The large briefing room was filled to capacity with soldiers, Marines, Air Force pilots, naval officers, knight captains, adventurers, and group leaders, all seated at tables or standing along the walls. Several generals and commanding officers from both the U.N.E. and U.R.K. were also present, their faces guarded but attentive. Weapons were slung over shoulders or rested within easy reach; no one had completely let their guard down. Negotiations may have been successful, but trust was a currency not yet exchanged.

At the front of the room stood Sariel, Mikael, and Mariabelle, their imposing presences impossible to ignore. They were flanked by Martha and Edea, who maintained a measured calm, their hands resting lightly on their weapons. Anthony and Jacob stood at either end of the Apostles, ready to step in should anything go awry.

Sariel was the first to speak, her voice firm and unwavering. "I am Sariel, the 7th Apostle, titled 'The Blade of Judgment.' My role has always been to serve as the Cross Army's primary strategist and field commander. I excel in close combat and tactical warfare, ensuring swift and decisive victories on the battlefield. I am also deeply familiar with the methods of my fellow Apostles, which I will outline shortly."

Her words hung in the air for a moment before Mikael stepped forward, his demeanor suave yet serious. "I am Mikael, the 3rd Apostle, known as 'The Stormbringer.' My specialty lies in elemental magic—lightning, wind, and water. I was the Cross Army's spearhead in magical offensives, designed to break enemy lines and destroy fortifications with overwhelming force. My rank was earned not just for my strength, but for my ability to inspire fear and chaos among our enemies."

Mariabelle followed suit, her soft but confident voice carrying through the room. "I am Mariabelle, the 12th Apostle, titled 'The Song of Shadows.' My expertise lies in reconnaissance, assassination, and infiltration. Where brute force failed, I was sent to eliminate key targets, gather intelligence, or dismantle enemy morale from within. My methods were... discreet but effective."

A murmur rippled through the crowd as the troops and officers absorbed the introductions. Some shifted uncomfortably; others tightened their grips on their weapons. Trust was not earned easily, especially with adversaries who had spilled so much blood.

Sariel continued, her gaze sweeping the room. "You have questions about the Apostles who remain. I will provide answers, as their strengths and weaknesses are vital for our mutual success."

Mikael nodded, stepping up to join her. "But first, a correction. Edea, Martha... the 1st and 2nd Apostles you remember from centuries ago are no longer who they once were."

Edea's and Martha's eyes narrowed, their hands tightening on the table. "Explain," Edea said, her voice steady but edged with suspicion.

Sariel met her gaze. "The Apostles have always been reshuffled as wars and campaigns evolve. Those you remember as the 11th and 12th Apostles have risen to the top ranks—1st and 2nd now—taking on new titles and responsibilities."

Mikael picked up the explanation. "The current 1st Apostle is Raphael, the 'Hand of God.' He is the Cross Army's figurehead and possesses a divine-like presence that bolsters morale and unites the troops. His abilities include powerful healing magic and offensive light magic so potent it can obliterate entire battalions. He is the epitome of leadership on and off the battlefield."

Mariabelle interjected, her voice softer but no less grave. "The 2nd Apostle is Azazel, the 'Wings of the Abyss.' He commands the Cross Army's aerial and shadow divisions. His combat style is rooted in dark magic and manipulation, using fear as a weapon as much as raw power. Azazel is a master of psychological warfare and the most cunning of all Apostles."

Edea and Martha exchanged a glance, their memories surfacing. Edea's lips tightened. "Raphael and Azazel were ambitious even back then," she muttered. "They've grown stronger—and more dangerous."

Sariel nodded. "Indeed. Together, they represent the pinnacle of the Cross Army's might and ideology. They are also the most likely to be aware of our defection and will not hesitate to unleash their fury upon us—and you."

Mikael turned back to the room, his expression grim. "The remaining Apostles are as follows:

4th Apostle: Uriel, 'The Living Fortress.' A defensive specialist who commands impenetrable magical barriers and summons massive constructs to protect key Cross Army assets.

5th Apostle: Seraphina, 'The Flame Eternal.' A pyromancer of unrivaled skill, she wields fire that burns even underwater. Her role is to scorch entire landscapes to ash.

6th Apostle: Leviathan, 'The Tidal Wrath.' A master of water magic and naval combat. He commands the Cross Army's fleets and can summon tsunamis with ease.

8th Apostle: Ai, 'The Archer of Divinity.' You've seen her handiwork already. Her precision with ranged weaponry—arrows, light magic, and even improvised projectiles—is unmatched.

