The Author's Draft

Chapter 82 - 1: Seventy-Two Hours II

She stepped forward, addressing the room rather than just Rothmann. "And you want to throw away the majority of humanity because they don’t have mana cores? Citizens are the foundation of everything we do. They build our equipment. They grow our food. They maintain the infrastructure that lets us operate as hunters. More than that—protecting people is our fundamental duty. It’s why hunter guilds exist in the first place."

"Noble sentiments," Rothmann replied coldly. "But nobility doesn’t win wars. Resources do. And we have limited resources facing an enemy that’s an entire evolutionary stage ahead of us."

"Then we find more resources instead of abandoning millions to die," Margot shot back.

Graves raised his hand, his voice cutting through the argument before it could escalate further. "That’s enough. Both of you sit down."

Neither moved immediately, but after a long moment they both returned to their seats. The tension in the room remained thick enough to cut.

"I understand the frustration," Graves said, his tone measured. "But infighting doesn’t help anyone. We’re looking for solutions, not philosophical debates about who deserves to live." He paused, scanning the room. "Does anyone have actionable proposals? Something we can implement in the next seventy-one hours?"

Silence again. Then someone from the back spoke up—a guild representative whose banner wasn’t visible from the camera angle.

"Yeah, here’s an actionable proposal," the voice said, dripping with bitterness. "Maybe officials should stop sitting around eating and delegating all the actual problems to hunters while taking credit for the solutions."

A few uncomfortable laughs rippled through the room. Nobody argued with the statement because everyone knew it was at least partially true.

Graves didn’t react to the jab. "Anyone else?"

A man raised his hand from the Chinese delegation. Graves nodded toward him.

"Shen Yuwei, Crimson Fang Guild," the man introduced himself in accented but clear English. He was young—maybe twenty-three at most—but carried himself with the kind of presence that made age irrelevant. Dark hair, sharp features, and eyes that assessed the room like he was already three steps ahead of everyone in it.

The camera lingered on him for a moment, and the news anchor’s voice cut in briefly with context: "That’s Shen Yuwei, who at eighteen became the youngest SS-rank awakener in recorded history. He took control of Crimson Fang Guild two years ago and has since transformed it into one of the most formidable organizations in Asia. Many consider him the second strongest human alive, surpassed only by his father."

The feed returned to the summit as Shen stood, addressing the room with the calm demeanor of someone who’d commanded dangerous situations since before most people his age finished university. "I have a proposal that might actually help."

"We’re listening," Graves said.

Shen stood, addressing the room. "Every country holds annual awakening ceremonies for citizens who turn eighteen. The ceremonies happen on the same day globally—it’s been standardized by international agreement for the past forty years." He paused. "This year’s ceremony was scheduled for three months from now. I propose we don’t wait."

Interest sparked across the room. Several delegation heads leaned forward.

"Push the global awakening ceremony forward to today or tomorrow at the latest," Shen continued. "Activate emergency protocols. Test everyone who’s scheduled for this year’s ceremony immediately instead of waiting three months."

Murmurs spread through the hall, but this time they were largely in agreement rather than argument.

"But that’s not all," Shen added. "There are people who awakened in previous ceremonies but never registered because their rank was too low or their abilities seemed useless. E-rank, F-rank, skills that don’t fit combat roles." He looked around the room. "Those people need to register now. Every awakened individual needs to be accounted for because we need all the help we can get, regardless of how weak their abilities seem."

More nods around the room. The proposal was gaining traction.

"There’s one more thing," Shen added. "We should request military support. Formal military cooperation from national armed forces."

That caused some hesitation. A guild head from Brazil stood. "Conventional weapons have limited effectiveness against awakened threats. We’ve known this for sixty years. What makes you think bullets and missiles will work against Valdris forces?"

"We don’t know they won’t work," Shen countered. "Valdris is a Stage 3 planet with advanced mana integration, yes. But we don’t know if their forces are resistant to conventional damage. Artillery support, air strikes, coordinated military-hunter operations—these could make a significant difference if we utilize them properly."

"Or they could be a waste of resources that should go to hunters," Rothmann said from his seat.

"Or they could save lives when hunters are overwhelmed," Margot shot back without standing.

Graves raised his hand again before the argument could restart. "The proposal has merit. Emergency awakening ceremonies, mandatory registration, military cooperation." He looked around the room. "Anyone want to add to this?"

A representative from South Korea stood. "Emergency training programs. We can’t just awaken civilians and throw them into combat unprepared. We need crash courses—basic mana control, simple combat techniques, survival protocols."

"Safe Zones," someone from Australia added. "Designate fortified locations in major cities where civilians can evacuate when the barriers fall. Concentrate our defensive forces around those points."

