The High-Tech Citadel of the White Hegemony did not know the concept of night. Artificial "Suns" hovered in the vaulted ceilings of the Grandmaster Academy, bathing the white marble and brushed chrome in a permanent, blinding glow. Here, everything was sterile, perfect, and absolute.
High Prince Valerius sat in the center of the Strategos Chamber. He wasn't looking at a map; he was looking at the Board.
Before him floated a massive, three-dimensional hologram of the Grid-lands. Thousands of tiny light-icons moved across the squares in real-time. Blue icons for the White Hegemony, flickering violet for the Black Kingdom. Every icon represented a life, a rank, and a probability of survival.
"Status on the 7th Vanguard's culling," Valerius commanded. his voice was smooth, like silk over a blade.
"Confirmed, Your Highness," Bishop Selene replied, her white robes humming with diagnostic energy. "The Pawn-fodder was successfully utilized to distract the Black battalion. Total depletion was 99.8%. The objective—the Southern Core-Spring—is secured."
Valerius tapped a finger against his throne. "99.8%. A rounding error."
He zoomed in on the Dead Zones. His eyes, enhanced by the "God-Eye" ocular implants, scanned the data stream. He loved the purity of the Board. Pieces were moved, pieces were captured. It was the only truth in a chaotic world.
Suddenly, his finger paused.
On the digital grid of the Dead Zones, a single, infinitesimal black dot was blinking. It was sitting on a square that should have been empty. It moved with a steady, deliberate rhythm that didn't match the erratic flight of a scavenger or the mindless wandering of a beast.
"Selene," Valerius said, his voice dropping an octave. "Why is there a signature on Square B-4? The 7th Vanguard was wiped out at A-2."
Selene leaned in, her brow furrowing as she ran a deep-scan. "It appears to be... a single Pawn signature, My Prince. But that's impossible. No Pawn survived the initial artillery strike, let alone a six-hour trek through a Class-5 mana storm."
Valerius watched the dot. It wasn't just moving; it was heading toward the Slums. It was heading toward the Wall.
"It's not just a Pawn," Valerius whispered, a cold smile spreading across his face. "It's the Thorne boy. The one with the blank eyes."
He remembered the branding ceremony. He remembered the quiet, unsettling way Itachi had looked at him—not with fear, but with the cold, analytical gaze of an equal. It had insulted Valerius more than any rebellion could.
"He's off the board," Valerius muttered. "A piece that is captured is dead. A piece that survives is a glitch. And glitches must be erased."
"Shall I send a Knight-Squad to intercept?" Selene asked.
"No," Valerius said, his eyes glowing with a sudden, sharp light. "A Knight is too loud. A Bishop is too predictable. This requires someone who understands the shadows as well as he does."
Valerius waved his hand, and a different frequency of light filled the room. From the floor of the chamber, a hidden elevator rose, carrying a figure draped in charcoal-grey armor that seemed to absorb the room's light.
This was Krow, the Shadow-Hunter.
Krow wasn't a Knight or a Bishop. He was a Specialized Piece—a "Raven" designed for the sole purpose of retrieving or executing pieces that went missing from the Board. He carried no sword, only a long, jagged chain made of solidified black mana.
"There is a Pawn," Valerius said, pointing to the flickering dot. "He thinks he can cross the Wall. He thinks he can promote. I want you to find him. Do not kill him immediately. I want to know how a piece of trash learned to walk through a storm."
Krow didn't speak. He simply bowed, his form flickering like static before vanishing into a cloud of dark feathers.
Valerius turned back to the Board, his gaze lingering on the Black side of the Wall.
"You may have [Stubborn Advance], Itachi," Valerius whispered to the empty room. "But the Board is mine. And I don't lose my pieces."
The stakes just went up. Itachi now has a specialized hunter on his trail while he tries to lead Lyra and Bas toward the Great Wall.