Whispers of humanity

The arena was in a dense silence, a silence that resounded louder than any clamor Wembley had ever witnessed. Marcus's shrill cry, "He is human!", hung in the air, an invisible cloak stretching over the crowd - holding weapons at the ready, breaths caught short, the flow of time perceptibly slowed.

In the distance, a ballet of drones buzzed in the sky, their cameras capturing, in high definition, the static of disbelief. The presence of these artificial observers was a tacit reminder of global vigilance - the eyes of the World Government and S-ranks from all corners of the planet were fixed on those present, waiting, assessing, biting the nails of diplomacy.

Reactions reverberated through frequencies, filling command centers and living rooms with the tension of the moment. World Government leaders looked at each other in loaded silences, aware that Marcus's accusation could unleash a political hurricane. The S-ranks felt a chill creep up their spines, wondering if they were about to witness a milestone in dungeon history - or a colossal mistake.

At the epicenter of the drama, Elizabeth Rose, the crown jewel of English hunters, felt her earlier words desert her as if they were traitors. 'Human words' – those same words now echoed within her like an enigma to be unraveled, not just with the blade, but with awareness. Her eyes fixed on Thomas, she reconsidered every battle plan, every premise of her training. 'What if?' – this question, a ghost of possibilities, threatened to tear through the certainty of her mission.

Leo and Arthur, the strategists of the Association, exchanged alarmed looks over their electronic tablets laden with data. This was an unprecedented situation that would require delicacy and cunning; the mere insinuation of humanity in the one they had seen as a threat radically altered the rules of the game. They couldn't simply ignore Marcus's words - there was too much at stake, from national security to interdimensional human rights.

The pause was tangible, a wire stretched to the point of snapping. Some hunters began to lower their weapons, looking around for guidance that did not come. Others remained static, suspicion and training combating the inherent human instinct to hesitate in the face of doubt.

Elizabeth took a step forward, her presence a force of its own, her words now the tip of her foil. "In the name of the Hunter's Association and the English crown, I call for an immediate ceasefire. We will assess the truthfulness of this claim before proceeding." Her order, though quivered by the uncertainty of her own conviction, was heeded - a wave of precarious calm spread through the ranks of her subordinates.

Before her, Thomas remained an enigma, his humanity in question, his essence debated on a global stage where every country held a front-row seat. He offered a faint nod in her direction - a sign of respect? Of challenge? Hard to say.

Marcus, having unleashed the shout that might well have been the cry of his career, now felt unarmed, vulnerable. The potency of his declaration caused reality to reshape before his eyes, and there he stood, at the epicenter of the tremor he had caused.

The reactions continued to unfold, each face, each entity, each nation absorbing the magnitude of the moment. The potential humanity of Thomas was like a key tossed into the air - it could unlock doors or seal secrets forever.

And so, as the drones captured every movement and every breath, the chapter of humanity to which Thomas belonged awaited to be written – the ink still wet, the conclusion still unknown.

---

As Elizabeth's scrutinizing eyes remained fixed on Thomas, she kept her foil at the ready, the blade reflecting a kaleidoscope of possibilities. Her voice took on the cadence of a command, but her hand was steady, controlled. "We will take you into custody until we are certain you are not a threat."

Thomas observed the veiled hostility and rigid stance of the hunters around him and sighed, a reluctant admiration for civility amidst chaos. He ran his hand through his hair in a genuinely human gesture, his attention shifting back to Marcus, the man whose words had put him in this precarious position. "Okay, I'll go into custody," he agreed with audible resignation.

Thomas's response brought temporary relief to Elizabeth. She wouldn't have to take more drastic actions, not today. Yet, she was aware of the ramifications of such a decision. Detaining, even temporarily, a being whose humanity was a flame alight with debate, could be a more complicated move than any physical combat.

The hunters around eased up but didn't completely let down their guard, their distrust not entirely dissipated by Thomas's consent. Elizabeth signaled two of her most trusted hunters to escort Thomas. The move was procedural, yet the chains forming were not of metal but of questions and responsibilities that now weighed on every shoulder in that stadium.