9th Apostle: Gabriel, 'The Voice of Heaven.' A manipulator of sound, capable of shattering eardrums or soothing entire armies into submission.

10th Apostle: Bezalel, 'The Smith of Souls.' A craftsman who forges enchanted weapons and constructs for the Cross Army. His creations are as lethal as they are unique."

Sariel finished the list and stepped back, letting the room absorb the gravity of the information. The tension was palpable.

David broke the silence, his voice laced with skepticism. "And you expect us to trust you after laying out the overwhelming power of the Apostles?"

Martha stepped forward, her voice calm but commanding. "Trust must be earned on both sides, Major. And this..." She gestured toward the iron case still on the table. "...is part of that process."

Edea opened the case with a flourish, revealing the heads of the slain Apostles. The room fell silent as the gruesome sight was revealed: Misa's head alongside the other three Apostles killed in action. Their lifeless faces were haunting, even in death.

"This," Martha said, her voice heavy with meaning, "is a reminder of what happens to those who underestimate the strength of our allies—or betray them."

The room remained silent, the soldiers and leaders processing the display. Finally, Stepan spoke, his voice cold but pragmatic. "You've given us their strengths and weaknesses. You've shown us the stakes. Now, prove that your defection is genuine. Fight with us, bleed with us, and perhaps, in time, we will believe in your commitment."

Sariel inclined her head. "Fair enough. Trust will be earned through actions, not words."

Mikael smirked. "Besides, we've already committed treason against the Cross Army by standing here. There's no going back for us now."

Mariabelle glanced at Edea and Martha, a faint smile playing on her lips. "You two were right about one thing: tea and weapons make for compelling arguments."

The room erupted in nervous laughter, the tension easing slightly but not disappearing entirely. Trust was a fragile thing, but for now, it was enough to move forward. The Apostles' defection was a turning point—one that could either lead to victory or disaster. Only time would tell.

Kurono, unable to shake the weight of Sariel's piercing gaze, finally spoke up. "Sariel, I need to know... Who are the Apostles in that case? We know Misa, but not the others. If we're going to fight the remaining Apostles, we need every scrap of information. And right now, your stare is making me think you already have something to say."

Sariel tilted her head slightly, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. She crossed her arms, her composure unshaken by the gravity of the question. "You've already connected the dots, haven't you, Kurono? I'll confirm what you suspect."

She turned her attention to the iron case on the table, the heads inside casting long, grotesque shadows under the harsh briefing room lights. Her voice was measured and calm as she gestured to the first head—a broad-faced male with deep scars running across his features.

"This is the 10th Apostle, Bezalel, 'The Smith of Souls.' He was responsible for the enchanted weapons and constructs used by the Cross Army. His skill in crafting artifacts and imbuing them with magic was unparalleled. A brute in combat, he preferred to rely on his creations, though he wasn't helpless without them. His death will cripple the Cross Army's supply of enchanted armaments."

The room was silent, the gravity of her words sinking in. Sariel then gestured to the second male head, a slender, almost ethereal face with sharp cheekbones and lifeless, closed eyes.

"This is Gabriel, 'The Voice of Heaven.' The 9th Apostle, master of sound manipulation. He was a manipulator in every sense of the word, capable of commanding entire armies through his voice alone. His death is a significant blow to the Cross Army's ability to maintain morale and cohesion."

Finally, she turned to the female head, her soft, delicate features betraying nothing of the terror she must have once instilled in her enemies.

"And this is Seraphina, 'The Flame Eternal,' the 5th Apostle. A pyromancer who was as destructive as her title suggests. Her flames were unlike any other—burning even in water and consuming everything in their path. Her death has removed one of the Cross Army's most devastating offensive weapons."

Sariel's gaze returned to Kurono, and this time, her smirk disappeared, replaced by a more somber expression. "With these four gone, only eight of the Twelve Apostles remain. Of those, three are standing before you. That leaves five—four, if Ai is still recovering from your rather... explosive methods."

Kurono nodded slowly, his mind racing as he processed the information. "So, Bezalel, Gabriel, Seraphina, and Misa are confirmed dead. That means Raphael, Azazel, Uriel, Leviathan, and Ai are the remaining Apostles we haven't faced yet."

"Correct," Mikael interjected. "Though Ai's recovery is temporary. If I know her, she'll be back to full strength soon enough. The others are still at their peak."