"Rift monitoring systems," a Canadian delegate suggested. "Global coordination of rift surveillance so we can track which barriers are weakening faster and prioritize resources accordingly."

The proposals kept coming. Within fifteen minutes, they’d outlined a comprehensive emergency response protocol that would require unprecedented international cooperation.

Graves let them finish, then tapped the microphone again. "Alright. We have a framework. Now we need to vote." He pulled up a digital display showing the core proposal points:

Emergency awakening ceremonies activated globally within 24 hoursMandatory registration for all awakened individualsMilitary cooperation formally requestedEmergency training programs establishedSafe Zone designation in major population centersCoordinated rift monitoring network

"First vote," Graves said. "Does anyone disagree with this proposal?"

The room fell silent. Nobody raised their hand, though Rothmann looked like he wanted to.

"Second vote," Graves continued. "Who agrees with this proposal?"

Hands shot up across the hall. The camera panned across the room showing the overwhelming majority—maybe eighty percent of the delegates voting in favor. A few abstentions, but clear consensus.

Graves nodded once. "The proposal passes. Emergency awakening protocols will be activated globally within twenty-four hours. All other measures will be implemented simultaneously." He leaned into the microphone, his expression grave. "I want to be clear about something—this isn’t going to save everyone. We’re going to lose people. Millions, probably. But this gives us a fighting chance to save some instead of losing all."

He straightened. "You all have your assignments. Contact your guilds and associations immediately. We have seventy hours and forty-three minutes before the barriers fall. Let’s make them count."

The summit ended with delegation heads already pulling out phones, shouting orders to assistants, coordinating with their organizations. The camera lingered on the chaos of the room—these were humanity’s strongest forces, and even they looked uncertain about the coming war.

The feed cut back to the news anchor.

"You heard it here first," she said, her voice tight. "Emergency awakening ceremonies will begin within twenty-four hours across all nations. If you haven’t been tested yet, prepare to be contacted by your local Hunter Association. If you’re already awakened but unregistered, registration is now mandatory."

She paused, reading something off-screen. "We’re also receiving reports that major cities are establishing Safe Zones—fortified locations where civilians can shelter when the dimensional barriers collapse. Check your local government websites for designated Safe Zone locations in your area."

The camera zoomed in on her face. "Seventy hours and forty-one minutes remaining. Stay safe. Follow official instructions. And if you can fight, be ready to fight."

The broadcast switched back to the conference hall showing the aftermath of the summit.

Aiden sat on his bed, staring at the screen.

Emergency awakenings. Mandatory registration. Safe Zones. Military cooperation.

They had a plan. Seventy hours to implement it, and every major guild and association in the world moving at once.

He should register his real abilities. The thought crossed his mind immediately—second stage Slaughter Intent, first stage Sword Intent, third stage Sword Aura. Those were the kind of abilities that could make a difference.

But registering meant questions he couldn’t answer. Where did you awaken? What constellation sponsored you? Why aren’t you in any records?

The countdown in his vision continued its relentless march.

[70:41:15... 70:41:14... 70:41:13...]

His phone buzzed. A text message from his mother:

Almost there. Traffic’s a nightmare but we’re getting close. Don’t leave the flat. We’re coming to you.

Aiden replied quickly: I’m here. Be careful.

Another buzz. This one was a notification from the Hunter Association:

MANDATORY NOTICE - EMERGENCY PROTOCOLS ACTIVATED

ALL CITIZENS AGED 18: REPORT TO NEAREST HUNTER ASSOCIATION BRANCH FOR MANDATORY AWAKENING CEREMONY WITHIN 24 HOURS

ALL UNREGISTERED AWAKENERS: REGISTRATION IS NOW MANDATORY. REPORT TO NEAREST BRANCH WITHIN 48 HOURS

FAILURE TO COMPLY WILL RESULT IN PENALTIES INCLUDING RESOURCE RESTRICTION AND LEGAL ACTION

THIS IS NOT OPTIONAL

Aiden dismissed the notification. He was twenty-two, so the awakening ceremony didn’t apply to him. But the second part did.

The TV continued showing footage from the summit, replaying key moments and analyzing the proposals. Experts were already discussing implementation challenges, debating whether seventy hours was enough time, speculating about what Valdris forces would be capable of.

None of them had answers. Just educated guesses based on incomplete information.

Aiden stood and walked to the window again. The sky was still black with red lightning. The rifts hung in the air like wounds, and through the nearest one he could still see the armies waiting.

Seventy hours.

His mother and brother would be here soon. His father was safe in lockdown.

And somewhere out there, millions of eighteen-year-olds were about to be tested early while previously hidden awakeners were being forced to register.

[70:10:04]