And as Thomas began his controlled march to the custody point, the tension in the stadium palpably decreased. Elizabeth turned to Marcus, her expression as laden with inquiries as the skies of London were often with clouds. "You have not just altered the course of our action but perhaps our perception as well. I hope you realize the magnitude of your words."

Marcus, feeling the gravity of those words, nodded silently, his assertion imbued with a complexity he was only beginning to comprehend.

Leo and Arthur, after overcoming the initial shock, immediately began to weave through their devices a network of communications, sending orders and requests for information. If Thomas was indeed human, what would that mean for the jurisdiction of the hunters? Would terrestrial legislation apply to him? And even more importantly - what secrets could he reveal?

As the drones continued their ballet of surveillance, the world watched, a growing chorus of debates and theorizations starting as soon as news of the atypical prisoner spread. Rulers and ordinary citizens alike paused to ponder the nature of this "beast" taken into custody under the pretext of being, perhaps, one of their own.

Elizabeth's decision and Thomas's subsequent submission would reverberate far beyond the walls of Wembley. History had been diverted from its predicted course, all eyes awaited what the next chapters would hold in this saga not only of monsters and dungeons but chiefly of humanity.

---

Within the impeccably arranged studio that served as a sanctuary for physical magnificence and power, John watched the unfolding events at Wembley Stadium from across the Atlantic. His eagle eyes were fixed on the screen, digesting every detail of the scene.

John, a name nearly monosyllabic, as common as it was uncommon for all it conveyed. In the United States, this singular designation called to mind something almost mythic; he was not just a man, he was an entity, a colossus that stood tall not only in stature but in reputation. Towering at an overwhelming 2.50 meters, the S-rank hunter was not merely a titan among men – he was a living legend that the country celebrated as the pinnacle of strength and valor.

His ranking as the third strongest hunter in the world was more than a title; it was a totem of admiration and respect. But for John, it wasn't enough. At his core, a voracious hunger for ascension consumed him - an ambition that stretched far beyond any known border.

The image of Thomas on the screen sharpened John's appetite, a burning desire for conquest pulsating in his competitive vein. "If I can defeat this beast that emerged through an S-rank portal, I would be lauded by all," he mused, each word woven with a hunger for glory and power. "And I might even rise to rank 1 as the strongest hunter in the world." The possibility of such a feat filled him with an almost juvenile excitement, a spark of emotion embedding itself in his usually impassive eyes.

For someone like John, Thomas was not an enigma to be understood but an obstacle to be overcome, another rung on the ladder of prestige that only world-class hunters dared climb. He didn't see Thomas—he saw the reflection of his own ambition to be fulfilled, the ultimate challenge that would solidify his legacy.

"Safely in the custody of Elizabeth?" he scoffed at the scene unfolding on the screen. "Does England really think they can hold me back?" The possibility of Thomas being human was a concern for bureaucrats, not for him. Laws? Consequences? To John, those were words as hollow as the space between muscles and victory.

From his posture emanated a gravitational confidence, a firm knowledge that his presence was a law unto itself. And Elizabeth, valiant as she might be, was merely a player on a board that he dominated. "Weaker," he muttered with a sneer of disdain. In the power game, she was a piece, he was a player—a incontrovertible truth he carried like a crest.

Rising from his throne of triumph, John already envisioned the scene—he, striding through the portal, a colossus descending upon the English realm with the audacity of an ancient god. "To fight against Thomas..."—the thought ignited his veins with pure adrenaline. It didn't matter who Thomas was or what he represented; to John, he was nothing more than the next contest, the next trophy to adorn his gallery of triumphs.

A shadow of a smile twisted on his face; where others saw a political complication, John saw only an adversary. "Let England try to stop me."

---

Author's Notes:

Global Containment Law for S-Rank Hunters - Decree No. 47/2045

Article 1: It is established that all S-Rank hunters are forbidden from crossing international borders to enter another nation, except with explicit and documented approval from the relevant governmental authorities, due to their recognized potential risk equivalent to a "calamity level."

Article 2: Non-compliance with this law will subject the violator to severe international sanctions, including condemnation by the global community and possible multinational military intervention, aiming to preserve world order and security.