Mariabelle chimed in, her tone soft but serious. "Raphael and Azazel are the most dangerous. They were the ones who shaped the Cross Army into what it is today. The others follow their orders without question. If you intend to dismantle the Cross Army entirely, you'll have to face those two eventually."

Edea's and Martha's faces darkened at the mention of Raphael and Azazel, their memories of the two Apostles clearly resurfacing. "We know them all too well," Edea said quietly. "Their strength, their cunning... They've only gotten worse over the centuries."

Kurono clenched his fists, his resolve hardening. "Then we'll take them down, one by one, if we have to. This war isn't over until the Cross Army is nothing but a bad memory."

The room remained tense, though there was a growing sense of determination among the soldiers, Marines, knights, and adventurers present. Sariel, Mikael, and Mariabelle had offered invaluable information, but trust would still have to be built one battle at a time.

Sariel's gaze lingered on Kurono, her tone dropping slightly. "You've faced us before, Kurono. You know what we're capable of. Are you ready to fight alongside us, knowing that we were once your enemies?"

Kurono met her stare head-on, his voice unwavering. "If you're willing to fight for something better, then I'm willing to trust you. But if you step out of line, even once..."

Sariel smirked again, the hint of amusement returning to her face. "Understood. Let's hope it doesn't come to that."

As the tension in the room began to settle, the doors to the briefing room swung open, and the same black US soldier from earlier entered, his presence immediately drawing attention. His confident stride and mischievous grin signaled to everyone that he was about to stir the pot again.

He walked right up to the front of the room where Sariel, Mikael, and Mariabelle were seated, hands resting casually on his hips. He looked directly at Mariabelle with a gleam in his eye. "Alright, Miss Apostle Number Twelve, I gotta ask..." He paused for dramatic effect, clearly enjoying the moment. "How big are those titties, anyway?"

The room froze.

Most of the men in the room stiffened, trying—and failing—to hold back their laughter. Some had to cover their mouths with their hands or turn their heads to avoid the furious glares of the women present. The women, meanwhile, responded with synchronized glares or deadpan expressions, their collective disapproval almost palpable.

Mariabelle's face turned a bright shade of pink, her lips twitching between shock and a nervous chuckle. She adjusted her posture slightly, suddenly hyper-aware of the attention on her. "W-what kind of question is that?!" she stammered, though a soft, amused laugh escaped her despite herself. "You certainly are... bold."

The soldier raised his hands in mock defense, his grin unrepentant. "Just sayin', we were all thinkin' it, but somebody had to ask!"

"You were not all thinking that!" Mina barked, her face twisting in frustration.

"Actually," Vincent muttered under his breath, "he's got a point." His comment earned him a hard elbow to the ribs from Lily, who muttered, "Shut up, idiot."

Mariabelle shook her head, a reluctant smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Well, since you've asked so politely..." Her tone dripped with sarcasm, but she played along, crossing her arms under her chest. "Let's just say they're very proportional to my stature. Does that answer your inappropriate question?"

The soldier gave a mock bow. "Crystal clear, ma'am. Much obliged."

Sariel, who had been sipping her tea, let out a small chuckle. "I must admit, your directness is... refreshing. Though I'd recommend caution if you ever find yourself asking the 1st or 2nd Apostles a similar question. They might not be as forgiving as Mariabelle here."

Mikael smirked, leaning back in his chair. "I'd pay to see someone try. It would be the shortest conversation of their life."

Anthony cleared his throat loudly, snapping the room back to focus. "Alright, enough of this. Let's get back to the matter at hand before someone says something they'll regret. And you..." He pointed at the soldier, who was still grinning. "Take a seat before I make you run laps around the base."

The soldier held up his hands in mock surrender and found a seat near the back, still chuckling to himself. The room slowly settled back into order, though the air retained a lighter, almost mischievous energy.

As the meeting resumed, Mariabelle leaned toward Sariel and whispered, "I think I like these humans. They're strange, but... oddly endearing."

Sariel smirked. "Let's see if you still feel that way after a week."

The briefing room was interrupted again as the doors opened, and a sailor in a crisp uniform bearing the insignia of the Mexican Navy entered. His face was set with a grim determination, and he carried a thick folder tucked under one arm. He saluted the room sharply before stepping forward.

"Permission to speak, Commanders," the sailor said, his voice clear and serious, addressing the UNE and URK officers in the room.

Anthony, taking charge, gave a nod. "Go ahead, sailor. What's the report?"

