MIGHT AS WELL BE OP

As Anthony and Spectre engaged in yet another round of chess, the very fabric of space and shadow contorted, twisting as though sentient, before giving way to the sudden emergence of Kingsley.

"So it's you," Spectre said calmly, his gaze briefly shifting to Kingsley before returning to the board.

Without lifting his eyes from the game, Anthony spoke, his blue eyes fixed with quiet focus.

"How did the interrogation go?"

Kingsley took the seat beside him, exhaling deeply as he replied, "Quite the ordeal... and then, rather unexpectedly, I was released."

"You weren't unexpectedly set free by chance."

Spectre said, sliding his rook forward with deliberate grace, a faint smile tugging at his lips, an indication that his strategy was unfolding as planned.

"What do you mean?" Kingsley asked, his gaze drifting toward the chessboard.

"It wasn't some grand cosmic twist," Spectre replied smoothly. "Anthony is the one who secured your release."

His voice was calm, almost gentle, as he leaned back, waiting for Anthony to make his move.

Kingsley's eyes slowly shifted from the board to Anthony, who remained focused.

"My mother is the Supreme Monarch of this military base," Anthony said, his tone composed.

Kingsley's eyes narrowed slightly. Though he had recently known that Anthony's parents held the rank of Supremes, he hadn't expected one of them to be the Supreme governing this planet.

"I have to say, your Will is remarkable."

Anthony continued with a faint smile, moving his king piece across the board, he glanced up briefly, voice still calm.

"Resisting mental intrusion of such level isn't something many can manage. Even back in the Bleeding Hollow Zone, when we disembarked from the aircraft, you rose into the sky using your Will alone. It was as if the world itself obeyed your intent."

Kingsley raised an eyebrow, mildly surprised. He had never shared the extent of his abilities with anyone, certainly not Anthony.

"How did you know?" he asked calmly, his voice composed, his posture unfazed by the revelation.

Anthony didn't answer immediately. Instead, he moved a piece with calculated ease, then spoke, his tone steady, almost detached.

"Just because your Will shields you from mental intrusion, and the Universe itself veils your fate, doesn't mean there aren't forces that transcend both."

His gaze lifted briefly, meeting Kingsley's for the barest moment before returning to the chessboard.

Of course, the force Anthony referred to, one that stood above both the Universe and Kingsley's formidable Will, was the Authority Of Information.

Kingsley didn't press further. His abilities were no secret. He simply chose not to explain them. Most wouldn't understand, and even if they did, there was little they could do to counter him.

"I still don't see what you're getting at," he said, unbothered by Anthony's insight into his Will.

"I'm not getting at anything," Anthony replied coolly, eyes still on the board. "It's just rare to meet someone with an ability I don't already possess."

He moved his final piece into place, then looked up with a faint, knowing smile.

"Checkmate."

Spectre didn't flinch at the result. His focus wasn't on the game, it was on their conversation.

He had once tried to purchase information on Kingsley through the system, but the cost had been astronomical. Even the system treated Kingsley like a secret too valuable to unveil.

Just as Kingsley opened his mouth to speak, the door swung open. Seraphim and Reynold entered with composed expressions, but Dale's face was clouded with frustration.

"How can the military justify forcefully reading our minds, after everything we've done for them?" Dale exclaimed, dropping into a chair with a heavy sigh.

"You have to understand the stakes, Dale. Did you not see how many traitors were uncovered? The numbers were... overwhelming."

Reynold replied as he took a seat beside him.

Though Reynold also disliked having his mind probed, he understood the necessity. The stakes were too high. Besides, he suspected the Inspectors operated on an entirely different scale of power, they didn't need to be summoned.

If they chose to, they could extract memories from a distance, swiftly and without resistance.

"He's not upset because the military betrayed his trust," Seraphim said from the side, a faint smile playing on her lips. "He's upset because someone else now knows all his dirty secrets."

Reynold shifted his gaze toward Kingsley, seated quietly beside him.

"You were interrogated too, weren't you? How did you return before us?" he asked, curiosity laced in his voice.

Kingsley gave a simple, straightforward account of his unique situation, withholding nothing.

"Hoo..." Reynold exhaled in astonishment. "To think your ability is so powerful it could even shield you from the Inspectors themselves."

His tone was one of genuine awe.

Then their bodies froze the moment they heard, Anthony's mother was the Supreme Monarch of the base. The memory surfaced of a Warlord personally arriving to summon Anthony, now making far more sense in hindsight.

"To think your mother is the Warlord of this entire base. Doesn't that basically mean you can do whatever you want?"

Dale muttered, his mind already racing with the advantages and shortcuts.

Reynold leaned in, draping an arm around Anthony's shoulders. "Come on, at least let us meet her. Introduce us, bro!"

Anthony smiled, unfazed. "You'll meet her," he said, his voice light but teasing, "when you become Warlords, or Supremes."

The room fell silent.

Though each member of the team was undeniably talented, the notion of reaching Warlord, let alone Supreme, felt distant, if not impossible.

They weren't delusional; they understood that, with the right encounters or fortunate breakthroughs, they could ascend quickly.

But for now, this was their reality.

And as Anthony's words hung in the air, there was a subtle sting, a quiet suspicion that he might be mocking their potential.

"So," Seraphim began, her gaze shifting to Spectre seated beside Anthony, "how did your interrogation go?"

Spectre responded with his usual composure.

"I'm just a Corporal-ranked soldier. What information could I possibly possess that would interest the demons?"

Dale leaned forward, eyes narrowing slightly.

"Was your mind read as well?" he asked, directing the question toward Anthony.

Before Anthony could answer, Reynold interjected.

"If his mind was read," he said, tone sharp with implication, "then wouldn't that mean the son of two Supremes was being suspected of treason? And beyond that, whoever dared to probe his mind would've gained access to countless techniques and arts passed down to him since birth."

As Reynold's words settled in the air, the rest of the group slowly nodded, the logic difficult to deny.

Yet none of them knew the truth.

Anthony had never received the so-called wealth of techniques passed down from his parents. In fact, the only technique he had ever taken from the family's treasure vault was the very first one, granted to him nine years ago, right after his awakening.

Everything else, he earned on his own by working hard every single day to sign-in.