The secure conference room beneath Bristol's Parliament Building had been designed for crisis management—soundproofed walls, encrypted communications, air filtration systems capable of handling chemical attacks. Tonight, it served as the stage for Bristol's fractured leadership to attempt something resembling unity.
President Helena Ashford sat at the head of the long table, looking older than her fifty-three years. The past week had aged her visibly—new lines around her eyes, gray streaks more prominent in her hair. To her right sat Master Takeda, serene as always, his presence a calm anchor in turbulent waters. Victoria Cross stood near the wall, her S-rank aura carefully suppressed but still palpable.
Across from them sat Grand Master Wei, his posture perfect despite the late hour. Two of his senior disciples flanked him—both S-rank martial artists whose stillness suggested coiled springs ready to release. Wei's weathered face revealed nothing as he reviewed the contract document before him.
At the far end of the table, separated by deliberate distance, sat Dawn. Her silver armor caught the fluorescent light, and even seated, she radiated the ethereal beauty of her Valkyrie class. Captain Maya stood behind her, along with two other S-rank members of Sun Guild, all female, all watching the proceedings with careful attention.
"The terms are acceptable," Wei said finally, setting down the document. His voice carried the weight of decades of discipline. "Zenith Guild will serve as the primary enforcement arm for awakened-related incidents in the Eastern Territories. We maintain autonomous command structure, traditional hierarchy, and tactical authority in all combat situations involving awakened threats."
"With strategic oversight remaining with the government," President Ashford clarified. "You command the how, we command the when and why."
"An acceptable distinction," Wei acknowledged. "My disciples understand warfare. Your administration understands governance. Neither should interfere in the other's domain of expertise."
"And compensation?" one of Wei's disciples asked—a stern woman in her fifties whose eyes suggested she'd broken more bones than most doctors had set.
"Full military benefits for all Zenith Guild members who join the official structure," Victoria Cross said, reading from her tablet. "Healthcare, housing allowances, pension programs. Plus operational budget of fifty million pounds annually for equipment, training facilities, and recruitment."
"We also require access to beta realm research," Wei added. "Your scientists are studying dungeon mechanics, monster biology, item properties. My disciples need this information to maximize combat effectiveness."
President Ashford glanced at Master Takeda, who gave the slightest nod.
"Agreed, but with restrictions," she said. "You receive research findings relevant to combat applications. Classified strategic intelligence and weaponization research remains restricted until you achieve full security clearance, which will take approximately six months."
"Six months is acceptable," Wei said. "By then, the real threats will have revealed themselves, and such intelligence will be necessary rather than optional."
Dawn spoke up for the first time. "You're assuming this alliance will last six months."
All eyes turned to her.
"I mean no disrespect," she continued, her voice carrying an ethereal quality that made people want to listen. "But we're negotiating as if the apocalypse isn't coming. The Administrator was clear—this beta period is temporary. When the real threat arrives, will organizational charts and command structures matter?"
"They will matter more than ever," Wei replied, surprising everyone by actually engaging rather than dismissing her. "Apocalypse does not mean chaos. It means extreme challenge requiring extreme discipline. Those who maintain structure and coordination will survive. Those who don't will perish."
"Unless the structure becomes rigid," Dawn countered. "Unless protocol prevents adaptation."
"Which is why we maintain autonomous tactical authority," Wei said. "Zenith's strength is not just power—it is the ability to make split-second decisions in combat without bureaucratic delay. The government provides strategic direction. We execute with the efficiency that only martial discipline can achieve."
President Ashford cleared her throat, redirecting the conversation. "Commander Dawn, we've reviewed your counter-proposal. The terms you've requested are... unconventional."
"They're necessary," Dawn said flatly. "Sun Guild will partner with the government, but not as subordinates. We want autonomous jurisdiction over all cases involving awakened violence against women—assault, harassment, abuse of power for sexual coercion, any crime where an awakened individual has used their abilities to victimize women."
"That's asking for a parallel justice system," one of the government advisors protested. "It sets dangerous precedent."
"The current system has failed women for centuries," Dawn replied, her voice hardening. "The awakening has amplified every societal problem we already had. Men who were predators before now have superhuman strength. Men who were harassers now have powers that make rejection impossible. Your courts move too slowly, your police are too weak, and your laws weren't designed for a world where a C-rank awakened can terrorize an entire neighborhood."
