The first pod hissed open.
Blue liquid drained rapidly from the chamber, splashing onto the sterile white floor. From within the mist, a tall figure slowly emerged.
Leonard staggered forward, his legs weak and trembling. His long black hair clung wetly to his shoulders and back. His body, perfectly sculpted from years of training in his new vessel, still felt foreign — heavy, slow, like waking from a century-long sleep. He took one unsteady step, then another, until he finally planted his feet and stood straight. His sharp eyes lifted and locked onto the group of scientists watching him from behind the observation glass.
In the Grand Assembly Chamber far above, the council members sat in stunned silence. The earlier excitement had faded into nervous tension. Many had just lost significant bets. Faces were tight, jaws clenched. One man, a stocky councilor with a thick neck, broke the quiet.
"Why are your people just standing there staring at him?" he snapped toward the head of House True. "Order them to help him now!"
The head of House True didn't flinch. His voice was calm, almost reverent.
"No… not yet. We are about to run the final test to confirm the ritual's success. We must check if their memories remain intact — if they still know exactly who they are."
The entire council fell deathly silent. Every eye turned back to the massive screen. The pale blue lights in the chamber seemed to dim further, as if the room itself was holding its breath.
In the ritual lab, the scientists moved forward in perfect unison. They approached Leonard, then dropped to one knee in a single, fluid motion, heads bowed low.
"Welcome, Lord Leonard," they intoned together, their voices filled with deep respect.
Back in the council chamber, someone whispered urgently, "What are they doing?"
The head of House True answered without taking his eyes off the screen. "Lord Leonard is a humble man. If that is truly him… he will tell them to rise."
Everyone watched, barely breathing.
On the screen, Leonard took a step back. His eyes narrowed as he studied the kneeling scientists. Then, without hesitation, he moved forward and gently but firmly placed a hand on the nearest man's shoulder.
"Stand up," he said, his voice still hoarse from disuse but carrying quiet authority. "All of you. I am a servant to the Realm of Men. There is no need for this."
He turned his gaze toward the empty pod behind him, then looked down at his own hands, slowly tightening them into fists.
"So… the ritual was successful," he murmured. A small, dangerous smile touched his lips. "We are back."
He raised his head, eyes burning with purpose.
"I am back."
The council chamber exploded into applause and cheers. Men and women rose from their seats, clapping fiercely, shouting in triumph. The sound was raw, almost desperate — the sound of people who had been carrying fear for decades and suddenly saw a glimmer of hope.
But the head of House True raised his hand for silence.
"It is not over yet," he said quietly.
He whispered into his comms device, "Begin the final test."
In the lab, the scientists rose. One of them stepped forward and spoke clearly.
"Lord Leonard… the High Lord wishes to see you."
Leonard's expression changed instantly. His eyes sharpened with recognition and loyalty.
"Where is the High Lord?" he asked urgently. "His weapon has returned. I am ready to serve."
A scientist gestured toward a large camera mounted on the wall. "He is watching through this feed, my lord. But first…"
Another scientist approached silently, carrying a long, sheathed sword with both hands. The moment Leonard saw it, his entire posture changed. Recognition flashed across his face. He stepped forward, took the sword with reverence, and walked directly toward the camera. Without a word, he dropped to one knee, planted the sword vertically in front of him, and bowed his head, both hands resting on the hilt.
At that exact moment, the other seven pods began to drain.
One by one, the remaining anti-Bloodline beings staggered out — weak, disoriented, bodies glistening with blue liquid. They paused when they saw Leonard kneeling. For a heartbeat, confusion clouded their faces.
Then, without a single question or hesitation, all seven walked forward and knelt beside him in perfect formation, swords or hands pressed to the ground in the same gesture of absolute loyalty.
A scientist's voice crackled over the comms, clear and triumphant:
"Ritual successful. I repeat — ritual successful."
The council chamber erupted.
Men shouted, fists pumped the air, some laughed with pure relief. The fear that had gripped them for years — the terror of another Bloodline uprising — suddenly felt distant. Their greatest weapons had returned.
The head of House True allowed himself a small, exhausted smile. "Yes… we did it."
Then the High Lord's voice filled the chamber once more, calm and commanding.
"Put me on speaker for the anti-Bloodlines."
The connection was made.
The High Lord spoke directly to the eight kneeling figures on the screen, his voice warm, almost paternal.
"Please rise, my lords. I am the one who should be grateful and honored to serve you. Heroes and legends of our realm… your servant welcomes you back."
The answer came immediately, in perfect unison from all eight voices — deep, powerful, and unwavering:
"We are your weapons and your servants. You are our High Lord. Your commands we execute. As long as we breathe… men will rule the world… under you."
Though the council could not see the High Lord's face, they could hear the smile in his voice when he spoke again — the rare, almost childlike joy that only appeared in moments of true victory.
"The meeting is finished," he declared. "We are all going to the main estate of House True to celebrate."
The council members began packing their things with bright energy. Conversations broke out in excited pairs as they filed out of the chamber — talking about the successful ritual, the lost and won bets, the sudden increase in the High Lord's power, and most of all, the sharp reduction in their fear of rebellion from the LOST Realm.
For the first time in many years, the future felt a little less terrifying.
And in the heart of it all, eight ancient weapons had returned — ready to serve once more.