The monsters had been subdued and dragged back to their high-security cells, but the victory felt like a defeat. As the four heroes touched down at the base, the air was thick with a tension that even Micheal's wind couldn't clear.
Donald was the first to speak, his heavy stone boots echoing on the metal floor. He marched toward Robert, who was leaning against a workbench, his face hidden behind his visor.
"Why did you come there?" Donald demanded, his voice a low growl. "I gave you an order, Robert. You put the whole mission at risk by leaving the base."
Robert looked up, a cold blue light flickering in his eyes. "Why shouldn't I come? If I hadn't arrived with the spaceship and the weapons, you'd still be wrestling those beasts in the surf."
"I said it from the start!" Donald shouted, stepping into Robert's personal space. "You can't manage the field! You belong in the lab!"
"Shut your mouth and do your work, Donald," Robert hissed, his voice trembling with a mixture of rage and hurt. "I am not your servant."
Erif stepped between them, his gauntlets glowing a dull, warning orange. "Stop! In the name of the law, both of you—enough!"
"You be quiet, Erif!" Donald snapped, turning his fury on the fire-user.
"Stop it!" Robert yelled, his voice cracking. "I'm done. I am going."
He turned and retreated into his private quarters, the heavy pressurized door hissing shut behind him. Inside the silence of his room, Robert didn't rest. He knelt by the shattered remains of the hologram projector he had smashed earlier. With the steady, practiced hands of a researcher, he began to piece the circuitry back together.
When the blue light finally flickered back to life, the image of the Evil Supreme God reappeared. This time, Robert didn't look away.
"The address," Robert whispered. "Give me the location."
The dark deity smiled, a jagged, terrifying expression. "A man of vision at last. Go to the old truck in Sector 9. Your evolution awaits."
Robert didn't go alone. When he stepped out into the common area, Tom and Micheal were waiting. They had heard the argument; they had felt the sting of Donald's arrogance and Erif's inability to keep the peace. They, too, felt the pull of a power that didn't require permission.
"We're going with you," Tom said, his eyes sparking with a restless blue electricity. "If there's a way to evolve... to truly become what the Supreme God intended... we're taking it."
They followed the coordinates to a rusted, abandoned truck on the outskirts of the city. Inside, a hooded figure waited in the shadows. "You should not know where we are going," the man whispered.
Suddenly, the world twisted. The truck didn't move; it vanished.
In a heartbeat, the three heroes stood in the throne room of Iqtadar's Palace. The walls were made of obsidian, and the air smelled of ozone and ancient blood. The Evil Supreme God stood before them, his presence a crushing weight.
"Welcome," the God purred. He turned his gaze toward Robert. "The first among you to see the truth. Come. Let us begin."
He raised a hand, and a beam of violet energy struck Robert. The young hero collapsed to the floor, a scream tearing from his throat. Evolving manually, without the slow refinement of the Supreme God's grace, was an agony beyond description. His cells were being rewritten; his water-based powers were crystallizing, hardening, turning into a lethal, unbreakable frost.
When the light faded, Robert stood up. He was taller, his eyes now a piercing, frozen white.
"These powers..." Robert breathed, his voice sounding like cracking ice. "They are... magnificent. Give me suits. Give me missions."
"I have no missions yet," the Evil Supreme God replied, watching the new warrior with pride. "When I do, the hologram will speak. For now... return. Show them what a 'waste' can truly do."
Back at the base, Donald and Erif were staring at the empty rooms of their friends.
"I didn't make any mistakes," Donald muttered, though his voice lacked its usual conviction. "Why did they go there?"
"You scowled at him, Donald," Erif said quietly, looking at the floor. "You pushed him until he broke."
A sudden beep echoed from the hangar. They ran out to find a truck parked in the center of the floor. Robert, Tom, and Micheal stepped out, their auras significantly more powerful than when they had left.
"Why did you go there?" Erif asked, his voice full of hope and fear. "Come back to us."
"Yes!" Donald added, though he couldn't help the sneer that returned to his face. "Robert is a mental—why did you two join him?"
"Shut your mouth, Donald," Erif snapped, but it was too late.
Tom stepped forward, a strange, distant smile on his face. "Don't worry. Be happy, Erif."
"Leave it," Robert said, his voice cold as a winter grave.
"No comments," Micheal added, his eyes tracing the winds that now felt like jagged blades in his grip.
The team was back together, but the brotherhood was dead. As they walked toward the training grounds to test Robert's new ice powers, a siren wailed from the city center. A Sabretooth Tiger, a prehistoric beast resurrected by Iqtadar's dark science, had been released from its cage.
"Let's see," Robert whispered, the ground freezing beneath his feet. "Let's see who is the waste now."