"We're working on awakened-specific legal frameworks—"
"Too slowly," Dawn interrupted. "How many women have died while you work? How many have been assaulted by awakened who know conventional law enforcement can't touch them?" She leaned forward. "I'm offering you a solution. Let Sun Guild handle these cases. We have the power to actually arrest awakened criminals, the expertise to investigate properly, and the moral authority that comes from protecting the vulnerable."
"What about due process?" Victoria Cross asked carefully. "Trials, evidence standards, appeals?"
"We work within your legal framework," Dawn said. "But we handle the investigation and arrest. Your courts can still adjudicate, but Sun Guild provides the enforcement capability you currently lack. Think of us as specialized police with actual teeth."
President Ashford studied Dawn carefully. "You're asking for what amounts to an autonomous security force with legal arrest powers. That's an enormous amount of trust to place in an organization that's existed for less than two weeks."
"Then verify us," Dawn replied. "Embed government observers in Sun Guild operations. Review our cases, audit our procedures, hold us accountable. I'm not asking for unchecked power—I'm asking for the authority to actually protect people while you watch and confirm we're doing it properly."
"And if we find you're not?" Master Takeda asked quietly.
"Then revoke our authority," Dawn said simply. "I'm confident in my guild's integrity. We have nothing to hide from legitimate oversight."
The room fell silent as President Ashford considered. Finally, she spoke.
"Six-month trial period. Sun Guild receives deputized law enforcement authority specifically for cases involving awakened violence against women. All arrests must be reported within twenty-four hours. All evidence must be processed through official channels. Government observers will be embedded in your operations from day one. After six months, we evaluate and decide whether to continue, modify, or terminate the arrangement."
Dawn exchanged glances with her lieutenants. Captain Maya gave a slight nod.
"Acceptable," Dawn said. "With one addition—we need access to the national criminal database. If we're hunting predators, we need to know their histories."
"Access granted, with the same security restrictions as Zenith Guild," President Ashford agreed. "Six months to prove this works."
---
Two hours later, after the formal documents were signed and the guild leaders had departed, President Ashford sat alone in her office with Master Takeda and Victoria Cross.
"We just gave away enormous power," Victoria said, pacing. "Two guilds, nearly thirty thousand awakened between them, autonomous authority in their spheres. If this goes wrong—"
"Then we're no worse off than we are now," President Ashford interrupted. "Wei and Dawn are the best of the major guild leaders. Honorable, disciplined, actually interested in protecting people rather than accumulating power. If we can't work with them, we can't work with anyone."
"And RedFlame?" Victoria asked. "Inferno made his position clear with that convoy attack. He doesn't want partnership—he wants to prove government authority is meaningless."
"Which is why we're not retaliating," President Ashford said firmly. "He wants us to respond with force, to prove his point that might makes right. Instead, we're going to do exactly what Master Takeda suggested—transcend him."
"Elaborate," Victoria requested.
Master Takeda spoke, his voice thoughtful. "Inferno's demonstration was designed to humiliate us, to show that our power is illusory. If we retaliate, we validate his worldview—that everything comes down to force. If we escalate, we play his game on his terms."
"So we do nothing?" Victoria's frustration was evident.
"We do everything except what he expects," President Ashford corrected. "We issue a public statement acknowledging the attack and the damage to our convoy. We admit openly that we cannot militarily defeat SSS-rank awakened. We announce our partnerships with Zenith and Sun not as building an army, but as choosing cooperation over conflict."
"That sounds like surrender," Victoria protested.
"It sounds like wisdom," Master Takeda corrected gently. "We admit the truth—that the old power structures are insufficient—but we offer a new vision. One where awakened and non-awakened work together, where strength serves rather than dominates, where coordination matters more than individual power."
"Will anyone believe it?" Victoria asked skeptically.
"Some will," President Ashford said. "The ones who want to believe in something better than warlord rule. The ones who remember what civilization was supposed to be. We're not trying to control Inferno or RedFlame—we're trying to make them irrelevant by offering an alternative that most people will prefer."
"And when the apocalypse arrives?" Victoria pressed. "When the Administrator's warning comes true and we face real threats?"
"Then we hope that we've built enough cooperation and coordination that humanity can actually fight back," President Ashford replied. "Because if we're still tearing each other apart when the real enemy appears, we're all dead anyway."
