Ethan descended from above, landing with a solid thump on the crown of Blackie's massive head. The impact rippled faintly through the beast's dark scales, but Ethan was already moving, his Combat Mech retracting in a smooth cascade of segmented metal that folded back into a sleek wrist-mounted unit, no more conspicuous than an advanced watch.

"Make yourself smaller," he said, his voice tight with irritation.

Blackie hesitated just a fraction too long. Ethan responded by stomping down sharply, channeling a pulse of that new, nameless energy through his foot.

CLANG!

The sound rang out like a hammer striking an anvil, far louder and heavier than when Ethan had once smacked Blackie with a steel beam. The force carried a sting that went straight through bone and pride alike.

"OW! What was that for, Boss? That hurt!" Blackie yelped, his enormous body shrinking rapidly until he stood a mere ten meters tall. He rolled his eyes upward in an exaggerated glare. "You're embarrassing me in front of everyone!"

"Shut up," Ethan snapped.

The sharpness in his tone left no room for protest. Blackie fell silent at once, though he couldn't stop himself from muttering under his breath, "There goes my hundred chickens…"

Ethan ignored him completely.

The scene sent a shock straight through Blackfin. The casual way Ethan had reprimanded and physically disciplined the Black Qilin left him stunned. This Blackie was not just some powerful ally, he was this man's mount. Ethan had kicked a legendary beast in the head like it was a misbehaving dog. Who the hell was this guy?

Then memory caught up with him. The woman, Mirage, and that assassin had called him the Druid God. Blackfin was one of the rare few who had never entered Ethereal, so the title meant little to him in concrete terms. Still, watching what stood before him now, the name no longer sounded absurd.

A man who rode a Black Qilin as a steed… could he really be a god?

Blackfin had long ago abandoned belief in higher powers, having drowned such thoughts in blood and gunfire. Yet now, a cold, superstitious chill crept up his spine. Do the gods really watch from above? Cold sweat beaded across his back as fragments of old sins surfaced uninvited in his mind.

"Mickey, isn't it? Or… Michael Reed. Something like that."

The voice cut cleanly through his spiraling thoughts. Ethan stood atop the shrunken Qilin, one hand casually outstretched. From the groaning heap of mercenaries piled together like a grotesque human mountain, a single man was abruptly torn free, yanked into the air as if caught by invisible strings. He floated there helplessly, stopping just in front of Ethan.

It was Voss, leader of the Apex Predators.

Like Blackfin, he was of American descent, and like Blackfin, his true name was unknown to nearly everyone. His alias had long since replaced his past. Unlike Blackfin, however, his business was utterly rotten. Drugs, illegal arms, human trafficking, anything that made money without regard for consequence, Voss dealt in it. He sat high on the US most-wanted list.

Ethan recognized him instantly. In his previous life, during the later stages of the Nation Wars, a news report had aired announcing the capture of a major fugitive. That was when the man's real name had finally been revealed. Michael Reed. Childhood nickname, Mickey. The self-styled title of Voss had been something he'd chosen for himself out in the badlands.

No one here knew that name. Until now.

The moment Ethan spoke it aloud, Voss's carefully maintained composure cracked. Suspended in midair, panic flickered across his eyes, sharp and unmistakable. When Ethan followed up by asking about Ethereal, Voss nodded so quickly it bordered on desperation.

"Y-yes… it's mine!"

Satisfied by the immediate confession, Ethan nodded once. "I assume you've heard of me. In Ethereal, they call me the Druid God."

Voss's eyes widened even further. "You're the Druid God? Leader of the Renegade Alliance?"

Ethan's expression didn't change. "You have two choices," he said evenly. "Life, or all of you die here."

The words carried the weight of a final judgment, as if a verdict had already been passed and he was merely announcing it. Not just on Voss, but on every man tangled in that broken heap behind him.

"I choose life!" Voss blurted out without hesitation. "The Apex Predators mercenary group and my guild, the Apex predators, we're at your service. Whatever you need."

"Hmph. At least you're smart."

Ethan flicked his wrist. The invisible force vanished, and Voss dropped unceremoniously back toward the ground. At the same time, Blackie shrank further, his massive form collapsing inward until he resumed his human shape. Ethan leapt down, landing lightly in front of the mercenary leader.

He glanced back at the remains of Blackfin's camp. Nothing stood intact. Smoldering wreckage and twisted debris were all that remained. Ethan shook his head once.

"We'll talk here. First, the rules."

His gaze sharpened. "One: you're a mercenary company, not a crime syndicate. No more drugs, no gambling rings, no flesh trade. Arms are your business. Everything else stops. Especially trafficking."

Voss swallowed hard but nodded.

"Two: from now on, you do zero business with or against the US. No operations targeting its interests, and no harm comes to its people."

Another quick nod.

"Three: your two outfits are merging. You both work for me now. As for the chain of command…"

Ethan turned his head. "Blackfin. Get over here."

Victor had given him a quick rundown on Blackfin during their earlier exchange. Compared to most mercenary leaders, Blackfin ran a relatively clean operation. Weapons and security were his trade, without the filth that usually followed. Victor had even hinted that bringing him in might be worthwhile.

Ethan had already been thinking along those lines. In the real world, beyond his core group, he had no true organization. He couldn't have his closest allies running every task themselves. Seeing Voss and his men had only reinforced the idea. If he wanted influence outside Ethereal, he needed a real force.

A flicker of excitement stirred in his chest. He thought of his mother, the Lord of the Underworld, commanding legions of Nether Legionnaires with a single gesture. That kind of authority… he wanted to feel it for himself.

At the sound of his name, Blackfin stiffened. Victor gave him a firm, encouraging pat on the back, earning a grateful glance.

"Go on," Victor said quietly.

Blackfin nodded, drew a deep breath, and jogged forward alone, leaving Victor, Amber, Rainie, and Micah behind. Under normal circumstances, approaching the Apex Predators' line by himself would have been suicide. One burst of gunfire at this distance would tear him apart. But with Ethan and Blackie standing there like an immovable wall, he felt a strange, unfamiliar courage settle in his chest.

The Apex Predators were still struggling to free themselves from the tangled mass of bodies. The human mountain hadn't fully settled yet. Blackfin wouldn't have been surprised if some of the men at the bottom had already been crushed. That wasn't his concern.

What mattered was what the Druid God wanted with him.

Ethan and Voss had spoken calmly after he landed, their voices carrying no more urgency than a business negotiation. From a distance, Blackfin hadn't been able to hear their words. As he drew closer, Blackie, now in human form, ambled over with unsettling ease and slung a heavy arm around Blackfin's shoulders.

"Hey, kid," Blackie said with a wide grin that showed far too many teeth. "Looks like your luck's about to change."

Blackfin flinched instinctively at the sudden movement, his body reacting before his mind caught up. It took him a moment to process the words, and even longer to reconcile them with the strangely friendly tone coming from a being that had been a towering monster just moments earlier.

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