2025-04-30 23:48:18
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Seat at the table?
The conference room in the Guild Hall was a private gathering hall for the elite. The space was filled with high- backed chairs carved from rare Mahogany, walls lined with kinetic maps of trade corridors, biotech patents, and surveillance nodes that shaped the world behind the scenes. A long crystal table stretched down the middle, and around it sat men and women whose last names held more power than most governments.Only, the focus of this evening was on Julius Colton.He was dressed in a sharply tailored black suit, shoulders squared, and posture straight.Seated silently at the far end of the table, his gaze was calm yet alert… watching, calculating. He knew eyes were on him, and the emotions hidden behind those gazes was more of curiosity and skepticism rather than respect and familiarity. “He’s the one married into the Heiress of Duke Morgan, isn’t he?” someone murmured near the espresso counter.“I heard he was the Nolan family's tool before this! Honestly, he looks like the
Grace?
The corridor outside Julius’s recovery room was quiet, save for the soft echo of approaching footsteps and the muted hum of hospital monitors. It had been a day since Clara had been escorted out, with everyone witnessing her dismissal.She might have left the hospital premises with downcast eyes, burning with disbelief and shame… but she wasn’t gone.Because the next day, she was standing outside the glass door of Room 4B, her hands shaking, cheeks blotchy red. Her badge had been removed, her white coat gone. All that remained was a plain navy cardigan, mussed hair, and eyes swollen from tears that hadn’t stopped since the night before.Miley stood beside Julius’s bed, her expression still unreadable, a polished tablet in her hand, checking on medication logs. She didn’t flinch when Clara stepped in, escorted by the hospital director once more.“I told her she could have three minutes, if that's okay with you ma'am.”The director said softly, then stepped back as Miley nodded. Jul
Whitewing Medical Center
The fluorescent lights of the Whitewing Medical Center buzzed faintly, humming over the polished marble that reflected nothing but cold efficiency. It smelled like bleach, iodine, and a quiet tension that clung to the walls.Julius sat in the private ward’s recliner, his frame still recovering from the mountain collapse and neural trauma. A faint IV line dripped sedatives into his bloodstream, dulling the fire that always simmered under his skin.The nurse entered briskly, scanning her tablet. “Colton, Julius. Room 4B. Huh.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “I thought they would at least keep you somewhere more… fitting.”He looked up, calm, unreadable. His vitals beeped steadily behind him.The nurse, Clara, as her tag read, smirked. ““You look familiar. Weren’t you the one always waiting in the Nolan estate’s back halls? You were their dog, right? The blood donor, who was forced to donate so much blood that his own body went into shock? Hmm, I've heard about you.”Julius didn’t resp
Global Security Council
The emergency lift screeched upward, metal groaning as it surged toward the snow-veiled surface. Behind them, fire chased shadows along the shaft, each explosion closer, louder, as if the mountain itself was rejecting the sins buried beneath it.Aurelia pressed her back to the wall of the lift, panting, one hand gripping her side. Blood seeped between her fingers, but her eyes never left the slumped figure in Miley’s lap.“Hold on… just hold on, okay?”Miley whispered to Julius. “We are almost out of here.”He didn’t respond, but his skin still glowed faintly, like embers refusing to die. Sweat trickled down his temples, and every so often his limbs twitched, residual aftershocks of the forced reawakening.“Come on…” she begged again, brushing hair off his forehead. “Don’t go somewhere I can’t follow you, please. I still have a life I want to live with you…”Aurelia tore her eyes away, staring upward. The exit loomed above them, a circular hatch, rimmed with rust and snowmelt. Just
Firebreak
Inside the flagship light of the containment chamber, Julius’s body spasmed, locked between unnatural power and synthetic paralysis. But in his mind, there was another war raging on. A war that was far worse.He saw himself standing in the middle of a burning city, while ash fell like snow around him. As far as the eye could see, skyscrapers collapsed in silence. Smoke curled upward like mourning veils, and civilians screamed in a language he didn’t understand. He looked around in confusion, but he could barely understand anything that was going on. He looked down at his own hands, which were partially mechanized, and covered in silver armour. But what caught him off guard was how monstrous they were… all his limbs were dripping with blood.“This is what you were made for.”The voice echoed across his skull, like a cold reminder. The Winter Lily director, who was long dead… he was standing in front of him, his face hollow and eyes glowing red in the hallucination.Julius roared
Breach
The missile streaked past the Wraith’s left rotor in a breathless flash, narrowly missing them by a miracle and a pilot’s instinct. The shockwave buckled one of the stabilizers, throwing the chopper into a spin. Inside, Miley’s world tilted, her body slamming against the restraint harness, the metal hull vibrating like thunder in her skull.“Brace!” The pilot roared.Moments later, the Wraith clipped a ridge and then descended hard, crunching through pine branches before skidding across the snow-covered slope. It finally slammed to a stop near the edge of a frozen ravine, steam hissing from the ruptured engine.Miley coughed against her elbow, unbuckled her seatbelt with trembling fingers, and reached for her sidearm.“Report!” She barked over the ringing in her ears.“I’m fine,” Aurelia groaned, already pulling herself upright and checking the condition of her gear. A streak of blood lined her temple, but she was standing, alert and focused.The pilot slumped forward, barely cons
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