Chapter 825 Join The Fight

After Irene’s speech, Alpha King Elijah wasted no time bringing the room to order.

“So…” he said, his eyes gleaming with anticipation, “all in agreement? We fight for the humans and rid our world of this… disease.” The last word rolled off his tongue with open distaste.

Ezra was the first to raise his hand.

A few of the sub-alphas openly snarled through their noses, though none of them were surprised. Ezra had his pack planted deep in human territory, and his Luna was human. Of course he would be the first to support the cause.

But beneath all of that, there was also jealousy.

Ezra was just a sub-alpha, yet here he was making decisions on behalf of the West pack all because Asher Nightshade was absent. It stirred something ugly inside of them.

Because if their own alphas were dead like Henry, and their heirs were to suddenly… go missing?

Yeah. The thought of revolt had definitely crossed some minds once or twice. But thinking it and doing it were two very different things. None of them were brave—or stupid—enough to actually try.

Irene raised her own hands mere seconds later, calm and composed as ever. Then Leon and Caspian lifted their hands at almost the same time, both of them glancing at each other with raised brows.

And just like that, it was over. With the hands of the Cardinal Alphas already raised, there was no real room for opposition.

One by one, the rest of the sub-alphas followed suit, though some did so with visible reluctance. Unfortunately for them, their alphas had already decided and they had no choice but to fall in line. Not when they were easily “replaceable”.

“Sweet,” Elijah breathed, the satisfaction in his voice barely contained.

It grated on the nerves of some of the alphas who had no choice but to be dragged into this mess.

Then Alpha King Elijah snapped his fingers and Christian stepped in as he continued.

“Still on the matter,” Elijah continued speaking. “our human leader and ally, President Roy, had his team provide us with information on the behavior of the infected, areas in Aster City with the largest infestations, and their migration patterns.”

That was when the room’s attention shifted to the blank screen mounted on the wall facing them. Christian moved toward it and, with a single swipe of his hand, the dark surface blinked to life.

A second later, a detailed map of the city spread across it in sharp, glowing detail.

Immediately, every gaze in the room locked onto it.

Christian swiped again and infection zones glowed in aggressive red, while safe territories pulsed in cool blue.

Some of the alphas sucked in sharp breaths under their noses at the increase of red markers, the glowing infection zones creeping outward like a disease that had no intention of stopping.

“Unfortunately,” Elijah said, folding one arm behind his back as he stared at the screen, “our efforts are not enough. The infection spreads faster than we can cleanse it. For every one infected we kill, three more end up turning.”

Murmurs rose immediately around the table.

“It doesn’t help,” Elijah continued, “that humans often hide an infected out of sentiment, especially when it happens within a family. They wait and hope, lying to themselves until it’s too late.”

Christian swiped again. A once-blue block flashed red and another.

“And then,” Elijah said coldly, “we get a breakout. A larger infestation in what was once considered a safe zone. Which leads to more infections.”

A heavy and uneasy silence fell after that. Everyone was speechless.

Alpha Caspian lifted his hand.

“How are they even able to pinpoint the infected from the unaffected?” he asked, genuine curiosity in his tone.

Christian answered. “Avax Tech. They’ve developed a layered scanning system that combines thermal irregularities, neural activity distortions, and low-frequency bioacoustic mapping. The infected do not regulate heat like the unaffected. Their brain activity is unstable, and their movement patterns emit an abnormal resonance signature that can be tracked over distance.”

He zoomed in on one section, and tiny pulsing dots shifted across the map.

“Meaning,” Elijah finished, “we can detect them before they even arrive if we’re fast enough.”

Caspian gave a slow nod, clearly impressed.

Then Leon frowned, his gaze narrowing at a section of the map.

“What is that?” He pointed to the screen.

Three large clusters of red dots were moving. It was unlike the other random, scattered dots.

Elijah followed his line of sight.

“That,” he said grimly, “is their migration pattern.”

Christian zoomed in as the map shifted and the room went dead silent. A marked point blinked on the screen. Lunaris Academy.

Voices broke out at once.

“What the hell?”

“Why are they headed there?”

“That’s the school—”

Elijah exhaled through his nose, already sounding tired. “There was an attack on the school. A magical mishap occurred.”

Nancy and Irene shared the briefest glance at that sentence but looked away so fast it might never have happened at all.

What brought about this magical mishap? The question was right on the tip of their tongues, but none asked.

Elijah shrugged like this was merely an inconvenience. “It seems the magic at work acted like a beacon. It drew the infected toward the school grounds.”

That only made the room more restless.

“Of course,” Elijah continued smoothly, “our first thought was to dispel the spell. But President Roy and I have agreed it may actually work in our favor.”

Several heads stared at him in open disbelief. Was he kidding them right now?

Elijah sighed with exasperation as if he was dealing with unruly children right now. He explained, “If the infected are all heading in one direction, then it becomes far easier to contain, round up, and eliminate them.”

“But the children are there!” one of the sub-alphas burst out. “Our sons. Our heirs.”

A growl rumbled beneath his words.

Elijah barely blinked.

“Your children are safe within the dome placed over the school.”

“And what if the dome fails?” another challenged immediately.

That was when Elijah’s eyes darkened. The room seemed to chill.

“Then,” he said in a tone so cold it could have cut flesh, “you had better join the fight before they get to your son, wouldn’t you?”