"Finally, we managed to arrive,"
Chloe said, her voice strained as the helicopter dipped toward the landing pad of the Pentagram...the last stronghold of global authority.
The rotors howled above, kicking dust across the ground as the helicopter descended. Her arms tightened around the limp, cold body resting against her chest.
Jessica.
The once indomitable warrior now lay still, her skin pale, her armor bloodstained and cracked, her chest unmoving. Chloe's boots hit the tarmac even before the landing skids touched down.
She sprinted, wind whipping past her face, a procession of elite escorts falling in behind her like shadows.
Every step pounded with urgency.
Fear.
Regret.
A higher-ranking soldier intercepted her near the reinforced gate. His face was hardened by battle, but his voice was calm, respectful.
"The President has ordered that you head straight to Central Command,"
he said.
"I'll take care of the body. We'll deliver her to Jonathan immediately."
Chloe hesitated only a second, looking down at Jessica's lifeless face—still serene, even in death.
She nodded.
"Make sure he knows—there might still be a chance."
The soldier saluted.
"He'll know."
Chloe handed her over and turned, brushing away the sting in her eyes as she broke into a brisk march toward the interior of the compound.
The escorts stayed close as they passed through layer after layer of security: biometric scanners, energy field checkpoints, retina verification, blood-keyed gates.
The Pentagram wasn't just a base...it was a vault built to house the minds and powers of the most dangerous era in human history.
And yet…
It was already too late.
The final gate hissed open.
Inside sat the Central Council...a horseshoe-shaped chamber made of obsidian alloy and pulsating core-glass.
Around the table were the heads of global governance. A dozen powerful figures, dressed in black, silver, and ceremonial crimson. They whispered among themselves, nervous and tense.
At the center sat the President.
Kalren Vos.
A man with nothing remarkable about him. Brown eyes. Brown hair. Slender-framed glasses. Medium height, medium build. The kind of man you'd forget in a crowd. A ghost in plain sight.
And yet… this was the most powerful man on Earth.
Chloe stepped forward and saluted sharply.
"Mr. President."
He looked up, voice as dull and dry as gravel.
"Sit. Tell us what happened."
But before Chloe could speak, a voice...not hers...rang out from the shadows of the chamber.
"I can tell you about that."
The voice was calm. Cold. Not loud, yet it cut through the air like a blade made of silence.
The room froze.
Conversations died mid-breath. Fingers hovered above holopads. Eyes snapped toward the source.
And standing near the sealed entrance to the chamber...was a man who hadn't been there a second ago.
He had simply appeared.
No footsteps. No door opening. No flicker of a teleport signature. No energy spike. Just... presence.
As if reality itself had agreed to place him there.
Me.
I stood tall and composed. My eyes...void of emotions, unfathomable...swept over the room with chilling ease.
My expression was unreadable, not blank, but sculpted into stillness. It was like looking at a statue that could move at any moment...and you hoped it wouldn't.
Around me, the ambient light seemed to bend inward, ever so slightly. The polished floor beneath my shoes warped like a reflection on disturbed water. The temperature dropped. The laws of normalcy retreated.
Panic rippled across the chamber like a silent wave.
Guards reached for their weapons. Generals whispered orders. Red holographic warnings blinked across the floating displays.
Security Protocol Omega.
Large Mana Source Detected.
Unknown Signature.
No one moved.
A general rose to his feet, fury battling fear in his voice.
"How did you get in here?! We have triple-tiered surveillance! Mana scanners! Psychic tripwires, magic seals...this chamber is impenetrable!"
I tilted my head just slightly, lips curling into a faint, unsettling smile.
"If I want to be here…"
I said, voice smooth as glass,
"then it will happen."
I didn't shout it. I didn't need to.
I spoke it the way one speaks of sunrise, of gravity, of breathing. As if it were not a threat, not even a boast...just truth. A truth so old that reality bent around it like iron drawn to a magnetic god.
A murmur spread through the council. Some rose to their feet. Others shrank in their chairs.
Chloe, standing near the table, tensed...eyes darting between me and the man at the center of the room.
The President.
Kalren Vos didn't blink.
He simply adjusted his glasses, the light glinting off the lens.
"What do you want?"
My eyes darkened. A flicker of something sharp and buried twisted beneath the otherwise emotionless stare.
Hatred.
Even though there is no ache in my heart in my mind I should get revenge, that is the rules.
My rules.
"I wanted to meet you,"
I said, each word heavy with poison wrapped in calm.
"After everything you did to me."
Kalren didn't flinch.
"It was necessary.",
He said
I let out a slow, cold breath. Then took one step forward.
"Then this… is necessary too."
And then it hit.
Not a sound.
Not a blast.
But a pressure.
Like gravity itself thickened around them. The air felt heavier, denser...as if time had slowed. Like they were underwater, submerged in something unseen but deeply wrong.
My pupils contracted, then dilated again. My breathing slowed.I tried to focus but...
I wish the President would just di.e…
But the thought snagged. It jammed, like a command issued into a broken machine.
Wait... what?
I tried again, reaching deeper, commanding my will to form the image, the intent, the result.
A vision of death.
A strike.
A fracture.
A spark of hatred.
But… nothing came.
It was like grasping at smoke in a windstorm.
Why… can't I… think of killing him?
I clenched my teeth. Muscles tensed.
"What… did you do to me?" .
The President's gaze was calm. Patient. Like a teacher indulging a wayward child.
"I did nothing,"
he said quietly.
"You never wanted to hurt me."
My eyes blinked, momentarily dazed. "What?"
"You came here,"
Kalren continued,
"because deep down, you wanted to serve me. Isn't that right?"
The words sounded ridiculous as if spoke by a senile old man but it floated toward me, twisting softly, wrapping themselves around my mind like velvet cords.
