Rise Of The General's Forgotten Son

Chapter 5

 

The screen came to life. 

 

Gasp!

 

Elijah’s breath caught. There he was—a man in his late forties, maybe early fifties, sitting in a luxurious steady room. His sharp features were unmistakable. The room behind Marcus Steel was lined with bookshelves filled with leather-bound books. A golden desk sat in the background, papers neatly stacked—everything about him screamed authority and control. And yet, there was something gentle in the way he smiled, as though he held the entire world at his fingertips.

 

The high cheekbones, the piercing green eyes, and the streaks of silver in his neatly combed hair matched every image Elijah had seen in magazines and on TV. But there was something more personal in the way he looked at Elijah now—something almost... familiar.

 

Seeing that the man on his screen was actually the same as General Marcus Steel he had always saluted, his heart raced, and he felt his entire body tense up. A million thoughts swirled in his head: Was this real? Could he actually be looking at the face of General Marcus Steel, the man whose poster loomed over the city, whose name everyone whispered with respect, and—could he really be my father?**

 

The man tilted his head slightly, studying Elijah through the camera. "You don’t believe me, do you?" 

 

Elijah didn’t answer. He couldn’t. His mind was still reeling from the shock. His hands shook as he held the phone, trying to piece together what he was seeing. This has to be a trick. 

 

It has to be. But the man on the screen smiled faintly, though his eyes remained serious. "I understand. If I were in your shoes, I wouldn’t believe it either." His voice was low, calming, almost soothing. 

 

"But Elijah, it’s me. It’s really me. I’ve waited for this moment for years.”

 

Elijah blinked, finally breaking his stunned silence. The name rang in his ears like a bell. This was the man whose face was plastered on posters, the man whose power loomed over entire nations. 

 

And now he claims to be his father? His father? Elijah’s grip on the phone tightened, knuckles white. His voice was barely a whisper. 

 

"You... you’re Marcus Steel?” "You... you’re Marcus Steel?" The man nodded, but there was a trace of sorrow in his expression. "Yes. I’m your father.”

 

Elijah’s grip on the phone tightened, his knuckles white. His chest ached from the whirlwind of emotions tearing through him—anger, disbelief, hope, confusion. "No. This... this can’t be real," Elijah said, his voice cracking. "My parents are dead.

 

He stared at the screen, his heart racing and mind swirling. He had grown up in an orphanage, surrounded by the laughter of other children and the comforting chaos of a makeshift family. But those memories were bittersweet—filled with longing and the ache of knowing he had no parents to call his own.

 

He remembered the creaky old beds, the scent of the shared kitchen, and the kind-hearted but overwhelmed staff who did their best to care for dozens of kids. Every birthday, he would watch the other children receive letters or visits from their families, while he was left wondering who his parents were. The thought of having a father—a real father—felt like a distant dream.

 

“How could you say you’re my dad?” Elijah blurted, struggling to reconcile the man on the screen with the reality he had lived. “I’ve never had parents. I grew up as an orphan. I’ve been told my whole life that I had no one. So how can you just suddenly appear and claim to be my father?”

 

His voice cracked slightly, the pain of his past surfacing as he fought against the rush of emotions. Was it possible? The man before him had the power and stature that everyone admired, but could he really be his father?”

 

The General's expression softened as he gazed into the camera, sensing Elijah's turmoil. “There are a whole lot of things your mom and I need to explain to you, Elijah, but for now, there's no time.”

 

Elijah stared at the screen, still reeling from the revelation. “My mother?” he echoed, his heart racing.

 

“Yes,” General Marcus Steel confirmed, nodding. “Your biological mother. There are a whole lot of things your mom and I need to explain to you, but for now, there’s no time.”

 

Wow! Elijah couldn’t even form a coherent thought. It felt surreal—like a dream where a celebrity suddenly calls you up, claiming you’re related to them. A part of him wanted to scream with disbelief, but another part—a deeper part—was filled with a flicker of hope. The possibility of having wealthy parents who could have given him a life free from the struggles of the orphanage was staggering. Why, then, had he grown up in that place?

 

Seeing the confusion etched on Elijah’s face, the General continued, “You shouldn’t think too much about it right now, son. But you’re 21 now, and it’s time to break the restrictions we placed on you.”

 

“Restrictions? What restrictions?” Elijah asked, his brow furrowing.

 

“Restrictions on your knowledge and on your life,” the General explained. “Now that you’re 21, you’re finally mature enough to handle things. You don’t need to continue living the kind of life you’ve been living—the hardship, the struggles. I would have sent a private jet to pick you up, but right now, I can’t do that due to some pressing matters at hand. However, I do have a well-prepared gift for you.”

 

“A gift?” Elijah repeated, still trying to catch up with the whirlwind of information. “What gift?”

 

The General smiled, a glimmer of pride in his eyes. “Something that will change your life, son. I promise.”

 

Elijah's eyes widened in disbelief. “What could that be?” he asked, trying to wrap his mind around the situation.

 

“Why not let us do this, son?” General Marcus Steel suggested with an encouraging smile. 

 

““Name your price, son,” he said with quiet confidence. “Whatever you need, I’ll make it happen.”

 

“What?” Elijah asked again, almost incredulously, as if he hadn’t heard clearly.

 

The General nodded, his expression serious yet warm. “Yes, any amount. Just mention it, and Daddy will give it to you as a gift.”

 

Elijah shook his head in disbelief. “Me? Amount of money I want?” The weight of those words hung in the air, and his heart raced. He felt like he was living in a fantasy, yet the reality was overwhelming. “Are you serious?”

 

“Absolutely,” the General replied, his tone reassuring. “You deserve it, son. Just tell me the amount.”

 

Elijah took a deep breath, his mind racing. The hardships he had faced suddenly felt surreal. The thought of having a safety net, of no longer needing to struggle for every penny, was intoxicating. 

 

"I... I don’t know,” he stammered, still grappling with the magnitude of the situation. “How much should I even ask for?”

 

The General laughed, a deep, rich sound that filled the air. “Alright, how about I give you a million dollars for a start?” he proposed, a hint of pride in his voice. “I’ll give you more later once you’re done using up this.”

 

“What? A what?. Gulp!” He swallowed hard.

A million dollars? The words echoed in his mind, each syllable hammering against the walls of his disbelief. Are you serious?” His heart raced with excitement and disbelief. The sum seemed astronomical, almost too good to be true. “You really mean it?”