"I was born not long after the war."
Arnik's voice did not tremble, but there was weight in it, the kind that only comes from memories that have never truly settled.
"Mars was still rebuilding when I came into this world. Entire sectors stood half-restored, half-scarred. Towers had been reconstructed, but if you looked closely you could still see where metal had been fused back together. The streets were active again. Commerce returned. People smiled. But no one had forgotten what had burned."
He inhaled slowly before continuing.
"My father had already earned his name by then. During the final collapse of the western defense grid, when evacuation fleets were scrambling and command lines were failing, he held the sector long enough for thousands to escape. That's what I was told growing up. That's what the broadcasts replayed every year."
His jaw shifted slightly.
"They gave him a title after that. Baron of Earth. Not because he ruled it… but because he saved it."
A quiet pause followed.
"To the public, he was iron. Unshakable. A hero."
His voice lowered.
"To me… he was just my father."
There was no smile.
"My mother was different."
Something softened in his expression, though it did not last long.
"She was the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. Violet eyes — not dark, not pale, just clear. When she looked at you, it felt like she wasn't judging you or measuring you. She just saw you. Completely."
He blinked once.
"Her hair caught the light in a way I still can't fully describe. It shimmered, but not in a dramatic way. It just reflected the sun differently. I used to sit near her in the mornings just to watch it when the light came through the terrace windows."
In the early hours of the day, she would walk the garden overlooking the rebuilt skyline of Mars. The air still carried the faint scent of metal from distant refineries, but the sky was clear more often than not. Engineers had restored what they could.
"Arnik, slow down," she would call when he ran ahead of her along the stone path.
"I'm not slow!" he would shout back, laughing as he nearly lost his balance.
She would kneel, arms opening without hesitation, violet eyes warm.
"You don't have to prove you're fast. I already know."
Those words stayed with him longer than he understood at the time.
Inside the estate courtyard, his father would sometimes join them. Andrew would remove his jacket, roll his sleeves back, and correct Arnik's stance with careful precision, adjusting his shoulders, repositioning his feet.
"Balance," Andrew would say firmly. "Power without control is wasted."
Arnik would nod seriously, repeating the movement until it matched his father's exactly.
Back then, Andrew's voice carried patience.
Back then, he still looked at his son when he spoke.
Arnik believed in him completely.
He believed in both of them.
"But then my mom got sick."
The words did not rise in volume, but something underneath them hardened.
"It wasn't sudden. She grew tired more often. She would pause in the middle of conversations. Doctors began visiting the house more frequently. At first, it didn't feel serious."
The estate changed slowly.
Decorative pieces were replaced by medical equipment. Portable monitors were set up beside her bed. The hallways grew quieter. Staff moved carefully, as though sound itself had weight.
"At first, I didn't understand it," Arnik continued. "Adults kept saying it was temporary. Manageable. Something they were monitoring."
He exhaled slowly through his nose.
"It wasn't."
His father changed first.
Andrew began spending longer hours inside his study. The walls filled with medical scans and treatment projections pulled from Mars's most advanced facilities. Research logs streamed constantly across the displays.
"He told me he would fix it," Arnik said. "He said he had access to connections no one else did. That he wouldn't let her go like this."
His jaw tightened slightly.
"He immersed himself in his work."
A pause.
"Nonstop."
The lights in the study never turned off. Assistants entered and exited quietly at all hours. Files accumulated in neat stacks. Data updated constantly.
Andrew stopped coming to the garden.
Stopped correcting Arnik's stance.
Stopped sitting at the main table during meals.
"Nonstop."
Meanwhile—
She grew thinner.
Her steps slowed. The strength in her violet eyes dimmed slightly, though the warmth remained whenever Arnik entered the room.
She would still smile.
Still lift her hand so he could hold it.
"How was training?" she would ask, even when her voice had grown fragile.
He would answer with enthusiasm, describing drills and progress, pretending not to notice when she winced shifting in bed.
He told himself his father would fix it.
He had to.
The Baron of Earth did not fail.
Heroes did not lose.
