The Last Mission of Marcus Hale
The night air around the Martial Arts Mansion was unnaturally still, as if the world itself was holding its breath.
Marcus Hale stood at the edge of the teleportation platform, his combat robes snapping softly in the mountain wind. The stone beneath his feet was etched with ancient runes—symbols passed down through generations of warriors who had stepped forward believing they would return.
Most of them did.
Marcus adjusted the leather guards around his wrists, feeling the familiar ache in his knuckles. He was not the strongest among the five hundred warriors gathered behind him, nor the fastest. But he was steady. Dependable. The kind of man others trusted when things went wrong.
Tonight, that mattered more than power.
Behind him, the warriors of the Martial Arts Mansion stood in disciplined silence—men and women trained in body and spirit, their eyes sharp with resolve. This mission was dangerous. An enemy base had appeared beyond the borders, threatening everything they protected. Intelligence suggested a swift strike and retreat.
In and out.
Marcus had heard those words before.
A soft footstep approached. He didn't turn. He already knew who it was.
"Try not to take so long," Caroline said.
Marcus smiled, finally facing her. She stood straight, arms crossed, dark hair tied back tightly. Her eyes searched his face, memorizing it without realizing she was doing so. Caroline was strong—stronger than most warriors in the Mansion—but tonight she was a wife first.
"I'll be home before the twins complain about training," Marcus said.
She scoffed. "They complain anyway."
They shared a brief laugh, but it faded too quickly.
Caroline stepped closer and pressed her forehead to his chest. "Five hundred warriors," she murmured. "And still I don't like it."
Marcus wrapped his arms around her. For a moment, the world shrank to just them. No missions. No enemies. Just the two of them, like they had been since high school—young, stubborn, and inseparable.
"Look after them," he said quietly.
She pulled back, eyes narrowing. "You talk like you won't."
Marcus shook his head. "I talk like a man who knows the cost of this life."
Their children watched from the stairs.
Mayson stood at the front, shoulders squared, already trying to be the man of the house. David and Melissa whispered quietly behind him. Ashley's hands were clenched, Stephen's jaw tight with frustration at being left behind. The twins, Madison and Michael, held each other's hands, confusion written across their young faces.
Marcus walked to them, kneeling so he was eye level with the twins. "Train hard," he said gently. "Listen to your mother."
He stood, resting a hand on Mayson's shoulder. "Protect them."
"I will," Mayson said, voice firm.
The teleportation runes ignited.
Light flooded the platform, swallowing sound, color, and breath.
Marcus stepped forward without hesitation.
The last thing he saw was Caroline reaching out.
The last thing he felt was the world tearing itself apart.
When the light vanished, Marcus Hale was gone.
And five years would pass before Earth realized the truth.
He had not died.
He had been reborn.