---
The next morning, President Ashford's statement was broadcast across every channel:
"Yesterday, a convoy under government protection was attacked by awakened individuals affiliated with RedFlame Guild. No casualties resulted, but significant equipment was damaged. This attack was designed to demonstrate that conventional authority structures cannot protect against awakened power.
"They're right.
"We cannot militarily defeat SSS-rank awakened. Our police cannot arrest individuals who can create firestorms. Our laws were not designed for a world where supernatural abilities are real.
"So we're not going to pretend otherwise.
"Instead, we're choosing a different path. Today, I'm pleased to announce formal partnerships with Zenith Guild and Sun Guild. These organizations have committed to working within our legal framework while providing the enforcement capability we currently lack. They will serve as bridges between awakened and non-awakened communities, demonstrating that power and responsibility can coexist.
"To those guilds who choose confrontation over cooperation, know this: we will not retaliate with force we don't possess. We will not escalate conflicts we cannot win. But we will continue building systems that protect all citizens, regardless of their status.
"The apocalypse is coming—the Administrator made that clear. When it arrives, humanity's survival will depend not on who has the most power, but on who can work together effectively. We choose cooperation. We choose structure. We choose to believe that civilization is worth preserving.
"Those who want to join us in building this future are welcome. Those who don't... will find themselves increasingly isolated as the rest of us move forward."
The statement went viral within hours. Reactions were mixed—some praised Ashford's pragmatism, others condemned her perceived weakness. But most importantly, it changed the narrative. Instead of a government desperately trying to control awakened populations, it was now positioned as a coalition builder, offering partnership rather than dominance.
RedFlame Guild issued no official response, though sources reported Inferno watched the broadcast multiple times, his expression unreadable.
---
Three days after the public announcement, President Ashford received an unexpected visitor request.
Crimson Fang wanted to meet. In person. Privately.
The meeting was arranged for a secure location—a renovated office building in Valen's diplomatic quarter, surrounded by military checkpoints but officially neutral ground. President Ashford arrived with only Master Takeda and Victoria Cross. Security waited outside, understanding they'd be useless if Crimson Fang decided violence was in his interest.
When Crimson Fang entered the room, President Ashford understood why his guild had grown so quickly.
He was impossibly beautiful—pale skin that seemed to glow faintly, crimson eyes that held hypnotic depth, features that could have been carved by a master sculptor seeking to capture perfect predatory grace. His movements were fluid, economical, suggesting power held in casual reserve. When he smiled, revealing teeth just slightly too sharp to be human, the effect was simultaneously charming and terrifying.
"Madam President," he said, his voice smooth as silk. "Thank you for agreeing to meet."
"Mr. Crimson Fang," she replied, keeping her voice neutral. "I admit I was surprised by your request. Our previous communications suggested you weren't interested in formal partnerships."
"Those communications were made when I was still evaluating my options," Crimson Fang said, sitting across from her with casual grace. "Your recent public statement was... intriguing. You admitted weakness openly rather than pretending strength. That suggests either desperation or strategic brilliance."
"Which do you believe?" President Ashford asked.
"Both," Crimson Fang replied with that unsettling smile. "You're desperate because your authority is crumbling. You're brilliant because you're turning that weakness into potential strength by reframing the entire power dynamic."
He leaned forward slightly, and President Ashford resisted the urge to lean back.
"But there's a flaw in your strategy," Crimson Fang continued. "You've partnered with Zenith and Sun—enforcement and protection. That gives you capability to respond to threats. What you don't have is intelligence capability for the awakened population. You can't protect people from dangers you don't know exist."
"And you're offering to fill that gap," President Ashford said, understanding dawning.
"Precisely." Crimson Fang's eyes gleamed. "Viper Guild has spent the past two weeks building networks—informants, surveillance, intelligence gathering across Bristol's awakened population. We know which C-rank awakened is planning to rob banks. Which A-rank is secretly recruiting for a private army. Which independent SSS-rank is preparing to challenge established guilds."
"That's impressive efficiency," Victoria Cross said carefully. "Almost suspiciously so."
"My class provides certain... advantages for gathering information," Crimson Fang said vaguely. "People tend to be very forthcoming when properly motivated. But more importantly, I've been focusing on this specifically while others were flexing their muscles or posturing for territory."
"What do you want in exchange?" President Ashford asked bluntly.
"Access," Crimson Fang replied. "To government databases—criminal records, surveillance footage, communications intercepts. If I'm going to track dangerous awakened, I need to know their pre-awakening histories, their connections, their patterns."