That was what Arnik believed.
Until the day he walked into her room and realized something in the air had changed.
He could not explain it.
But he felt it.
And in that moment—
Something had begun to break.The night before she died, the house felt heavier than usual, as though the walls themselves understood what was coming before he did. The staff moved carefully, speaking in lowered voices, avoiding eye contact, and the faint hum of the medical equipment in her room seemed louder simply because nothing else dared to make noise. Arnik stood outside her door for longer than he meant to, his hand hovering near the handle while something inside his chest told him he wasn't ready to go in. Eventually, he pushed the door open.
The lights were dim, casting soft shadows across the room. The monitors beside her bed displayed thin green lines that rose and fell in slow, uneven rhythm. She looked smaller than she had even that morning, her frame nearly swallowed by the sheets, but when her violet eyes turned toward him, they still held that familiar warmth.
"Arnik… my son."
Her voice was faint, but she was smiling.
He moved to her bedside and pulled the chair closer without a word, sitting down carefully, as though even the sound of the chair scraping the floor might disturb something fragile.
"I'm here," he said, trying to keep his voice steady.
She lifted her hand slowly. It trembled halfway up, and he reached forward instinctively, guiding it the rest of the way to his cheek. Her palm rested there, thin and warm, though weaker than he had ever felt it.
"There will come a day… a day you will have to make a choice," she said, each word taking effort.
"A choice?" he asked quietly, his brows pulling together.
"To follow the path of the righteous… to follow the Great Spirit… or to follow darkness… and end up alone."
His throat tightened immediately, and he shook his head without thinking. "Mom, why are you saying that? You're going to get better. Dad said he's close. He said he won't stop until he finds something."
Her eyes drifted slightly, not unfocused, but distant, as though she were seeing something beyond the room.
"I can see you," she whispered. "You're so big… and strong…"
Tears began to gather in his eyes despite himself. "I'm not big. I'm right here."
Her fingers pressed weakly into his cheek, and for a moment he thought she might say something more, but instead her voice softened further.
"Never stray, Arnik… my son."
Her hand tried to lift again, but it did not rise far. It trembled once, then fell back against the blanket.
The monitor behind her flattened into a single, unbroken tone.
For several seconds, Arnik did not move. He stared at her face, waiting for her chest to rise, waiting for the tone to stop, waiting for something to correct itself. When nothing changed, he leaned forward.
"Mom?"He shook her shoulder gently, then harder.
"Mom."
The tone from the monitor did not change.
The door behind him burst open.
Medical staff rushed in first, hands moving quickly, voices overlapping in controlled urgency as they surrounded the bed. Someone tried to guide Arnik backward, but he resisted, his fingers still clutching the sheets near her arm.
Then Andrew came in.
He moved past the staff without hesitation, pushing through them with a force that made even the nurses step aside. His eyes locked onto the monitor, then onto her face, and for the briefest moment something cracked across his expression before he forced it down.
"What happened?" his voice demanded, sharp and controlled.
One of the doctors answered quickly, already performing motions that were more procedural than hopeful.
"We lost her pulse— we're attempting—"
Andrew stepped closer to the bed, one hand gripping the metal rail so tightly his knuckles whitened. He watched as they worked, but even he could see it. The stillness. The absence.
Arnik stood there, shaking, staring at his mother's face while the room filled with movement.
"She was just talking to me," Arnik said, his voice small and breaking. "She was just— she said I'd have to choose—"
No one answered him.
The doctor stopped first.
The others followed.
The machine continued its flat, unbroken sound.
Andrew's jaw tightened.
"Enough," he said quietly.
The staff stepped back.
Someone reached for Arnik's shoulder again, trying to move him away from the bed.
That was when the heat began.
At first it was subtle. A shift in the air. A rising warmth that made one of the nurses frown in confusion.
Then the lights flickered.
Arnik's breathing grew uneven. His chest heaved as tears ran freely down his face.
"She can't be—" His voice collapsed into a sob. "She can't—"
Electricity snapped between his fingers.
