Boer's words echoed through the conference room. The map of power formed from metallic particles hung silent, like congealed blood and tears.
At some point, the flames in the distant fireplace had dwindled a little. Light and shadow danced across everyone's faces, making their expressions even deeper and harder to read.
"Of course," Boer's voice broke the brief silence. He raised his hand and waved it gently, and the map scattered like a tower of sand.
"These are only my own rough ideas. The Revolutionary Army has traveled the world for years. Mr. Dragon must have a more mature path, one better suited to actual conditions. After all..."
He paused, his gaze sweeping over Dragon and Kuma as his tone turned exceptionally grave.
"What we face is a monster that has ruled this world for eight hundred years. The Celestial Dragons aren't just slave owners-they possess lost, cutting-edge technology and control the Marines, the most efficient machine of violence in history. More terrifying still, eight hundred years is enough to hammer the lie that 'they are gods, noble by birth' into the very marrow of billions, turning it into an almost instinctive belief. The revolutionary cause... has a long, hard road ahead."
His words were sober and stark, without a trace of blind optimism. As Dragon listened, the scrutiny in his eyes finally gave way entirely to a regard approaching that of an equal-this young man saw far too clearly.
Boer sat back down, leaning slightly forward with his hands clasped on the table.
The relaxed smile vanished completely from his face, replaced by an almost somber seriousness. The ends of his silver-white hair cast faint shadows over his brow, making his azure eyes look even deeper.
"Actually," Boer began slowly, his voice low, "aside from our plans for the