of a new continent.
The forging of legends.
And the first step toward a future that even the Gods could not predict.
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To Be Continued...!!