"That's asking for a great deal of sensitive information," Master Takeda observed.
"It is," Crimson Fang agreed. "Which is why I'm offering more than just intelligence. Viper Guild will provide advance warning of planned crimes, locations of fugitive awakened, real-time monitoring of emerging threats. Think of us as your eyes and ears in a community you can't effectively penetrate."
"What you're describing sounds like a surveillance state," Victoria said, her tone sharp. "Using awakened to spy on other awakened."
"I'm describing survival," Crimson Fang corrected. "The non-awakened can't monitor awakened activities—they lack the capability. Your government can't embed agents in awakened communities—you don't have enough loyal awakened willing to spy on their own kind. But I do. Viper Guild is positioned perfectly to provide intelligence you desperately need."
President Ashford studied him carefully. "And what do you get beyond database access?"
"Occasionally, I'll need you to look the other way," Crimson Fang said, his smile widening. "When my guild conducts certain operations that might technically violate laws designed for conventional police work. Nothing that harms innocents—I'm not interested in becoming a villain. But sometimes, gathering intelligence requires bending rules that weren't written for supernatural investigations."
"You're asking for selective immunity," President Ashford said flatly.
"I'm asking for operational flexibility," Crimson Fang replied. "With oversight. Embed observers in my operations just like you're doing with Sun Guild. Review my methods, audit my results. But give me room to work in ways that conventional law enforcement can't."
The room fell silent. President Ashford glanced at Master Takeda, whose expression revealed nothing, then at Victoria, whose skepticism was evident.
Finally, President Ashford spoke. "You're offering something we need. The question is whether we can trust you to use it responsibly."
"Trust is earned," Crimson Fang acknowledged. "Which is why I'm proposing a trial arrangement. Three months. I provide intelligence demonstrating value. You provide database access and limited operational flexibility. Embedded observers monitor everything. After three months, we evaluate whether the relationship is mutually beneficial."
"And if we determine it's not?" Victoria asked.
"Then we part ways," Crimson Fang said simply. "I revert to operating independently, and you lose the intelligence capability I'm offering. But I'm confident you'll find my services valuable."
President Ashford considered. What Crimson Fang offered was genuinely useful—potentially critical for preventing awakened crimes before they occurred. But the cost was high, and the potential for abuse enormous.
"Your proposal has significant... complications," she said carefully. "The database access you're requesting would give you information on millions of citizens. The operational flexibility could easily become a cover for illegal activities. And your guild's methods—blood consumption for power enhancement—raise ethical concerns we can't simply ignore."
"All valid points," Crimson Fang acknowledged without defensiveness. "Which is why I'm proposing extensive oversight. Your embedded observers will have full access to Viper Guild operations. They'll witness how we gather intelligence, how we verify information, how we handle sensitive data. Total transparency within the bounds of operational security."
"Except when you need us to 'look the other way,'" Victoria pointed out.
"Those situations will be rare and documented," Crimson Fang replied. "I'm not asking for carte blanche—I'm asking for discretion when necessary. The difference is accountability. You'll know what I'm doing even when I'm bending rules, because I'll be reporting it."
President Ashford leaned back, thinking. This was a dangerous game. Crimson Fang was clearly playing multiple angles—his offer to the government didn't preclude him also offering services to other guilds or maintaining complete independence if it suited him. He was positioning Viper Guild as indispensable to multiple factions, ensuring survival through utility rather than power.
It was brilliant and terrifying in equal measure.
"I have concerns about your methods," she said finally. "The blood consumption aspect of your class. The hypnotic abilities you likely possess. The potential for manipulation embedded in every interaction."
"Also valid concerns," Crimson Fang said. "Which is why my embedded observers will include mental resistance specialists—awakened with immunity to psychic influence who can verify I'm not manipulating your personnel. I want this partnership to be legitimate, not built on coercion."
"Why?" Master Takeda asked quietly. "Why do you want legitimacy? You have power, resources, a growing guild. You could operate independently and avoid all these complications."
Crimson Fang's expression became more serious, the charm fading slightly. "Because the Administrator's warning was real. An apocalypse is coming—something that will make all our current conflicts look like children squabbling. When that arrives, scattered groups fighting among themselves will be eliminated quickly. But a coordinated civilization with intelligence networks, enforcement capability, and strategic oversight? That has a chance of surviving."