Andrew noticed immediately.
"Arnik."
The sparks grew louder.
Arnik didn't respond.
The heat surged outward violently, blue flame erupting from his arms in a sudden burst that engulfed the bed before anyone could react. The sheets ignited instantly. The curtain nearest the window caught fire within seconds.
Staff screamed and stumbled backward.
"Get out!" someone shouted.
The ceiling lights exploded in a shower of sparks as lightning tore across the room, shattering monitors and splitting panels from the walls.
Andrew lunged forward through the rising smoke, grabbing Arnik by the shoulders.
"Look at me!" he shouted, though his voice was nearly drowned out by the roar of fire.
Blue flames climbed the walls, devouring everything they touched. The bed frame collapsed inward under the heat. The fire did not behave normally. It spread too fast. It moved outward from Arnik in waves, each surge matching the panic ripping through him.
His mother's body was consumed within moments.
Andrew saw it.
And understood.
This was not a single mutation.
Electricity cracked violently down the corridor beyond the room as another wave burst outward, igniting the hallway and forcing the remaining staff to flee.
The heat rolling off Arnik was too immense, too unstable. Blue fire surged outward in uneven bursts, and arcs of electricity snapped violently across the shattered floor, striking walls and debris with sharp cracks that echoed through the collapsing wing of the manor. Even seasoned guards hesitated at the edge of the destruction.
Andrew didn't.
But even he had to stop several meters away, one arm raised to shield his face from the intensity.
This wasn't a flare.
It wasn't accidental ignition.
It was a release.
"Everyone out!" Andrew's voice cut through the chaos, clear and commanding. "Evacuate the manor! Clear the east wing immediately!"
Staff scrambled. Guards rushed through smoke-filled corridors, forcing doors open, guiding servants and medical personnel toward the exits. Andrew moved with them, despite the flames licking up the walls and the ceiling beams beginning to give way.
He made sure no one remained inside.
He personally checked the adjoining corridors, kicking open doors, pulling two stunned nurses toward the stairwell before the structure above them collapsed in a cascade of sparks.
Within minutes, the manor was cleared.
No one was left inside.
Andrew made certain of it.
When he turned back, the east wing was nearly gone.
Rain began to fall harder, striking the burning debris in steady sheets. Steam rose as blue fire gradually weakened under the downpour.
Arnik stood alone in the wreckage.
The flames were shrinking now, folding inward toward him before finally fading entirely. Electricity crackled faintly around his hands, then diminished into thin, residual sparks.
Everything around him was ash.
Blackened beams.
Collapsed stone.
Fragments of what had once been his home.
Andrew stepped forward slowly, each step deliberate despite the pain spreading through his burned arms and shoulders. His uniform was charred. Fabric had fused to blistered skin. Parts of his back had taken the worst of it when he forced himself between the flames and his son.
He did not show it.
He reached Arnik and placed a burned hand on his shoulder.
"Son."
Arnik did not respond.
"What happened here today," Andrew said quietly, "will die alongside your mother."
Rain continued to fall.
Two hours later—
The manor was gone.
The fire had burned itself out, leaving nothing but blackened debris and twisted frames where rooms once stood. Rain fell lightly now, tapping against what remained of the structure as smoke drifted slowly into the night air.
Arnik stood there.
"No one will speak of it. No one will know."
Arnik's eyes were still bright blue.
"From this moment on," Andrew continued, forcing his voice steady, "you will never use that power. Never."
Arnik stared at the ruins.
It was all ashes.
"Did I…" His voice trembled. "Did I kill them?"
Andrew answered immediately.
"No. Nobody died. I made sure of it."
Arnik swallowed hard.
"D-dad… what is this? Why… why did this happen?"
Andrew studied him in silence.
"Arnik," he said finally, his voice lower now, more urgent than before, "promise me you will never show this power to anyone."
Arnik didn't answer.
Andrew grabbed his face suddenly, forcing him to look directly at him despite the pain in his burned hands.
"Promise me."
Rain ran down both of them.
"PROMISE ME."
