Date: Unspecified Time: Unspecified Location: Myriad Realms, Lil. Red Storm realm
After taking in Wyatt's words, Henricks's haggard expression began to change. The exhaustion that had weighed down his features lifted, and for the first time in a long while, his face looked alive and determined, as if a heavy burden had finally been lifted off his chest. He exhaled deeply, his shoulders relaxing before he straightened up, his gaze now sharp and unwavering.
With firm resolve, Henricks replied, "Don't worry. If there's one thing my people aren't afraid of, it's hard work. What they are afraid of is living a meaningless life. And with what you're offering them—what you stand for—I doubt they'll be able to sleep soundly unless they're pulling their weight around here."
A faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, but it wasn't one of amusement—it was pride. He could vouch for the Freedom Fighters and their resolve. He had seen firsthand the lengths they were willing to go for something they truly believed in. If Wyatt could become that belief, he knew they wouldn't hesitate to give everything for him, even their lives, if it came to that.
But Henricks himself couldn't offer that blind devotion so easily. As the man responsible for millions of lives and their families, his trust had to be earned, and Wyatt knew that as well.
After a brief pause, Henricks's brow furrowed as a question surfaced in his mind. "Is this realm your fallback plan in case we lose to the second demon invasion?" he asked, studying Wyatt carefully.
The thought hadn't struck him until now. As natives of the Card World, the Freedom Fighters had always been acutely aware of the looming threat of a second demon invasion and what it could mean for their cause and their world. Yet, their dire circumstances left them little time or energy to focus on that distant catastrophe when their organization was teetering on the brink of collapse.
Now, with that immediate crisis seemingly resolved with Wyatt taking over, Henricks couldn't help but shift his thoughts to the future—and the grim possibilities it might hold. He crossed his arms, his gaze unwavering as he awaited Wyatt's answer. As a former Field Marshal for the central government, he understood better than most just how devastating internal strife could be during a foreign invasion. Not to mention, the enemies the Freedom Fighters were battling were the very pillars holding up the Card World. If those pillars fell, even though the Freedom Fighters might get closer to their cause but it would leave their realm vulnerable to a second demon invasion. Henricks couldn't ignore this. He wanted to gauge how far Wyatt had thought about the future of the Card World, especially since Wyatt was widely regarded as one of the most brilliant minds in it.
Not to mention, the enemies the Freedom Fighters were battling were the very pillars holding up the Card World. If those pillars fell, even though the Freedom Fighters might get closer to their cause but it would leave their realm vulnerable to a second demon invasion. Henricks couldn't ignore this. He wanted to gauge how far Wyatt had thought about the future of the Card World, especially since Wyatt was widely regarded as one of the most brilliant minds in it.
"It could be," Wyatt began, his tone casual yet calculated. "But no. I've got different plans for the demon invasion—I plan to take the fight to the dark realm." He paused, watching Henricks's reaction closely. Wyatt wasn't the type to overshare, but now that Henricks had essentially joined his side, he figured it wouldn't hurt to give him a glimpse of his long-term plans.
Henricks's eyes widened in disbelief, his mouth slightly agape. "Take the fight to the dark realm?" he repeated, his voice tinged with both shock and skepticism. He straightened up instinctively, his posture tense.
Everyone in the Card World knew that the only reason their ancestors had managed to end the first demonic invasion was because of their home-field advantage—the realm's will suppressing foreign souls. Without that, the war would've been ten times harder, if not outright impossible. The idea of marching into the dark realm, a place teeming with powerful beings and countless unknowns, felt reckless—if not outright suicidal.
"Are you serious?" Henricks asked, his tone incredulous. He leaned forward slightly, studying Wyatt's face for any sign that this was a joke.
"Nah," Wyatt replied with a faint smirk, shaking his head. "There's more to the dark realm than you know. Trust me on that. But don't worry about it for now. Just focus on carrying out my orders. When the time comes, and all the pieces fall into place, you'll see for yourself."
Wyatt's voice carried an air of calm authority, but there was an unmistakable edge to it—a subtle demand for trust. He wasn't asking Henricks to give him blind faith immediately, but the implication was clear: in the near future, as the Freedom Fighters integrated into his forces Henricks would need to rely on Wyatt's vision without question.
Henricks's brows knitted together in a mixture of frustration and unease. He wasn't used to being left in the dark, but he could sense that Wyatt wasn't going to elaborate further. For now, he would have to set aside his doubts and focus on the present.
"I understand," Henricks replied, his voice steady but tinged with a newfound sense of determination. Watching Wyatt stand shoulder to shoulder with a being as formidable as Dalie and give her commands without hesitation—then seeing them turn a barren, inhospitable realm into a thriving paradise for his people—convinced Henricks. It was time to start putting his faith in Wyatt.
"Wyatt," Dalie's melodic yet commanding voice broke the moment, drawing both their attention. "I've established multiple mass teleportation array formations in the metropolis at the teleportation stations you had me create. Now, all that's left is for you to set up the corresponding array formations in the Yellow Plains, and we can begin the mass migration."
Wyatt gave a small nod, a glimmer of satisfaction crossing his face. The metropolis, which the Hive Spirit had meticulously designed under Wyatt's direction, was nothing short of a marvel. It featured an intricate network of teleportation stations that functioned as a transportation system, allowing its citizens to move seamlessly within the city, to other parts of the Card Realm, or even to the Dark Realm. Its design was inspired by the ruler-class cities of the Dark Realm—urban behemoths protected by ruler-class beings.
"Perfect," Wyatt said with a confident smirk. Turning to Henricks, he added, "You guys wait here. We'll be back soon."
Henricks caught the subtle signal Wyatt gave him. Without hesitation, Henricks stepped forward, reaching out to grab Wyatt's wrist. His grip was firm but not forceful, his movements efficient, like someone who had done this countless times before.
In an instant, the two of them disappeared from Lil. Red Storm, heading straight for the Yellow Plains to set up the corresponding array formations and kick-start the migration plan without delay.