THE RISE OF THE FORGOTTEN KING

Inside the presidential palace, Erick stood patiently outside the door of the room where Guion was supposed to face Julius and the other members of the Big Five. He knew the gravity of the situation behind that door were four of the Big Five, including Julius himself. The room was spacious, with Julius seated on an ornate chair at the head of a large table, flanked by two of his comrades. The atmosphere was thick with anticipation, and Erick remained vigilant, ever aware of the potential danger.

As Guion entered the room, his eyes immediately locked onto Julius. "I see you've made it, Mick," Julius remarked, a sardonic smile playing on his lips. Guion's gaze shifted to Julius, a mix of determination and confusion in his eyes.

"He told us about you, Guion Marrow," Julius continued. "He mentioned that a certain police officer was coming our way, one known as the Blind One. It seems I was right."

Guion remained silent, his face set in a grim expression. Fury, one of Julius's companions, glared at him with evident disdain. "This whole conversation is starting to irritate me. I say we kill him now before I lose my mind," she said, her eyes radiating a venomous dislike.

"Careful, Fury," Julius warned, his tone cautious but firm. "He's one of us."

"And yet, he killed Fear," Michael interjected, his voice cold. "That proves otherwise."

Julius leaned back in his chair, contemplating. "We'll give Guion a chance to choose his side. If he chooses poorly, then we'll end him."

Guion, despite the provocation, kept his composure. He understood that this was a psychological game meant to unsettle him. "Before we start, I'd like to share a little about myself, about us," Julius began, his voice taking on a contemplative tone. "Decide?" Guion inquired, a flicker of curiosity in his eyes. "Yes," Julius replied. "Decide whether you are a hero or a monster."

Guion's expression remained stoic, though confusion bubbled beneath the surface. He was more focused on the reason for Annika's death, which he believed was directly tied to Julius. Julius's story unfolded, a tale of betrayal and loss.

Julius began recounting his father's legacy. "My father was the Overwhelm holder known as the Blind One. He was a kind man, the strongest of his kind, and ruled as the king of all Overwhelm as the legends foretold. When the world war broke out and our nation was on the brink of collapse, they turned to Overwhelm for help. My father agreed, and with our aid, the war was won."

He paused, his gaze distant as he continued. "We were hailed as heroes, our contributions immortalized with a statue of my father in his demon form. But that was short-lived. The newfound power led to unchecked ambitions, and soon, they feared that we would turn against them. They saw our strength as a threat and attacked us while we were unprepared."

Julius's voice hardened with anger. "The Big Five took the front line, unleashing chaos upon them. We became known as the Monster Society. When it became clear that the government could not match us, they attempted negotiation, but our people saw through their deceit. My father, the king of Overwhelm, was torn. He sympathized with humanity despite their treachery."

He continued, his tone bitter. "His compassion was seen as treason, and he was marked for death. Despite being far stronger than anyone, he was eventually betrayed and died from a chronic illness. The government, showing false gratitude, hospitalized him, but he could not be saved. Shortly after his death, threats from the government began, demanding that we keep our existence secret or face extinction."

Julius's eyes were fierce with hatred. "With the Big Five gone, we were left vulnerable, just children against a relentless army. We were hunted down mercilessly, our very existence treated as a threat. In a moment of sheer terror, Patrick, one of us, awakened the beast within—Fear. His panic froze the nation, almost killing everyone. But we survived, though we remained in hiding, our existence relegated to myth."

Julius's voice dropped to a grim whisper. "Ever since then, I've sought vengeance against humanity. I became king and vowed to claim back what was stolen from us, to make them pay for their betrayal. This is justice, as I see it."

While Julius spoke inside the room, the situation outside was dire. The real battle was just beginning. The military, now fully mobilized, was in beast mode, with their strongest air fighters led by Isabella, known as the Vulture and the most ruthless of the Monster Society's generals leading the charge.

The generals took the front line, drawing most of the attention from the aircraft. This diversion allowed the lower ranks to target the land machines with devastating effect. Tanks were thrown against one another, their occupants crushed as the generals showed no mercy. They ripped off tank doors and squashed them, the sounds of screams and destruction filling the air.

In the midst of this chaos, Royer fought valiantly against the generals. Initially, it seemed he had some control, dodging attacks and even managing to punch two of them into the ground. However, the tide quickly turned against him. The generals, much larger and stronger, overpowered him, beating him mercilessly. His punches were ineffectual against their formidable strength.

The lower ranks continued their assault, crushing tanks and slaughtering soldiers with ruthless efficiency. The scene was apocalyptic blood and debris littering the streets as the cries of the dying echoed through the air.

Amidst the carnage, a glimmer of hope emerged. High above the battlefield, a soldier skilled enough to take on a general, despite being a woman, took to the skies. She was an unexpected force, her prowess in combat a beacon of resilience against the overwhelming odds.

The Vulture, Isabella Centoris, was in her element, cutting through the enemy ranks with precision. Her presence on the battlefield was a stark contrast to the chaos below, a symbol of the military's unwavering resolve.

As Isabella's jet soared through the sky, her eyes narrowed in determination. She would need to turn the tide of this battle if there was to be any hope of survival.