Arnik flinched.
"I promise."
Andrew held his gaze for a moment longer.
Then he released him and stood.
"Good."The next morning—
Arnik woke to the sound of tires against wet pavement.
The sky outside the window was gray, washed clean from the night before. For several seconds he didn't remember where he was. The seat beneath him was unfamiliar. The air smelled different. The manor was gone.
He pushed himself upright in the back seat of a long black vehicle, confusion settling slowly over him.
An old man sat behind the wheel.
His hair was white, his posture straight despite his age. He did not look back when Arnik moved.
"Where are we going?" Arnik asked, his voice still raw from smoke and crying.
The man waited a moment before answering.
"You have been placed under my care."
The words were calm. Practiced.
"Placed?" Arnik repeated.
"Your father made arrangements."
Arnik stared at the back of the man's head.
"When is he coming?"
There was a pause.
"He will not be."
Silence filled the car.
Arnik turned toward the window, watching the landscape move past. He did not fully understand what had happened yet. He only knew that the manor was gone, his mother was gone, and his father was not sitting beside him.
Days later, the broadcast aired.
He saw it on a small monitor inside the old man's home.
"Tragic accident claims the life of Arnik Handerfall. The young son of Baron Andrew Handerfall was reportedly consumed in the flames that destroyed the eastern wing of the Handerfall estate. No survivors were found inside the affected area."
His picture appeared beneath the headline.
Declared dead.
Arnik stared at the screen long after the segment ended.
He was alive.
He looked down at his hands.
The memory of the flames came back instantly.
I hated my dad.
The thought formed slowly, then hardened.
I hated him.
He barely visited Mom when she was sick. When he did, it was only for minutes at a time before returning to his study. He said he was working on a cure. He said he wouldn't stop.
But he wasn't there when she needed him.
And after everything burned—
He sent me away.
No goodbye. No explanation. He… Just erased me.
The old man rarely spoke unless necessary. The house was small and isolated, far from the major cities of Mars. It was surrounded by wilderness and quiet land.
As Arnik grew older, the power did not fade.
It became harder to contain.
The more emotion he buried, the more it pushed back. When anger built in his chest, sparks followed. When grief resurfaced, heat rose beneath his skin.
The old man noticed.
"You must learn control," he said once, watching from a distance as blue flame flickered briefly across Arnik's palm.
Control.
That word became routine.
The wilderness became his training ground.
There were no buildings to destroy. No civilians to endanger. Only rock, dirt, and open sky.
He spent hours shaping the fire, forcing it to shrink and expand at will. He practiced holding the electricity in place without letting it lash outward. He learned how the two forces moved differently—how the lightning was sharp and immediate, while the blue flame consumed steadily if left unchecked.
Two mutations.
Both powerful.
Both unstable.
He trained until exhaustion forced him to stop.
And somewhere inside him, something else grew.
One day.
One day I'll show him.
I'll show him what he threw away.
I'll show him the pain he left me with.
But as the years passed, the anger began to change shape.
It did not disappear.
It simply became quieter.
Now…
Now I don't know what to think.
He told me never to use it.
He erased me from the world to protect something.
Or someone.
Or maybe to protect me.
I don't know anymore.
All I know is—
That the day my mother died, something awakened inside me.
And my father knew exactly what it was.
The weight of the memory lingered in the silence that followed. No one moved.
Kai's throat felt tight. "…We didn't know," he said quietly.
Arnik didn't look at him. "No one was supposed to."
Aika wiped her eyes with the back of her sleeve, still trembling. Rose stayed silent, her gaze fixed on Arnik, unreadable.
The air felt heavier now, like the room itself had heard every word.
He didn't just send me away… he erased me.
Then— HSSSSSSK. The med bay doors opened.
Andrew Handerfall stepped inside. The weight of his presence dropped like iron.
He glanced around the room. "So… you all survived."
The room froze. Arnik stood stiff. Like a marionette held by wire-thin rage.
Andrew's gaze flicked toward him. "If you've got something to say—say it."
