Chapter 98| The Summons Returns
The invitation arrived three weeks into their well-earned respite, delivered through the same formal WHRIB channels that had once summoned them to their very first Council review, though this correspondence carried a weight considerably beyond anything Allen had previously encountered.
"Formal request for attendance," Myria read aloud, scanning the document with sharp, focused attention. "Global Emergency Summit, convened by direct order of the WHRIB Commander, addressing the confirmed emergence of what the document diplomatically terms ’an unprecedented ancient anomaly.’" She glanced up, meeting Allen’s gaze. "They’re calling it publicly now. Carefully worded, but publicly."
"The Commander is addressing this personally?" Vivian asked, surprise evident in her voice. "I thought Farrow said the Commander almost never makes public appearances."
"Apparently this crisis warrants an exception," Myria said, continuing to scan the document. "The summit’s scheduled in three weeks, hosted at a secure WHRIB facility outside Zurich. Representatives from every allied nation, senior Association leadership, and—" she paused, something flickering across her expression, "—explicit invitation for Party Fallen Crown to attend as featured witnesses to the Emperor’s direct manifestation."
Allen absorbed the weight of that request carefully, exhaustion and renewed obligation mingling in his chest despite the preceding weeks’ genuine, restorative peace. "Featured witnesses," he repeated. "Meaning we’d be speaking publicly. To representatives from every allied nation."
"Meaning exactly that," Myria confirmed. "The Commander apparently believes firsthand testimony from the only Hunters who’ve directly encountered this entity carries considerably more weight than secondhand reports alone."
Irene, sprawled nearby with her usual restless energy, sat up with sudden, focused attention. "That’s a lot of exposure," she said. "A lot of very public, very high-profile exposure, right when we’re already dealing with two considerable ongoing crises."
"It is," Allen agreed. "But if it helps the world actually understand and prepare for what we’re facing, I don’t see how we can reasonably decline."
Everlyn’s notepad appeared briefly before she set it aside, choosing instead to speak directly, her restored voice carrying quiet, thoughtful consideration. "Do we have any say in how much we’re asked to share? I’m not entirely comfortable with our system becoming public spectacle, given everything that’s already happened with unwanted attention in the past."
"A fair concern," Myria said. "I’ll draft careful boundaries before confirming our attendance. We can share what’s genuinely necessary for global preparedness without turning ourselves into an open book for every curious government or opportunistic guild."
Allen nodded, grateful for Myria’s characteristic thoroughness even amid the considerable weight of the invitation itself. "Confirm our attendance," he said. "With those boundaries clearly established beforehand."
They spent the following weeks preparing carefully, Myria coordinating extensively with Farrow’s office to establish appropriate parameters for their public testimony, while continuing the guild’s steady operations and, in quieter moments, Allen’s own private preparations for what remained of the Wasteland’s still-patient, waiting promise.
It was during one such preparation session, reviewing summit logistics with Farrow via secure video connection, that Allen noticed something in the Vice Commander’s expression that gave him quiet pause.
"Is everything alright?" he asked, studying her uncharacteristically guarded demeanor.
Farrow hesitated before answering, something carefully weighed behind her measured response. "The summit’s elevated security requirements have proven considerably more complex to coordinate than our standard protocols typically demand," she said. "Six participating nations, unprecedented public visibility, and a threat profile our organization has never previously had to account for in security planning." She paused. "I won’t pretend I’m not somewhat anxious about the logistics involved, Hunter Veton. This will be, without question, the largest, most exposed gathering of WHRIB leadership this organization has ever attempted."
"Is there anything we can do to help with that preparation?" Allen asked.
"Simply attend, and testify honestly," Farrow said. "That, and perhaps maintain the same vigilance you’ve demonstrated throughout every previous crisis. I’d rather have Fallen Crown’s instincts present at this gathering than absent, given everything we still don’t fully understand about the threats currently converging around this organization."
Allen absorbed her words carefully, an unfamiliar unease settling alongside his own preparation, though he couldn’t quite articulate exactly what specifically troubled him about her careful, measured caution.
"We’ll be there," he said finally. "Watching, and ready for whatever the summit actually demands of us."
Farrow’s expression carried quiet, grateful relief. "Thank you, Hunter Veton. I have a feeling we’re going to need every capable, watchful presence we can gather, before this particular gathering concludes."
The connection ended shortly after, and Allen found himself lingering in the quiet study a while longer, turning her carefully guarded unease over in his mind, unable to fully shake the sense that something beyond the summit’s obvious, considerable logistical challenges had been left deliberately unspoken.
Vivian found him there eventually, her restored senses immediately picking up on his troubled stillness. "You’re doing that thing again," she observed, settling beside him. "The quiet, thoughtful thing that usually means something’s bothering you."
"Farrow seemed unusually anxious," Allen admitted. "More than simple logistics should account for, given everything she’s already navigated calmly during the Jenunl crisis."
"Maybe it’s simply the scale," Vivian offered. "Every allied nation, unprecedented public exposure, an ancient threat none of them fully understand. That’s a considerable amount of pressure for anyone to carry, regardless of experience."
"Maybe," Allen allowed, though the uneasy feeling lingered regardless.
Vivian studied him for a long moment, enhanced senses and restored sight both clearly working to parse whatever instinct he couldn’t quite fully articulate. "Whatever it is," she said finally, "we’ll be ready. The same way we’re always ready."
Allen nodded, drawing quiet comfort from her steady presence, and allowed himself, for the moment, to set the unease aside in favor of the considerable preparation still required before their departure for Zurich.
But the feeling didn’t fully leave him, not that evening, and not in the weeks that followed, as their preparation steadily progressed toward a summit that would, in ways none of them could yet properly anticipate, test every ounce of vigilance Fallen Crown had painstakingly built across a year of impossible trials.