The sailor stepped forward and placed the folder on the central table. "This is a debrief of our recent naval engagement near the Cross Army's presumed capital. The Mexican Naval Task Force, along with support from the UNE, was tasked with testing the waters—both literally and metaphorically. What we encountered... well, it's something you need to hear."

The room grew quiet as he opened the folder and began distributing satellite photos and tactical data. The images showed a massive armada of Cross Army vessels—medieval warships, galleons, and smaller, fast-moving craft. But what caught the room's attention was the stark difference between the modern and the medieval.

"We faced a fleet of roughly 500 ships," the sailor began. "Mostly galleons and caravels, supported by magical constructs and enchanted sea creatures. By modern standards, it should have been laughable."

"And?" Vincent asked, leaning forward with interest.

"And, at first, it was," the sailor replied. "Our destroyers cut through their fleet like a knife through butter. Our aircraft decimated their formations from above, and our anti-magic countermeasures neutralized their spells. Within two hours, more than 90% of their fleet was sunk."

Murmurs of approval rippled through the room, but the sailor's expression didn't lighten. "However, the real challenge wasn't their fleet—it was their Apostle. The 6th Apostle, Leviathan, also known as 'The Tidal Wrath.'"

Sariel stiffened at the name, and even Mikael and Mariabelle exchanged uneasy glances.

"You faced Leviathan?" Mikael asked, his voice suddenly sharp. "And lived to tell about it?"

The sailor gave a grim nod. "Barely. As soon as the fleet began to collapse, Leviathan emerged. And when I say 'emerged,' I mean she rose from the sea like a living tsunami. She's not just a warrior—she is the ocean."

The room grew still as he continued. "Leviathan summoned storms that blacked out our radar and disrupted satellite communications. The seas themselves rose against us, tossing even our largest destroyers like toys. Our planes were forced to retreat due to impossible wind conditions and lightning strikes."

"What about her personally?" Anthony asked. "Did you get a visual?"

The sailor nodded again, pulling out a grainy photograph taken from the deck of a destroyer. The image showed a towering figure wreathed in water, her form both humanoid and monstrous. Long, serpentine hair whipped around her face, and her eyes glowed with a piercing blue light. A massive trident was clutched in her hand, and her entire body shimmered with an otherworldly sheen.

"She led the counterattack herself," the sailor continued. "We hit her with everything we had—torpedoes, missiles, even experimental magical dampeners. Nothing seemed to faze her. She moved through the water faster than any vessel could track, and her trident could pierce through the hull of a destroyer in a single strike."

"Casualties?" Stepan asked grimly.

"Significant," the sailor admitted. "We lost two destroyers, an entire squadron of planes, and nearly 300 sailors. In the end, the task force had to retreat. We're lucky to have made it back at all."

Sariel's expression darkened. "Leviathan has always been... unique among the Apostles. She doesn't just command the sea—she is a force of nature. If she's stationed near the capital, that's a deliberate move by the Cross Army. They know she's almost impossible to defeat in her element."

"Then how do we fight her?" Kurono asked.

Mikael leaned forward, his tone serious. "You don't. Not unless you want to sacrifice thousands of lives just to stand a chance. Leviathan is not invincible, but defeating her requires strategy—luring her out of the water, isolating her from her element."

Mariabelle chimed in, her voice unusually somber. "Leviathan is one of the oldest Apostles, even older than Mikael and myself. She's clever, relentless, and utterly loyal to the Cross Army. If you're going to face her, you'll need to be prepared for the worst."

Edea and Martha exchanged uneasy glances. Edea finally spoke, her voice quieter than usual. "Leviathan was dangerous even centuries ago. Her power has only grown since then. But if you're going to take her on, you'll need more than brute force. You'll need ingenuity."

The room was silent as everyone digested the sailor's report and the Apostles' warnings. Anthony finally spoke, breaking the heavy atmosphere.

"Well," he said, his tone resolute. "It sounds like we've got our work cut out for us. But if Leviathan is guarding the capital, then she's a target we can't ignore. We'll start working on a plan—and this time, we'll make sure we're ready."

The sailor saluted before stepping back, leaving the room to discuss the next steps. The weight of Leviathan's presence hung heavily in the air, a reminder that the road to victory was far from over.

The briefing room door opened once more, and a soldier wearing CADPAT (Canadian Disruptive Pattern) camouflage stepped in alongside a Ukrainian soldier clad in his nation's fatigues. The Canadian soldier saluted smartly, her face unreadable but her tone decisive.

