2024-12-23 17:43:36The room fell silent as the sharp crack of her slap echoed through the air. Samuel’s head turned slightly from the impact, but he didn’t react otherwise. His jaw tightened, his calm demeanor only fueling her anger.
“Bastard!” she spat, her voice trembling with fury.
As she raised her hand for another slap, Samuel caught her wrist mid-air.
“That’s enough,” he said coldly.
“I let you slap me twice.”
“The first was to repay the debt I owe your grandparents for taking me in.”
“The second was for the years you claim you were ‘trapped’ with me.”
“Now, we’re even. I owe you nothing.”
Madeline froze, her face a mixture of shock and rage.
How dare he defy her?
For years, she had grown used to Samuel’s quiet compliance, his willingness to endure whatever she threw at him.
She didn’t see her own faults, only her mounting anger.
This was all Samuel’s fault, she thought bitterly, especially after hearing about the investors pulling out because of him.
She burned with fury, wishing she could destroy him then and there.
The door behind her flew open, and Arthur’s voice rang out.
“Madeline!”
Arthur and Gideon hurried down the stairs, their faces a mix of confusion and alarm.
Arthur’s eyes locked on Samuel, his expression twisting in disbelief.
“What? Samuel?” he muttered, his voice low and stunned.
“Yes! You all see this asshole showed up!” Madeline’s voice rang out sharply as she pointed an accusing finger at Samuel.
Arthur’s expression darkened.
This woman—she had brought Gideon Hawthorne here, to a place that held such special meaning for the two of them.
“How did you get out of prison, you fugitive?” Arthur snapped, glaring at Samuel before signaling a waiter. “Call security!”
Samuel’s eyes moved between Arthur, Gideon, and Madeline.
He could feel their hostility bearing down on him, but he stood firm.
“I should’ve known—you’ve always been a worthless scumbag!” Madeline shouted, her voice cracking with anger.
Hurried footsteps echoed as the restaurant’s security guards arrived, followed by the manager.
The manager quickly took stock of the situation and gestured discreetly to the guards to hold back.
He wasn’t about to act rashly—especially not against Samuel Hayes, the man who had once saved the entire vineyard.
But Samuel had no intention of escalating the situation.
He gave a faint smile and nodded slightly at Gideon.
“Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Hawthorne,” he said calmly, his voice steady.
Arthur’s face turned red with angry.
“Don’t pretend like you know him! You have no right to speak to The Hawthornes’ young master!”
“So, you’re Samuel Hayes?” Gideon sneered, stepping closer.
He looked Samuel up and down, curling his lip in disdain.
“Born a loser, destined to stay one. People like you deserve to be taught a lesson.”
His tone dripped with arrogance, clearly eager to play the hero. His pride, already bruised by the manager’s earlier praise of Samuel, demanded satisfaction.
He cracked his knuckles dramatically, drawing everyone’s attention.
“What are you waiting for? Arrest him already!” Arthur barked at the guards.
“Relax, Mr. Brooks,” Gideon said with a smug grin. “It’s no fun sending him back right away. Let me handle him first.”
He squared his shoulders, settling into a fighting stance.
As the heir of a wealthy family, Gideon had access to every privilege money could buy, including martial arts training.
His trainers were former special forces soldiers, making him confident that no ordinary person could match him in a fight.
Muay Thai was his specialty, and he couldn’t wait to show off.
He could already picture Samuel sprawled on the ground, utterly defeated.
Smirking, Gideon’s grin widened as he looked at Samuel.
“When you beg for mercy, Hayes, make sure it’s loud enough. I wouldn’t want to miss it.”
Samuel’s face stayed calm.
“You’re not even worth fighting with me,” he replied coldly.