He gestured around the room. "I'm not altruistic. I want Viper Guild to survive what's coming. The best way to ensure that is to make ourselves so valuable that everyone needs us. The government needs our intelligence. Other guilds will need our information networks. Even the monsters will fear us because we'll know their weaknesses."
"You're hedging your bets," Victoria observed.
"I'm ensuring survival," Crimson Fang corrected. "And offering you the same opportunity. Work with me, and you gain intelligence capabilities that could save thousands of lives. Refuse, and you'll be flying blind while others prepare for what's coming."
President Ashford exchanged long glances with Master Takeda and Victoria. Finally, she spoke.
"Your proposal has merit, but significant problems. The database access you're requesting would require security clearances that take months to process. The operational flexibility you're asking for conflicts with existing law enforcement protocols. And the oversight you're offering doesn't address concerns about information manipulation."
"So you're refusing?" Crimson Fang asked, his expression unreadable.
"I'm saying we need to resolve significant issues before committing," President Ashford clarified. "Your three-month trial period makes sense, but the terms need refinement. Limited database access initially—criminal records for awakened individuals only, not general population data. Operational flexibility constrained to specific scenarios pre-approved by our legal team. And embedded observers with veto power over any operation they deem unethical."
"That's far more restrictive than what I proposed," Crimson Fang said.
"It's what we can offer without compromising our principles," President Ashford replied firmly. "If the trial period goes well and trust develops, we can expand access and flexibility. But we start conservative."
Crimson Fang was silent for a long moment, his crimson eyes studying her with unnerving intensity. Finally, he smiled—not the predatory grin from before, but something more genuine.
"You're a better negotiator than I expected," he said. "Most government officials either give everything away hoping for cooperation or refuse everything out of fear. You're actually finding middle ground."
"Does that mean you accept?" Victoria asked.
"It means we have a foundation for discussion," Crimson Fang replied. "But there are still specific loopholes we need to address. For instance, what happens when time-sensitive intelligence requires immediate action but your legal team's approval process takes days? What happens when my informants require protection that your systems can't provide? What happens when information I gather is accurate but obtained through methods your laws don't recognize?"
"Those are exactly the complications I mentioned," President Ashford said. "Which is why we need more than a handshake agreement. We need detailed protocols, clear escalation procedures, dispute resolution mechanisms. This partnership, if it happens, needs to be built on explicit understanding of boundaries and consequences."
"Which will take time we may not have," Crimson Fang pointed out. "The awakened community is evolving rapidly. Threats emerge weekly. While we spend months drafting protocols, people die."
"People also die when we rush into partnerships with unclear terms and conflicting values," Master Takeda said quietly. "Better to build slowly and well than quickly and poorly."
"The philosopher speaks," Crimson Fang said, not unkindly. "Very well. I propose this—we establish a minimal working relationship now. I provide intelligence on imminent threats only, verified by your observers. You provide limited criminal database access for verification purposes. No operational flexibility beyond normal citizen rights. No special treatment, no looking away. Just information exchange to prevent immediate dangers."
"While we negotiate the larger partnership terms," President Ashford finished. "That's actually reasonable."
"And it gets us past the current stalemate," Crimson Fang agreed. "I prove my intelligence is valuable. You prove your oversight is genuine. Both sides demonstrate good faith while protecting our core interests. After three months of this minimal arrangement, we revisit the full partnership proposal with actual evidence of how we work together."
President Ashford considered. What Crimson Fang proposed was a trial within a trial—a way to test the relationship with minimal risk while leaving room for growth. It was frustratingly cautious and strategically sound.
"Three months of intelligence sharing only," she said. "With the following constraints: all information must be verified by embedded observers before action is taken. All sources must be protected according to our whistleblower protocols. All intelligence gathering methods must comply with existing surveillance laws. Any violations result in immediate termination of the arrangement."
"And database access?" Crimson Fang asked.
"Criminal records for individuals currently under investigation for awakened-related crimes," President Ashford specified. "Nothing more. If you need broader access, you justify it case by case."
"Limited but workable," Crimson Fang acknowledged. "And after three months?"
"We evaluate honestly," President Ashford said. "If the arrangement has proven valuable and both sides have honored the terms, we negotiate expansion. If either side feels the relationship isn't working, we terminate without prejudice. No retaliation, no burning bridges. Just acknowledgment that partnership wasn't mutually beneficial."