The moment they reached me...my body moved.
I dropped to one knee.
Not out of pain. Not of shame.
It felt… natural. Like breathing. Like gravity. Like truth.
My mind reeled in horror.
No...
This isn't me.
This isn't right.
Am I already under control?
I tried to claw back through my memory, panicking.
Was it the dream? No...I resisted in the dream.
Was it when I fought the clones?
When I touched Jessica's body?
Or is it now?
Just from looking at him?
When did I lose myself?
I raised my head slowly, voice breaking like a cracked mirror.
"Why let me kill all those clones…?"
The President's voice softened.
"I had to. If I stopped you then, you might've realized too soon."
The words slid into place.
And suddenly...everything clicked.
The weight of realization crushed me.
It was all according to his plan.
My rage. My hatred. My vengeance. My sense of self.
He was there all along.
Guiding.
Molding.
Controlling.
My fists trembled , clenched tightly from sheer anger or what emotions I suppose feel , my heart didn't ache but my body reacted.
I could no longer even think of harming the President.
Worse still...I didn't want to.
I wanted to serve.
To follow.
To kneel deeper.
To be useful.
A hollow chuckle escaped my throat.
Then it grew.
And grew.
Until it became laughter...shaky at first, then hysterical, wild, almost desperate.
"HAHAHAHAHA…!"
It echoed through the chamber like a mad hymn in a ruined church.
The council recoiled.
Chloe took a step back, her eyes wide with terror.
Tears streamed down my cheeks...not from sorrow, but from sheer absurdity.
"I've been played,"
I whispered through clenched teeth.
"Played like a violin in the hands of a god."
My breath slowed.
But through my eyes...they sharpened.
"There's still one thing I can do."
I closed my eyes.
And wished.
I wish I had a clone. A separate self. Independent. Free. With its own thoughts, its own desires. Not to rebel…
But to serve him better.
The President's expression twitched.
He had heard the thought.
He stepped forward.
"Don't..."
Too late.
My grin widened.
And my clone whispered one final wish.
I wish… to explode.
The room detonated.
But it wasn't like a bomb. Not like fire or thunder.
It was as if reality itself unraveled.
The air folded in upon itself, rippling like heatwaves through water, warping sound and sight. Colors twisted...red became violet, shadows bled into light, the dimensions of the room shuddered like a living organism writhing in agony. The very concept of "space" groaned, buckled, and tore.
A humming vibration filled the chamber...so low it wasn't heard, but felt in bone and blood. Like the planet itself had begun to weep.
Then...
Fire.
Not ordinary fire. Not fueled by oxygen or flame, but something older—primordial, liquid, violent. It poured from the center of the chamber in a roaring column, a sunbeam of annihilation, radiating with molten gold and searing white.
The fire pulsed like a heartbeat, consuming everything it touched.
The polished black alloy of the council floor cracked down the middle like a shattered mirror.
The walls, reinforced with hundreds of layers of titanium weave and psychic dampeners, crumbled like parchment.
Support beams twisted and screamed as gravity inverted, sending shards of debris rising and then slamming back down.
Screams rang out.
But not for long.
The council members...those proud architects of the modern world...combusted where they sat.
Their skin flayed open in an instant, their blood boiling inside their bodies before their eyes could even widen in realization.
Their souls...yes, even their souls...writhed in the open air, dragged screaming into the rift of whatever power I had unleashed.
The soldiers at the doors turned to ash mid-motion, their armor disintegrating with a hiss of glowing dust. Some tried to raise their weapons, but their limbs melted, fingers dissolving like wax near a furnace.
The security drones fried in the air, sparks trailing like dying stars.
And in the center...untouched by flame, unscathed by destruction...I stood.
Back straight. Arms at my sides. The coat fluttering gently in the hellwind, not burning.
My expression calm.
Serene.
Like this was how things were always meant to be.
Beside me, born of the implosion and flame, emerged another form...a second me.
My clone.
Eyes glowing with a cold gold hue. His body formed of stardust and flesh, like a reflection come to life. No leash on his thoughts. No chains on his will.
He was free.
The original me turned my head towards him.
Our gazes met...mirror to mirror.
"We should combine again,"
I said softly, as if discussing the weather.
The clone gave a faint smirk.
"Yeah. We should."
We extended their hands...two realities converging, two minds intertwining.
The moment our fingertips touched, our bodies shimmered, folded together with a lightless surge.
Flesh and soul spiraled inward, twisting into a single entity. Our fusion left no wound, no glow, only a stillness.
Then...
The alarms screamed.
A piercing mechanical howl shattered the silence.
[ALERT: Core breach detected.]
[Unknown large mana source expanding from Council Chamber.]
[Evacuation required. All staff to lockdown positions.]
Steel doors across the facility slammed shut one by one in a deafening chain reaction. Red lights bathed the halls.
Automatic turrets unfolded from the ceilings, twitching and searching—but found no enemy to target.
In the eye of the storm, I stood alone.
Surrounded by smoldering ruin, the remnants of world leadership reduced to glowing bone fragments and piles of soot.
The walls still hissed as they cooled. Sparks showered from the shattered command monitors, their wiring bleeding like veins torn open.
Flames danced gently around me...not wild, not chaotic...but like loyal dogs circling their master.
Smoke curled toward the broken ceiling in long, slow spirals, framing me in a halo of darkness.
I raised my gaze.
The President's throne...a sleek obsidian command chair embedded into the center of the chamber...sat empty, its occupant erased.
But I didn't look surprised.
Only satisfied.
With a stepped forward once, shoes echoing in the silence.
And then I smiled.
That quiet, knowing, terrifying smile.
The kind that said: this was never your story...it was always mine.
I had knelt before the throne.
Now…
I was ready to claim it