"Are you ready to go? We'll be late, woman!" Larry Summers shouted from the bottom of the stairs.

There was a moment of silence, in which James almost physically felt his grandmother roll her eyes before she responded, "I'll be ready when I'm ready! All you are doing is making me take longer!"

James chuckled at his grandparents' banter. He'd miss them once he moved out.

He stood before a full-length mirror, adjusting the collar of his dark suit. The fabric was smooth under his fingers and felt unfamiliar compared to his usual attire. Today, however, was about ceremony and recognition, not battle.

Not that I'd wear my battlesuit again. I've long since outgrown it. Especially with all the levels I earned using the leftover power from the ritual.

His grandfather, Larry, paced impatiently but with a gleam of pride in his eyes each time he glanced at James. He was dressed sharply in a navy blue suit, the tie perfectly knotted, and his war veteran medals from his time in service were polished and prominently displayed.

Rosa finally descended the stairs, looking resplendent in a deep green dress that complimented her silver hair, now styled elegantly for the occasion. "There, see? Worth the wait," she declared, smoothing down her dress with a satisfied smile.

James couldn't help but agree as he smiled warmly at her. "You look stunning, Grandma."

"Thank you, darling. Now, let's not keep the President waiting, eh?" she replied with a wink, linking her arm with Larry's. The man rolled his eyes but managed to keep his mouth shut.

Together, they stepped outside to find a sleek government car waiting, the driver standing by the open door, dressed in a professional black suit. The late morning sun glinted off the polished black surface of the car, and James felt a moment of surreal realization at how far he had come from the young boy who dreamt of being a hero in these streets.

The drive to the HQ was filled with Rosa's excited chatter. "And to think, the President himself will be honoring you with a medal of honor, James. Our boy has grown up, Larry."

The old man grunted in agreement, though James knew him well enough to realize he was trying hard to remain composed. He was just as, if not more, proud.

"I just wish you could stay with us a while longer," Rosa murmured before waving her hand at the look she got from her husband. "But I understand; you deserve to have your spaces now that you've grown up."

As the car approached the Association Headquarters, the first thing that struck James was the stark contrast between the memory of last month's chaos and the present scene of orderly celebration. The building stood pristine and unblemished, its damage from the battle expertly repaired, betraying no signs of the desperate struggles it had housed. A red carpet had been rolled out over the entrance, flanked by banners and flags fluttering in the gentle breeze—a far cry from the barricades and destruction that had recently dominated the area.

"They've done quite the job cleaning up," James muttered under his breath, a mix of admiration and disbelief in his tone.

"If there is one thing that can be said about the Apocalypse, it made us good at rebuilding. What doesn't kill us makes us stronger." Larry replied with a hint of a smile.

As they alighted from the car, they were greeted by officials who quickly ushered them towards the grand entrance. The lobby of the building was bustling with activity; officials, Awakeners, and guests mingled in a buzz of anticipation and solemn remembrance. Despite the festive setup, the air was tinged with a gravity befitting the occasion - this was not just a celebration but also a memorial for those who had lost their lives fighting the chimeras.

James and his grandparents were briefly greeted by several familiar faces, including some of James's teammates who had arrived earlier. However, the reunion was short-lived as an usher approached to guide them to their respective places for the ceremony. James was led towards the podium where the honorees would be seated while Larry and Rosa were taken to the VIP section reserved for family members.

As the ceremony began, the room hushed to a respectful silence. The President of the United States, flanked by the Chief Director, stepped onto the stage amid a round of polite applause. One by one, the heroes of the recent conflict were called forward.

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Team 0 was among the first to be honored. James, along with Maria, Ezekiel, Lauren, and Daniel, walked up to the podium. Each received a medal of honor, the heavy metal cool against their necks. "Great job, Mr. Summers. I'll be watching your career with interest." President McArthur said as he shook James' hand. His eyes were intense and interested.

The applause that followed Team 0 as they left the stage was warm and genuine. Young stars like them were the bread and butter of any PR campaign, and to counteract the damage to the reputation the AA had suffered with the attack, they had been elevated as heroes who had singlehandedly prevented the disaster. Not that the public knew just how closely they had come to annihilation.

Madam Helper and Miss Walker were next, receiving accolades for their extraordinary efforts in defending the city. Miss Walker accepted her medal with a nod, her eyes scanning the crowd with an unreadable expression. She had been melancholy ever since the fight.

A somber mood descended as the ceremony took a moment to honor Marcus Bethany posthumously. The Director, recovering from injuries but present in a wheelchair, accepted the medal on his behalf, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. A moment of silence was observed.

James grappled with the guilt he felt over the man's death. He knew he couldn't have done more than what he already had. For all the power he had held at that time, none of it could have resurrected a dead man. Marcus Bethany had died to keep the chimera Hephaestus occupied as long as possible, and he had been successful. To be anything but proud of the old man would be an insult.