Crimson Fang stood, extending his hand. "Then we have an agreement. A cautious, limited, carefully constrained agreement that neither side fully trusts but both sides recognize as necessary."
President Ashford stood as well, shaking his hand firmly. "The foundation of every successful partnership—mutual skepticism tempered by mutual need."
"Poetic," Crimson Fang said with that unsettling smile. "I'll have my people coordinate with yours on the embedded observer program. Expect intelligence reports starting next week."
He moved toward the door, then paused. "One more thing, Madam President. This conversation, this negotiation—it never happened officially. Viper Guild's relationship with the government remains ambiguous to outside observers. That ambiguity is valuable for both of us."
"Agreed," President Ashford said. "Publicly, we have no formal relationship. Privately, we have a working arrangement we're both invested in protecting."
After Crimson Fang left, Victoria Cross exploded. "That was a mistake. He's manipulative, dangerous, and playing every side. We just gave him government resources to build his own intelligence empire!"
"We gave him minimal access to test a hypothesis," President Ashford corrected. "And yes, he's manipulative. But he's also right—we desperately need intelligence capabilities for the awakened community. If he can provide that, it's worth the risk."
"And if he uses that access to build files on everyone, including government officials?" Victoria pressed. "If he turns that information into blackmail material?"
"Then the embedded observers will catch it and we terminate immediately," President Ashford replied. "That's why we're starting small. That's why every constraint we negotiated was designed to limit his ability to abuse the system. We're not trusting him—we're testing whether he can be trusted."
"A distinction he understands perfectly," Master Takeda observed. "Which is why he accepted terms far more restrictive than his initial proposal. He knows he needs to prove himself before gaining real access."
"And if he does prove himself?" Victoria asked. "If three months from now, his intelligence has prevented crimes and saved lives. Do we expand access?"
"Then we'll have to decide whether the benefits outweigh the risks," President Ashford said. "But that's a future problem. Today's problem was preventing another situation where we're completely blind to awakened activities. Today, we made progress."
She moved to the window, looking out at Valen's skyline. "We now have partnerships with three of the five major guilds—Zenith for enforcement, Sun for protection, and a limited arrangement with Viper for intelligence. We've publicly acknowledged our limitations rather than pretending we're in control. And we've demonstrated willingness to work with awakened organizations rather than trying to dominate them."
"And RedFlame?" Victoria asked. "And Blackhole Guild?"
"RedFlame will continue making dramatic demonstrations until they realize we're not playing their game," President Ashford replied. "Blackhole Guild seems content to remain neutral, which is actually preferable to having them actively opposed. We can't control everyone. We can only build systems that attract those who want something better than warlord politics."
Master Takeda stood, stretching slightly. "The question now is whether these partnerships will hold when the real test arrives."
"The apocalypse," President Ashford said quietly.
"Yes. When the Administrator's warning comes true and we face threats that make our current conflicts irrelevant. That's when we discover whether we've built something that can survive, or just rearranged deck chairs on a sinking ship."
"Cheerful thought," Victoria muttered.
"Realistic thought," President Ashford corrected. "Which is why we need to move quickly on implementing the regulatory framework. Get Zenith and Sun operational in their new roles. Establish the embedded observer program for Viper Guild. Build momentum before the next crisis hits."
She turned from the window. "Because one thing's certain—another crisis is coming. They always are. The only question is whether we're ready when it arrives."