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287
The dawn light painted backdrop hues of amber and rose across Sanctuary’s horizon, but Joey felt no peace. Instead, his chest bore the weight of conviction—or perhaps desperation. After Samuel’s victory over the Archive’s vanguard, shadows yet lingered along their future. Joey knew that unless a bold choice was made now, the scars of war—and of power—would fester into something unseen but deadly.He walked down the central encampment, passing makeshift training grounds where Ascendants learned to shape reality with trembling confidence. A tall veteran froze when Joey approached. “Sir, Commander?”“Lieutenant Markos,” Joey replied, voice calm but firm. “Assemble your squad near the north perimeter in twenty minutes. We’re moving out.”Markos blinked. “The… Ascendant patrol? Why?”“Because we’re reclaiming the Lost Vault in the Old City,” Joey said, unwavering. “It’s time we know what Archive left behind.”Under the cracked sky of the ruined metropolis, Samuel and a group of veterans fo
286
The morning mist curled low over the hills beyond Sanctuary, shrouding the valley in uneasy quiet. Birds did not sing. The wind whispered in short gasps, as if the land itself braced for something it could not name.Samuel stood on the southern ridge, barefoot in the dew, eyes closed. His aura flared around him—an ever-shifting blend of radiance and void, stars and abyss. Since the Veil’s fall, his power had not faded. If anything, it had deepened—grown stranger. He no longer summoned light or shadow. He summoned truths—hidden layers of reality that shimmered beneath the skin of the world.Behind him, Joey climbed the ridge.“They’re coming,” Joey said, breath heavy. “The Archive. We caught a signal—encrypted, but we decrypted just enough. They’re not hiding anymore.”Samuel’s eyes opened slowly, glowing like dying suns. “They never needed to hide. They were always waiting for the fracture to close.”“And now they want your power.” Joey said it plainly.Samuel nodded. “Not just mine.
285
Dawn broke over Sanctuary with cautious light, each ray testing the fragile peace stitched by the fallen veil. The air felt alive, electric with lingering energies, as if the world itself whispered of dangers still unvanquished.Samuel stood atop the Watchtower’s wooden platform, wind tugging at his cloak. Below, Ascendants trained—some practiced delicate spatial shifts; others honed shields of radiant void. Joey paced beside him, silent in watchfulness.“They train well,” Joey said, voice low.Samuel’s eyes remained fixed on the horizon. “Veil lost the war—but not its will. Its remnants persist. I can feel fragments of it in the shadows.”Next to them, a flock of birds took flight—each wingbeat echoing with samuel’s own astral pulse. A small ripple of spatial distortion flickered when they passed—remnant energy dancing at world’s edge.Joey followed his gaze, concern etched in his expression. “We need to find it before it finds us.”Samuel nodded. “I’ll traverse the boundary.” He lif
284
The wind that swept through the valley was no longer laced with ash or whispers from the Veil. For the first time in what felt like centuries, sunlight poured cleanly over the fractured lands. No crackling distortions in the air, no looming shadows. Just warmth.Yet, despite the clarity of the skies, the earth still bore the scars of war.Samuel stood atop the jagged remnants of what used to be the Unity Tower, his cloak fluttering around his legs, gaze focused on the horizon where the new settlement was beginning to take shape. In the fields below, hundreds of veterans moved like ants—rebuilding tents, raising wooden frames, and dragging supply crates from broken vaults. Children, those rare few born during the years of chaos, played near the edges, their laughter unfamiliar, almost foreign. But it was real.Joey joined him, wiping sweat from his brow and carrying a rolled-up map. “They're calling it the Sanctuary now,” he said, gesturing to the settlement. “Guess the name stuck.”Sa
283
Where once rifts tore the heavens asunder and poured chaos into the world, now gentle light spilled across the wreckage like a balm. The ground remained cracked in places, darkened by ash and battle, but small signs of life were beginning to return—sprigs of green pushing defiantly through the blackened soil.Joey stood at the edge of what was once their central outpost, now reduced to rubble and scorched foundation stones. Around him, survivors moved slowly—rebuilding tents, salvaging supplies, carrying the wounded. The air still buzzed with the remnants of supernatural energy, warping the edges of reality like heat haze, but the worst had passed.Samuel hadn’t spoken since the sealing. Not since Ilyra and Marie vanished into light.He sat alone beneath the scorched remains of the unity tree—what once had been the symbolic center of the community. His eyes were open, glowing faintly with that strange silver light, but his thoughts were clearly far, far away.“Still no change?” Joey a
282
The battlefield was still trembling. The skies, though calmer than before, remained torn at the seams—revealing the scars of war between dimensions. Dust and arcane fire clouded the horizon, and energy from both Veil and Light shimmered in unstable equilibrium.Samuel stood at the eye of the storm, his body surrounded by a radiant spiral of opposing forces. He was no longer just a man—he was the fulcrum upon which the balance of the world now teetered.But the equilibrium was not enough.Despite the unity of the dimensions he had nearly achieved, the wound that Veil’s final assault had left across the world continued to spread—slowly but surely consuming existence from the inside.“The fracture is healing,” Joey said, his voice hoarse as he arrived beside Samuel, “but not fast enough.”Samuel nodded. “The energies are still too unstable. If we don’t anchor them soon... everything we saved will burn.”Suddenly, from within the ranks of exhausted veterans and survivors, a presence emerg
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