Tower of god : The Big Shark In a Small pond

In the current silent expanse of the sky near the 35th Floor, a massive floating ship drifted in invisible mode. It was an imposing vessel, its sleek design exuding the elegance and power associated with the Zahard Army Inside, the corridors gleamed with white light, the polished floors reflecting the subtle blue tint of Shinsu monitors lining the walls. At the helm of the ship stood Arie Dradhma , commander of the 3rd Corp of Zahard's Army.

Dradhma, clad in a sharp white uniform edged with silver, gazed out of the panoramic window. His piercing silver eyes, a hallmark of his Arie lineage, scanned the distant Hell Train tracks below. A faint frown marred his otherwise calm expression. Beside him stood Barol Ha, the 1st Division Commander of the 3rd Corp , stocky man with dark auburn hair and a scar running down his cheek.

"It's quiet," Barol said, breaking the silence. His voice was gruff, but his tone carried respect. "Too quiet, if you ask me. The Hell Train's activity has increased, and yet not a single Ranker has dared approach the floor since the restrictions were implemented."

Dradhma turned slightly, his gaze still fixed on the window. "The restrictions are effective. They were designed to keep meddling Rankers away while we monitor the situation. Regulars are less predictable, but they aren't our concern for now. Our focus is on the rebellion."

Barol frowned. "The 'Rebellion Order'… Do you really think they're bold enough to use the Hell Train to mobilize? It seems reckless, even for them."

Dradhma's lips curled into a faint, humorless smile. "Recklessness often breeds results. Desperation drives innovation. They've lost patience with Zahard and the 10 Families. That much is clear. The rebellion's roots may be scattered, but their influence is growing. And the Hell Train is a perfect stage for them—hidden paths, unpredictable players, and no oversight from us."

Barol shifted uncomfortably. "If we're so aware, why not strike them preemptively?"

Dradhma's gaze hardened. "Patience, Barol. Striking too early could expose our lack of understanding. The rebellion is like a hydra—cut off one head, and two more will grow in its place. We need to identify their leaders, their structure. That's why we observe."

Barol nodded, though the tension in his stance remained. "And the regulars on the train?"

Dradhma's voice lowered. "The Hell Train is their battleground. Let them fight, scheme, and kill each other. Those strong enough to survive will reveal their true allegiances. It's only then that we'll make our move."

Barol's eyes narrowed. "And if the rebellion manages to use the train to gather forces?"

Dradhma turned fully to face his commander, his silver eyes gleaming with a cold intensity. "Then we remind them why the Arie Family has never been dethroned. Why Zahard's rule has never faltered. If necessary, Barol, we will paint the train red with their blood."

A tense silence hung between them before Barol let out a low chuckle. "I suppose I shouldn't expect anything less from you, Lord Dradhma."

Dradhma's expression softened, but his tone remained firm. "Remember this, Barol. A battle is not won by swinging a sword recklessly. Victory lies in knowing when to draw it."

Barol nodded again, this time with a hint of a smile. "Understood, Commander."

As the ship drifted further into the Shinsu-filled skies, Dradhma turned back to the window. His thoughts lingered on the rebellion, the Hell Train, and the uncertain future ahead "Well, Barol," Dradhma began, his voice measured but carrying a weight that filled the room, "I believe the Royal Enforcement Division might already be on the move. It's critical, given the nature of this rebellion—it consists of members of the 10 Great Families themselves. That's no small matter."

Barol's expression tightened, his brow furrowing as he processed the implications. "Members of the families... defecting?" He paused, hesitant, before continuing. "That's a bold move. They must know what kind of death warrant they're signing."

Dradhma allowed himself a faint smirk. "Bold, perhaps. But desperate men often mistake audacity for strength. And rebellion isn't bred in strength—it's bred in despair." He paced slowly, the echo of his boots filling the silent room. "Somewhere along the line, these individuals decided that even the Tower's unshakable hierarchy was flawed. A dangerous mindset, but not unexpected."

Barol followed his commander's movement with sharp eyes. "Still, to involve members of the great families... They know the consequences better than anyone. What could drive them to such lengths?"

Dradhma halted, turning to face Barol fully. "What drives all rebellion, Barol? Resentment, ambition, greed—and above all, a belief that they can succeed where others have failed. The Hell Train has always been a breeding ground for such idealists." His voice dipped, colder now. "And it's our job to ensure those ideals never manifest into reality."

Barol crossed his arms, his tone skeptical. "Do you think the Royal Enforcement Division can handle this alone?"

Dradhma chuckled softly, the sound devoid of humor. "The enforcement division doesn't 'handle' things, Barol. They eliminate them. The names they've already marked for death might not even know they're targets yet , deadly and merciless. If they're involved, some of these rebels are already walking corpses."

Barol nodded, but his unease lingered. "And yet... The army keeps us stationed here. If the rebellion moves toward the Hell Train then —?"

Dradhma's smirk faded, replaced by a stern expression. "—The enforcement division acts like a scalpel, cutting out the problem , they operate in secret , rebellions are like hydras—cut off one head, and another takes its place , that's why we're here to Wipe the rebellion"

Barol exhaled slowly, nodding in understanding. "You always think further ahead, Commander. But what if they're smarter this time? If they've infiltrated the ranks?"

Dradhma's eyes narrowed, his voice dropping to a whisper. "They already have. I'm certain of it."

Barol stiffened, his mind racing. "Inside Zahard's Army?"

Dradhma nodded. "Perhaps even higher than that. This rebellion isn't like the petty uprisings we've seen before. They've grown bolder, more strategic. And if members of the 10 Great Families are involved, they'll have resources and knowledge that few could dream of." He leaned closer, his tone sharpened. "This isn't just a rebellion. This is a challenge to Zahard's legacy."

Barol swallowed, the gravity of Dradhma's words sinking in. "So... what's the next move?"

Dradhma turned back to the panoramic window, the skyline of the 35th Floor gleaming below them. "We wait. The Hell Train is bait, whether they know it or not. Let them come. Let them think they're safe. And when the time comes..." His voice turned to ice. "We'll remind them why Zahard's rule remains unbroken."

Barol stepped forward, his hand resting on the hilt of his blade. "And if they get past us?"

Dradhma's smirk returned, deadly and confident. "They won't. Not while I'm here."

Barol's expression hardened, his respect for his commander deepening. "Understood, Commander."

The two stood in silence, the weight of their mission settling over them. Above the shimmering skyline, the invisible floating ship hummed quietly, an unyielding sentinel against the chaos brewing below.

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Throw some stones guys.