Arnik stepped forward. Fury burned in his eyes.
"Yeah," he spat. "What the hell happened?! Our Sovereign—he was a demon."
Andrew nodded. "Correct. There's much to explain. Come with me."
"NO!" Arnik barked. "Why me?! Why am I important?! Why did you hide me?! Why did you throw me away?!"
Andrew's voice didn't rise. "Because if Lionel knew what you were… he'd have killed you long ago."
Arnik trembled. His voice dropped. "Then tell me…" He took a step forward.
"Where is Markus?"
Andrew's eye twitched. He turned toward the terminal. Tapped a few commands.
The screen blinked. And there—lit by pale, sterile light—was Markus.
Strapped to a medical slab. Limbs bound tight. Skin torn and bruised. Blood drying across his face. His body spasmed violently.
And his eyes—those blazing crimson eyes—were wide with madness.
"I'LL KILL YOU!" Markus shrieked, voice mangled and raw. "I'LL KILL ALL OF YOU!"
Aika gasped, hand flying to her mouth.
Rose stumbled back, tail stiff and twitching.
Kai gripped the bedframe so hard his knuckles went white.
The only sound was Markus—screaming, writhing, thrashing—trapped in a cage of light and steel.
And Arnik…
Arnik stared.
Kai's body jolted forward before his mind could catch up, slamming his palm against the terminal with a sharp crack. The impact rattled the console, but the feed continued, uncaring. Markus's screams echoed through the room—unfiltered, raw, and laced with something no human should ever have to feel.
"What the hell happened?!" Kai barked, voice shaking, eyes locked on Andrew like they could cut him in half. "Markus has one of the strongest wills I've ever seen—what the hell could've done this to him?!"
There was no answer.
Only Markus—thrashing, snarling, screaming like an animal cornered in its final moments.
Kai's mind reeled. Too strong for this. Too stubborn. Too proud.
And then—I have to go home. The words came back like thunder.
Markus's voice. A memory. A goodbye. Kai's stomach twisted, a cold, ugly realization blooming in his chest like rot. "…No…" he breathed, the word trembling on cracked lips. His pupils shrank.
He looked back at the screen—at what Markus had become.
His voice fell to a whisper.
"…He saw them. His family… he saw them die."
Everything inside him collapsed.
Kai's knees buckled, crashing to the floor with a hollow thud. His hand slipped from the console, fingers numb. It hung at his side, limp, like it no longer belonged to him. His shoulders sagged forward, spine curving under the invisible weight of what he now understood.
"Make it stop…" he muttered. His voice didn't rise. It shrank. Shriveled. "Please… make it stop…"
Aika let out a choked breath and doubled over, clutching her stomach as her body convulsed. She turned to the wall and dry heaved, her sobs too broken for sound.
Rose flinched. Her tail shot stiff behind her, not a hair twitching. Her hands balled into trembling fists, knuckles white as bone. She didn't look at the screen—she couldn't. Her gaze burned into the far wall, jaw clenched tight, eyes shimmering but refusing to let the tears fall.
And still… Markus screamed. Trapped in light. Shackled in steel.
Thrashing like the cage wasn't made of metal, but memory.
No one moved.
No one could.
The sound of Markus's rage—it wasn't just noise anymore. It was pain incarnate, echoing through the sterile room like a funeral bell that refused to stop tolling.
"I'LL KILL YOU!" he screamed. "I'LL KILL ALL OF YOU!"
Not a threat.
A plea.
A soul unraveling in real time.
Andrew stepped forward, slowly—like a man walking into a storm he'd already seen coming. His voice didn't rise. It didn't need to. The weight in it made the walls feel smaller.
"…Arnik. Come."
He didn't turn to look at them. He didn't offer comfort. Only direction. His words landed like iron dropped into water.
"You need to hear everything."
Arnik stirred, barely. His legs twitched to life beneath him, like the command had pushed air back into his lungs. He turned, stiff, gaze unfocused—but before he could move, Kai reached out with a shaky hand and grabbed his arm.