Finally, the President addressed the gathering. "Today, we stand not only to celebrate the bravery and sacrifice of these fine individuals but also to remember those we have lost. This medal of honor signifies not just victory but the enduring spirit of humanity to prevail against all odds. Be it our young-" and here he gestured to Team 0 "or our old, everyone has a role to play. Through hard work and sacrifice, we'll build a better future."

As the ceremony concluded with the President's stirring speech, the crowd rose in a standing ovation, the applause echoing through the grand hall of the AA Headquarters.

James, his chest heavy with the medal and his heart lighter than it had been in weeks, followed as the crowd dispersed toward the reception area. There, refreshments and further congratulations awaited, but first, a more private meeting was scheduled with the President, the Chief Director, the local Director, and Miss Walker.

The small group was ushered into a well-appointed conference room on the upper floor of the headquarters. The room offered a panoramic view of the city skyline, now peaceful and seemingly untouched by the recent chaos. The priority had been rebuilding the exterior and stabilizing the nearby buildings, which meant that the highest floors were still a mess, but no one complained.

The President was the first to speak. "Thank you, everyone, for your incredible efforts. The nation owes you a debt of gratitude that can never truly be repaid." He nodded to each in turn, making eye contact.

"Our latest estimates show that the power contained in the ritual was enough to level much of the city. We escaped a desperate situation with only a black eye, which is more than anyone could ask for." Director Bisque was still in a wheelchair, which went to show just how deeply she had been hurt. Being an A-ranker, she was extraordinarily resilient and had access to the best healers, thanks to her position. Still, James had been reassured she'd be back on her feet soon enough.

Miss Walker remained silent, staring out of the window. She felt Mr. Bethany's loss much more deeply than anyone else, and her power afforded her enough leeway to avoid speaking even to the President.

"Mr. Summers," The Chief Director called, and James turned to the grizzled woman. With the incredible increase in power he had earned with his clean-up efforts, James had shot ahead of his teammates in levels, and it seemed that growth hadn't gone unnoticed.

"I might be known as a brash warrior," she said wryly, "But I can still recognize someone on the cusp of B-rank. When did you intend to reveal your growth?"

James was treated to several surprised looks. The President seemed the least shocked, which was unsurprising given that he likely had been briefed about them before the meeting. Miss Walker shook herself out of her funk to offer him a proud smile, but she didn't add anything else.

Director Bisque sputtered, surprised. "B-rank? He hasn't even gotten the D-rank qualifications yet!"

"It's been an interesting few months," James replied to the questioning gazes. He hadn't spoken to anyone about his meeting with the System and didn't intend to. But the growth that had followed it was much harder to hide. He could have approximated it by holding a good portion of his mana inside the ether or even in his soul now that it was available, but he would have gotten caught sooner or later. That didn't mean he had to explain everything.

"Indeed, it has been," the Chief Director replied, her tone a mix of curiosity and respect. "Your quick ascension is nearly unprecedented but well-deserved given the circumstances."

President McArthur nodded thoughtfully. "It's always good to have more powerhouses in the fight. The road ahead to clear the nation of dungeons is still long, and things have also begun to stir in Mexico. We need every capable hand on deck."

Before further discussions could develop, Miss Walker stood abruptly, her chair scraping softly against the floor. "If you'll excuse us, I need to speak to James," she said, her voice carrying a soft but undeniable authority.

The room fell silent, all eyes on her. The Chief Director raised an eyebrow but nodded, acknowledging Miss Walker's prerogative in matters involving her protégés.

"Very well, Leila," President McArthur agreed, giving James an encouraging look. "We can continue our discussion later. We'll meet again soon enough if I'm not wrong. James, congratulations once again."

"Thank you, sir," James murmured, following his teacher out of the room.

Before James could react, he was grabbed by a nearby shadow and teleported away.

Within a blink, he found himself on the rooftop, still scarred and burned out from the battle, starkly contrasting to the refurbished facade below. The damage here was palpable, with charred marks and debris scattered across the area, a reminder of how fierce the fighting had been.

Miss Walker stopped at the edge, looking over the city as the sun reached its zenith.

"James," she began, turning to face him with a severe expression, "now that you're on the cusp of B-rank, it's time for you to understand more about your role and the larger fight we're all engaged in." James listened intently, his curiosity burning.

"You've shown that you'll rise to them no matter the circumstances. That you are not afraid of doing what needs to be done." She continued, and James tilted his head, trying to understand where she was going. "That is the exact set of skills we need. That humanity needs."

James felt his eyes widen as he sensed a crack in the air open to the side. It was a deep black, seemingly swallowing all light around it.

"It's time you meet your mother."