---
That evening, in her private office, President Ashford drafted a memo to her senior staff:
SUBJECT: Integration Protocol for Guild Partnerships
Effective immediately, the following regulatory framework is established for managing relationships with awakened guilds:
1. Zenith Guild Integration
- Full military structure integration within 30 days
- Embedded liaison officers in all Zenith Guild operations
- Monthly review sessions with Grand Master Wei
- Quarterly performance evaluations by independent observers
- Budget allocation: £50 million annually
- Personnel: 12,000 awakened (estimated)
- Primary responsibility: Enforcement of awakened-related incidents in Eastern Territories
2. Sun Guild Integration
- Deputized law enforcement authority for specified crimes
- Embedded observers in all operations (minimum 2 per active case)
- Weekly reporting to Justice Department
- Case review by independent legal counsel
- Budget allocation: £30 million annually
- Personnel: 10,000 awakened (estimated)
- Primary responsibility: Investigation and arrest authority for awakened violence against women
3. Viper Guild Limited Arrangement
- Intelligence sharing only (no operational authority)
- All intelligence verified by embedded observers before action
- Criminal database access limited to active investigations
- Weekly intelligence briefings with national security team
- Compensation: Case-by-case basis, subject to verification
- Personnel: Unknown (estimated 14,000)
- Primary responsibility: Intelligence gathering on awakened activities
4. Non-Retaliation Policy
- No military action against RedFlame Guild for convoy incident
- Public messaging focused on cooperation over conflict
- Monitoring of RedFlame activities continues via intelligence channels
- Contingency plans maintained but not activated without Presidential authorization
5. General Regulatory Framework
- All guilds must register operations in their territories
- Monthly status reports required
- Dispute resolution procedures established via neutral arbitrators
- Emergency protocols for coordinated response to major threats
- Regular joint training exercises to build cooperation
Implementation Timeline:
- Week 1: Embedded observer programs deployed
- Week 2: Integration protocols activated for Zenith and Sun
- Week 4: First joint training exercise
- Month 3: Comprehensive review of all partnerships
- Month 6: Decision point on expansion or modification of terms
Oversight Authority:
Master Takeda appointed as Special Advisor for Awakened Integration, reporting directly to Presidential office.
The memo concluded with a single line that captured President Ashford's underlying philosophy:
We cannot control the awakened. But we can partner with those who share our values and marginalize those who don't. Success is measured not by submission, but by voluntary cooperation.
She signed the document, knowing it would be studied and debated and probably leaked within days. But that was fine. Transparency was part of the strategy—showing that the government was serious about working with awakened guilds rather than against them.
The real question was whether it would be enough when the apocalypse arrived.
But that was tomorrow's problem. Today, she'd built something that resembled a foundation. Tomorrow, they'd see if it could support the weight of what was coming.
---
Meanwhile, in an unmarked office building across Valen, Crimson Fang met with his senior lieutenants.
"The meeting went well," he reported. "They accepted a limited arrangement with room for growth."
"Do they suspect we're also negotiating with other guilds?" one lieutenant asked.
"They assume it," Crimson Fang replied. "Which is why they kept the terms so restrictive. But that's fine. We're not trying to become exclusively allied with anyone. We're trying to become indispensable to everyone."
"And when they discover we're providing intelligence to multiple factions?" another lieutenant pressed.
Crimson Fang's smile was predatory. "Then they'll realize we're exactly what we claimed to be—an information broker serving our own survival. As long as we never betray anyone's trust directly, never leak truly sensitive information, never pick sides in conflicts we can avoid, they'll tolerate our independence because they need what we provide."
He stood, walking to a map of Bristol covered in pins and markers. "The government gets crime prevention intelligence. RedFlame gets warning about government operations. Zenith gets information on unaffiliated awakened who might fit their recruitment criteria. Sun Guild gets leads on predators targeting women. And we get paid by all of them while building the most comprehensive intelligence network in Bristol."
"It's a dangerous game," one lieutenant observed. "If anyone realizes we're playing all sides—"
"They already realize it," Crimson Fang interrupted. "The smart ones, anyway. President Ashford knows I'm not exclusively loyal to the government. That's why she negotiated so carefully, built in so many safeguards. But she also knows she needs what I'm offering, and as long as I deliver value without crossing lines that would force retaliation, she'll maintain the relationship."
"And when the apocalypse comes?" another lieutenant asked. "When the Administrator's warning comes true?"
Crimson Fang's expression became more serious. "Then we'll be the only ones with enough information to coordinate an effective response. The government will need our intelligence networks. The guilds will need our communication channels. Even the monsters will find us difficult to surprise because we'll have mapped their movements, studied their patterns, identified their weaknesses."
He turned back to his lieutenants. "Survival isn't about being the strongest. It's about being the most connected, the most informed, the most indispensable. Let RedFlame demonstrate raw power. Let Zenith provide discipline. Let Sun offer protection. We'll provide the one thing everyone needs but no one else can deliver—knowledge."
The meeting concluded, and Crimson Fang was left alone with the map of Bristol. He added a new pin—noting the location of a group of unaffiliated awakened who'd caught his attention. Not threats, exactly, but unknowns. A party of three who'd cleared a major dungeon quickly, purchased high-grade equipment, and then disappeared into a residential area.
Interesting. Worth investigating further.
But not tonight. Tonight, he had intelligence reports to compile, deals to maintain, and a reputation to carefully cultivate.