"I'm coming too," Kai said, barely above a whisper—but something in the way he said it left no room for argument.
Andrew's eyes cut toward him.
"No."
That single word cracked the air again. Cold. Commanding.
But before the tension could boil, another voice split the silence.
"We all deserve to know," Rose said.
She stepped forward. Her tail swayed behind her, no longer rigid but sharp, deliberate—like a blade waiting to strike. Her voice held none of Kai's desperation, but all of his resolve.
Andrew's jaw clenched. His eyes drifted from Rose… to Kai… then finally back to Arnik.
He let out a slow breath. The sound of a man surrendering—not to them, but to time itself.
"…Fine. Follow me."
They moved like shadows through the Defender's dim corridors, each footstep a whisper against metal floors.
Medical teams darted past them, pale and grim, their arms full of gauze and blood-soaked wraps. The hum of Machines and the sharp beeps of fading vitals surrounded them like a quiet war. The scent of antiseptic and blood clashed in the air—clinical, sterile, yet somehow sickening.
No one spoke.
Rose walked beside Aika, who was still trembling from the scene they had just witnessed. Quietly, without prompting, Rose reached over and covered Aika's eyes as they passed a door—just wide enough to glimpse a small, lifeless hand slipping off an operating table.
"Don't look," she whispered.
Aika nodded into her palm.
At last, they reached a heavy set of doors. Andrew placed his hand against the scanner, and it hissed open.
Inside was a chamber of sharp angles and cold light. The walls were lined with digital panels, some flashing with alerts, others streaming endless data. In the center of the room floated a slowly spinning holographic model of Earth—rotating in perfect silence.
But it was not the Earth they remembered.
Red warning markers pulsed like open wounds across the continents. Dozens. Maybe hundreds.
Andrew stepped forward and began typing. Each keystroke echoed.
As the hologram zoomed in, the true devastation revealed itself—cities blacked out, coastlines eaten away, entire regions redlined.
"This…" Andrew finally said, his voice low, even, "is what we're facing now."
He turned to them, his face unreadable.
"And what I'm about to tell you changes everything."
A moment passed.
Then another.
"For years, you've been told the Great Demon War was legend," he began. "Something buried in dusty books, or passed around like fairy tales to scare children. But it was real. And the truth…"
He paused, jaw tight.
"…was far worse than the stories."
He began to pace.
"Three thousand years ago, the world didn't just fall apart. It shattered. The demons didn't conquer—they erased. Cities didn't fall—they were vaporized. Soldiers weren't defeated—they were eaten alive. Entire bloodlines… gone. Whole languages, cultures, erased from memory."
His words filled the air like ash.
"No one was spared. Not humans. Not demi-beasts. Not mages. Not the winged, the horned, the scaled. The demons tore through them all. And no one… no one… could stop them."
He turned to the hologram, gaze hard.
"Until the Great Spirit chose a single human. No army. No weapons. Just… will."
He nodded toward Arnik.
"The First Mutant."
Arnik stiffened, but said nothing.
Andrew continued.
"With the Spirit's gift and the Archmages at his side, he turned the tide. They sealed the demons away—not destroyed them, sealed them. Trapped in a vessel forged with every ounce of magic the world could still offer."
"But…" Andrew's voice grew quieter. "It wasn't perfect. Something… survived. A sliver. A minded Demon.
Kai's voice cut in, sharp. "Lionel."
Andrew's eyes met his. "Yes."
Kai stepped forward, fists clenched. "Then why now? Why didn't you stop him before? How long have you known?!"
Andrew began to explain… everything.
"The first time I met Lionel face-to-face, I offered my hand." Andrew's tone in the present was low, deliberate.
In the memory, his palm met Lionel's. The grip was firm—too firm. The moment their skin touched, a jolt like raw lightning surged through Andrew's body. His breath caught, vision blurring for an instant. Every instinct he had roared the same truth—this man is not human.
"I didn't react," Andrew's voice continued. "I couldn't afford to. But in that instant, I knew something was wrong. Something dangerous."
