[center][b][i]Revelations[/i][/b][/center]

[center][i]“Attention all players. I, the Black King, ruler of the Ebony Strykers, am allowing any and all to join my Guild. This will be the first time I have done so in the entirety of Deep Ground’s launch. Please, choose your allies wisely.”[/i][/center]

“What a crazed witch.” Michael muttered to himself as he walked with a brisk pace through the halls, hunched over like an igor. He fiddled with his green scarf nervously, lacking the mentality to put together words to describe the emotions he was currently feeling. It was a mixture of astonishment and despair, the feeling of complete and utter blindness. The unexpected had occurred, and it was biting every kingdom in the ass. Chances are, as the king sulked through the hallways towards his meeting room, multiple players were leaping at the chance to join the Ebony Strykers. It would probably become as famous of a trend as short jeans, or something along the lines of irritable. As he proceeded to the guild room, students were energetic, running through the halls to reach their own destinations. Though, each individual took the time to greet the king with their vibrant eyes, bombarding him with questions about his opinions on the matter. All Michael could do was put on a kind smile and reserve his comment for a later time, as he was in quite the hurry. A student caught up with him from his behind and matched his pace, as they were heading to the same meeting room. Though it wasn’t a rule to have a set dress code for followers of kingdoms, all of the members gladly obliged to following Michael’s example and draped scarves of the kingdom’s color around their necks. It didn’t matter what time of year it was, the rangers were loyal throughout, and openly expressed their positions in real life. 

The elder to his side was a seventeen year old student named [i]”Yamato”[/i], who operated as the boy’s right hand man. [b]”Good afternoon, si-”[/b] Michael was quick to raise his hand to silence the senior, then collapsed all his fingers except for his pointer, “Hey, Yamato, what did I tell you about calling me by that formal stuff? I may be a king, but I’m a new one. I have yet to truly earn the title. Anyways, what is the status on the members who have entered the interface?” It took a few moments for the guy to respond, since he was simultaneously running GDP whilst walking with the king. [b]”All 36 members are accounted for. They are currently waiting in the base meeting room for your arrival.”[/b] Michael nodded and let out a sigh of relief, “They were probably so excited that they left their bodies in their desks. I’m sure only a few went through the hassle of walking down to the sanctity of our assigned room. The school went through the hassle of furnishing it with beds, chairs, fancy tables, even a coffee machine. Eh, what’s done is done.” He trailed off as they rounded a corner, then stopped at a wooden door. 

Yamato quickly stood in front of Michael and held the door open for the king. The boy was half-tempted to make another comment, but since time was of the essence, he brushed off the lingering feeling. “Alright, you notify everybody that I will be there in a minute.” His comrade gave a short nod, happily taking on the order as he sat down in a furnished chair. Within a matter of seconds, his comrade had already dove into the game. Michael breathed in deeply, fully taking in the room and its calming appearance. As per the usual, the spacious room and all of its furnitured was completely covered in the color green. It could have been mistaken as a grassy plain if it wasn’t for the flat walls. “...The Black King’s room must be pretty depressing. I’d feel my morale drop within a second if I stepped foot in such a place.” He spoke to himself as he sat on his personal sofa. The boy closed his eyes and cleared his mind of any thoughts, allowing himself to enter the interface.

[center][b]Welcome, Silent Death[/b][/center]

The screen displayed the welcoming before him, which he instinctively proceeded past, finally taking form in the game. He came to in his private room, built at the bottom of the base. Michael stood up from the bed and looked at himself from the mirror sitting firmly on a dresser. His face was exactly the same as his features in real life. Though, instead of a uniform and a scarf, he was protected by an almost full suit of stealth armor. [i]”An armor to protect myself with, and to disappear from everybodys’ sights.”[/i] The attire portrayed his inner personality perfectly. Michael grabbed the helmet off of the dresser and fastened it tightly on his head, he then walked to the other side of the room and slung the ASVK over his shoulder. Normally, the rifle would way a little more than 12 kg, a fourth of his actual weight. Though, with the buffed stats and high level, the sniper was as light as a feather. He sprinted out of the room and made his way to the meeting hall, where all of his followers stood at the ready. 

The Fanged Rangers, being a relatively small faction consisting of only a few dozen members, only controlled a small portion of the city. Though, compared to the rest of the regions, the kingdom is considered a haven without any bloodshed. Michael has managed to remain neutral with the rest of the kings by not taking any drastic actions, he decided to let them fight amongst eachother. The rangers were more of a family than a kingdom, each member knowing the others on a personal level, they operated as a cohesive unit which patrolled and kept peace in their area. If an individual, usually of guildless origin, attempts to break said peace, they are either disposed of by non-violent or forceful means. Compared to the other glamorous kingdoms, Michael’s consisted of a more urban setting, the complete opposite of the stunning skyscrapers and strongholds of the others. Through these means, Michael has followed through with the previous king’s wishes and kept the faction out of harm’s way. The boy stretched out as he enter the hall, standing on a stage. Before him were the 36 members, who were gossiping and conversing about the recent events. But as soon as the king cleared his throat, they were all instantly brought to a hush. He glanced at them, reading each of their expressions. They were all waiting expectantly for the words to roll off his silk tongue.

“As you all know, with the recent announcement, the Ebony Strykers has opened recruiting policies. I am sure she will gain a mass of followers, mostly those of mutinous or guildless descent. Now, before I continue, does anybody here wish to follow such a path? I will not hold it against you, I’m sure the chance comes with many benefits.” He stood there at the podium, his eyes darting down each row. But, nobody spoke up; instead, they stood there with their right arms over their chest, fully pledging their allegiance. A smile formed under the helmet, “Good. Now, [b]how shall we go about this[/b], I’m sure most of you are wondering. Well, we’ll follow through with the same procedure we’ve been abiding by these past months. Since the Fanged Rangers are a generally neutral faction, the option to open communications with the Black King is possible. I will head out soon enough.” He sighed deeply into the microphone, staring at his guild mates, “But, may I warn you. There will be changes. Though they won’t be made by us, we will most likely find ourselves in the middle of the fray. I request that all of you stay strong, remember who is on your side, and protect each other. Revelations are happening, my dear friends.” The members gave shouts of agreement, “Alright, now, let’s get re-” 

Michael was cut off when an error message popped up before him, notifying him that the GDP server would instantly be shutting down. He awoke with a start in his room, along with the members who were present. Instantly he bolted onto his feet, “Everybody, get to your classrooms and wait for the public announcement. I will check in with a few other kings if I run into them.” The few members gave a quick [b]Yes Sir![/b] before darting out of the room. Michael was about to stop them, but he let it go with a wave of his hand. He grabbed a cup of coffee with haste and ventured back to his own classroom. Students were following the same suit, sharing their experiences about the recent occurrences. On his way back to his room, he passed the School President, walking through the halls with the look of determination in her eyes. He took a sip of his beverage as he entered his classroom and took a seat, listening in on the announcement which was soon broadcasted.