"Commanders, we have critical information regarding the 6th Apostle, Leviathan," she began.

Anthony gestured for her to continue. "Go ahead, Sergeant."

The Canadian soldier nodded, stepping aside to allow the Ukrainian soldier to bring in a tablet hooked up to a monitor displaying UAV footage. She spoke as the video was queued up. "You won't believe this, but Leviathan is confirmed to be dead."

The room, which had been buzzing with low murmurs after the previous report, fell silent. All eyes snapped to the pair.

"Dead?" Itami asked, his voice laced with disbelief. "She just wiped out a task force and made them retreat with their tails between their legs. Now you're telling me she's dead?"

"That's correct," the Ukrainian soldier confirmed. His voice was heavy with the distinct Slavic accent of his homeland. "Allow me to show you how."

He tapped the tablet, and the UAV footage began to play on the central screen. The room watched in rapt silence as the camera followed Leviathan, her massive, water-wreathed form tearing through the landscape. She was a terrifying sight, a walking storm that left chaos in her wake. But then, the video showed her heading in an unexpected direction—north.

"Where is she going?" Kurono asked, narrowing his eyes.

The Ukrainian soldier responded as the footage continued. "Toward Chernobyl. Specifically, Reactor 4."

Gasps rippled through the room. Those who understood the implications—scientists, commanders, and some veterans—looked shocked. Others, less familiar with the infamous site, glanced around in confusion.

The footage continued, showing Leviathan reaching the decaying remains of the Chernobyl Nuclear Power Plant. She tore through barriers and debris like they were paper, unstoppable even in the face of nature's most dangerous byproduct: radiation.

"She went straight into Reactor 4," the Ukrainian soldier explained. "No hesitation. And this... this is what happened."

The camera zoomed in as Leviathan descended into the heart of Reactor 4. Her form began to shift, her movements becoming erratic. The water that surrounded her evaporated into steam, and her glowing blue eyes flickered like dying embers. Within moments, her body convulsed violently.

"She absorbed the radiation," the Ukrainian soldier continued. "It was like she was trying to use it as a source of power. But..."

The footage showed Leviathan collapsing to her knees, clutching her chest. Her skin bubbled and blackened, massive fissures forming across her body. A horrific scream echoed, one that could almost be felt through the video. The Apostle's form disintegrated piece by piece, leaving behind only a charred skeleton and a faint blue light that dimmed until it was no more.

The room erupted into murmurs and exclamations of disbelief.

"She died from the radiation?" David asked, incredulous. "How does that even work?"

Simon then added. "Apostles are supposed to be virtually unkillable!"

Kurono, however, had gone pale. He leaned forward, his voice low but sharp. "Radiation... it makes sense. Apostles are powerful, yes, but their power is derived from the essence of life—magic, vitality, and the natural world. Radiation is the opposite of that. It's pure decay, the destruction of life on a molecular level."

Edea nodded, her expression grave. "Leviathan's arrogance led her to underestimate the danger. She probably thought she could consume the radiation and use it to grow stronger. Instead, it overwhelmed her magic and destroyed her from the inside out."

Martha added, her tone cautious, "This also means Apostles are not immune to every form of harm. Radiation is a powerful weapon, but it's uncontrollable and indiscriminate. It would destroy friend and foe alike."

Sariel, who had been silent, finally spoke. Her tone was measured but tinged with unease. "Leviathan's death is a testament to the destructive power of humans. If a force like her can be annihilated so completely... it is both a warning and a grim reassurance."

Mikael crossed his arms, frowning. "But it also raises a question: Why would Leviathan go to Chernobyl in the first place? She must have known the risks."

"Perhaps she didn't," Mariabelle suggested softly. "Or perhaps she was desperate. If the Cross Army is feeling cornered, they may be willing to take extreme risks. Leviathan's death could be part of a larger strategy."

The Ukrainian soldier spoke again, his voice somber. "For now, we have confirmed her death. But the area around Reactor 4 is even more unstable now. The radiation levels have spiked, and we've detected unusual magical activity. We recommend extreme caution if any operations are planned in that region."

Anthony nodded. "Thank you for the report. This changes things significantly."

As the two soldiers exited, the room was left in stunned silence. Leviathan's death was both a victory and a warning, a stark reminder of the destructive power humanity wielded—and the dangers of underestimating the forces they faced.

Kurono broke the silence, his voice heavy with thought. "If the Cross Army is willing to send Apostles into places like Chernobyl... we need to prepare for whatever desperation moves they have planned next."