From that moment on, every word Lionel spoke, every move he made… Andrew was watching. And when the signs began to pile up—the way Lionel was always one step ahead, how nothing seemed to rattle him, how people obeyed him without question—Andrew couldn't ignore it anymore."That's when I started digging," Andrew said.
He spent weeks combing through restricted archives, pulling old reports, and cross-checking classified files that should never have been touched. It led him to something buried deeper than anything he'd seen before—stone tablets locked in magic vaults, relics from the Great Demon War.
The warnings were clear. One demon survived. It would wait. It would wear the skin of man.Andrew's gaze hardened. "I couldn't expose him alone… I needed allies. I needed to gain the other Sovereigns' support."
He paused, his voice lowering. "So I journeyed to Mars… to meet with an old friend."
The Sovereign's palace was quiet, its long corridors empty except for the occasional guard standing at attention. Andrew's footsteps echoed as he made his way to the audience chamber, each step measured and deliberate.
Kaelus Redspire stood waiting at the center, his crimson cloak draped over his shoulders. His sharp features softened just slightly when Andrew entered.
"This isn't a social visit," Kaelus said, his tone low.
"It's Lionel," Andrew replied. "He's a demon."
Kaelus's expression tightened. "…You're certain?"
"I felt it the moment I touched his hand. And the records I found—they confirm it. He's been hiding in plain sight. I couldn't expose him alone… I needed allies. I needed to gain the other Sovereigns' support."
The room fell silent.
"If you're right," Kaelus said finally, "then he's a threat to every world in the Coalition."
"That's why I came to you," Andrew said, stepping forward. "I need your help to stop him—before it's too late."
Kaelus studied him for a long moment before crossing the room. His grip was firm as he clasped Andrew's forearm.
"You know, Andrew… if you're wrong—death is what waits for you." He paused. "…And me."
Andrew's gaze didn't waver. "You mean…?"
"I have no reason to doubt you, old friend," Kaelus said quietly.
The two released their grip, the weight of their pact heavy in the air.
"Arnik," Andrew said, voice firm again. "You have his blood. The First Mutant's. Whether you like it or not, you're the only one who might be able to stop him."
Arnik's lips parted, but no words came.
Then—
"I WILL JOIN!"
The voice was hoarse but clear.
Everyone turned.
Markus stood at the entrance, covered in blood and sweat, still wrapped in bandages. His knees shook. His body screamed for rest.
But his eyes… His eyes burned. "I don't care what it takes," he growled. "I want to fight. I want Lionel to burn."
Andrew gave him a slow nod. "Then you're in." Arnik looked at Markus. His throat worked as he swallowed. "I'll fight too," he said quietly. "If it's for Earth… I won't run."
Kai stepped forward. "Count me in." Rose followed. "Same."
Kai turned sharply. "No. This isn't a joke—" "You're not my father," Rose snapped.
Kai flinched. "Aika needs—" "I WILL JOIN TOO!"
Everyone froze. Aika stepped forward, still shaking, but standing on her own.
"I'm not staying behind," she said, her voice trembling—but her eyes were alive again. "I won't." Andrew raised his hand for silence. "They've made their choice, Kai."
Kai looked at each of them. Then slowly… he nodded.
"Fine. But if we're doing this… we do it right."
Andrew's gaze swept across them all, then locked onto Arnik.
"You'll train. You'll be pushed past your limits. You'll earn your place here. You want to stand against Lionel? Then prove it."
He stepped in close.
"You're young. Too young. But you've got something in you—a fire. A weight. A reason." He turned to Arnik again.
"And if you survive what's coming… maybe we have a chance."
Then—
"NOW GET MARKUS TO THE MED BAY BEFORE HE BLEEDS ALL OVER MY FLOOR!"
"Whoaaa—HEY—watch the arm—AGHH—" Markus groaned as Rose and Kai dragged him off.
Andrew watched them go.
Then… the silence returned.
He looked up at the spinning Earth, bathed in red. Ran a hand down his face. "I'm dragging kids into a war…" He clenched his fists, whispering: