Bruce clenched his fists, jaw tight, the air around him heavy with frustration.
"They killed his lawyer… and the judge," he murmured, voice low, almost a growl.
A surge of anger shook him. "Why am I so powerless? WHYY!" he shouted, slamming his hand against the table. The sound rattled through the room, sharp and final.
The door creaked open.
"Sir… I did as you requested," the butler said, bowing slightly. "But I only managed to get a small amount of blood."
Bruce's eyes narrowed.
"The blood belongs to the guy Ron fought," the butler added.
Bruce exhaled slowly, absorbing the weight of the revelation. "Rocky called me. Told me everything… Good. We need to examine S-72's blood. Immediately."
He strode into the experiment room. There it was—Ron's magnifying glass, lying on the table. Bruce's eyes locked onto it, unblinking. A faint pulse of light flickered inside the glass. For a brief moment, he thought he saw Ron's face staring back at him.
In the hospital, Ron had recovered faster than anyone expected—less than a day. The girl he had saved sat quietly beside him, fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve.
He stared into space, eyes distant, the chaos of the outside world fading into the sterile white walls. For once, the battles, the blood, the conspiracies… none of it mattered here.
"Sir," a soft voice interrupted, making him flinch. It was the female doctor attending the girl. "She'll be okay. No more danger."
Ron blinked, focusing on her. "Good…" His voice was quiet, almost unsure.
The doctor observed him carefully. "May I ask… what is your relationship with her?"
Ron's gaze softened, though only slightly. "She's… nothing to me. Found her alone. Parents gone. Still breathing. If someone is alive… isn't it every person's duty to protect them?" His eyes lingered on her small, fragile figure, unknowing of the dangers that had stalked her.
The doctor tilted her head. "I thought you might be… related."
Ron arched an eyebrow. "Why would you think that?"
"You paid more than her medical bills… and you came back to see her," she said softly.
Ron didn't reply. He looked down, shadows crossing his face.
The doctor's voice wavered, touched by memory. "I… I had a sister her age. She died years ago… before I could say goodbye."
Ron's gaze lifted slightly. "I'm sorry… for your loss."
A quiet pause stretched between them. Then the doctor spoke again, with a hint of pride. "I'm Carter's sister. I've… heard a lot about you."
Ron's eyes widened in surprise. The weight of names, histories, and battles pressed down on him—but this was different. Here, the battles were quiet, human, personal.
"Carter…" Ron whispered, almost to himself. "I hope his name… I hope it's cleared someday."
He glanced at the girl. A spark of resolve ignited in his eyes. Protecting her wasn't just a duty—it was a reminder of everything he'd fought for, and everything he still could.
He didn't notice the shadow moving past the window. Something—or someone—was watching.
Elsewhere, in Foster's darkened chamber, nine figures sat around a massive table. The conference had ended, but the tension lingered, thick as smoke.
At the head of the table, a man remained still. His eyes flickered green for a fraction of a second before returning to brown. He stared at the desk, where a photograph of DA rested.
"DA… who are you?" he muttered. "No records. No background. No identity. Even the DA… doesn't exist. Where… did you come from?" His voice dropped to a whisper. "Where are you now?"
The room seemed empty. Then—a hand rested on his shoulder.
"You're late," said the green-eyed man, calm but dangerous.
"Apologies," came the reply, smooth, measured. "I was… admiring the city."
"Do you have information on DA?" the man demanded.
The answer was precise. "All I know… he's Black Heart's equal. Same teacher. Older than your entire bloodline combined."
"What about Thomas… and the Watcher?"
"Wulkranoth, or Thomas, chose to attack the Watcher. But Ron vanished. The Beyonders… they can't interfere. Something powerful is anchored in Hero Town. For now, the world remains stable. What's your move?"
The green-eyed man's lips curved into a faint, dangerous smile. "I'll retreat into the shadows for a while. Experiment more on Ron's blood… perfect my powers."
The other voice lingered, almost a murmur. "Ron… he always reminds me of him."
"Of who?"
"The one responsible for 'The Great Massacre'."
The green-eyed man's brow furrowed. "What?"
"No… nothing. But the game has only just begun." The reply came.
Then Silence, Green eyed man turned to look but The guy had vanished.