Supreme Awakening Of The General's Lost Son

Chapter 5

Dean's eyes widened in confusion as he asked, "Sorry, are you talking to me, sir?"

The man, Duke, replied with a bow, "Yes, Young Master."

Martha stepped forward, her voice mixed with concern. "Who are you?"

Duke stood up, his expression serious. "I am Duke, the assistant of the General, he sent me."

The mention of the General's name sent a ripple of fear through the crowd. Everyone knew that the General was the highest authority on earth, and even the rulers feared him.

Martha's voice trembled as she asked, "Hope we haven't done anything wrong?"

Duke reassured her with a smile. "You guys need to come with me. I promise nothing will happen to you all."

Martha nodded, and Duke turned to the landlord, who was still grumbling about the rent.

Duke nodded to one of his men, who opened a suitcase and handed the landlord a stack of cash.

"Is this okay?" Duke asked, and the landlord's expression changed in an instant.

"Yes, thank you, kind sir!" he exclaimed, bowing deeply.

With that, Duke, Dean, Martha, and the rest of the men entered the vehicle. Dean whispered to his mother, "What's going on?"

Martha shook her head. "I don't know."

The journey was silent and smooth, and soon they arrived at the gates of the General's mansion. As the gates opened, the grand mansion greeted them.

The mansion was a majestic structure with towering spires and sweeping arches. The exterior walls were made of gleaming white marble, adorned with intricate carvings and ornate details.

The roof was a brilliant blue, sparkling in the sunlight like a thousand diamonds.

As the cars stopped, the car door was opened by one of the guards, and Duke stepped out with a smile. "Welcome to the General's mansion. He is waiting for you. Please follow me."

As they stepped inside, their eyes widened in awe at the breathtaking beauty of the mansion's interior.

The foyer was a grand, high-ceilinged room with a sweeping staircase that curved like a ribbon.

The walls were adorned with exquisite artwork, and the floor was made of polished black marble that seemed to stretch on forever.

A stunning chandelier hung from the ceiling, casting a kaleidoscope of colors across the room.

Dean and Martha exchanged a stunned glance, their minds struggling to comprehend the sheer opulence that surrounded them. What was the General's true intention in bringing them here? They wondered.

As they entered the guest room, Dean's heart skipped a beat. The General was standing with his back to them, and Dean couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions; anxiety, curiosity, and a hint of fear.

This was the man he had heard so much about, the man who was rumored to be the most powerful person on earth.

As the General turned around, Dean's eyes widened in surprise. The General was a tall, imposing figure with a strong jawline and piercing blue eyes.

His hair was silver, cropped short, and his face was etched with deep lines, a testament to his age and experience.

He was dressed in a crisp, black uniform, adorned with medals and insignia that sparkled in the light.

But it was the General's eyes that caught Dean's attention. They seemed to bore into his soul, as if searching for something.

And then, the General's gaze shifted to Martha, and his expression changed. Concern etched his face, and he took a step forward.

"Hi, Martha," he said, his voice low and gravelly.

Martha's eyes widened in shock, and she gasped. "John Ambrose?" she whispered.

The General nodded, his eyes never leaving Martha's face. "I see you're surprised to see me," he said, his voice tinged with regret.

Dean's confusion deepened. What was going on? How did his mother know the General?

"Mom, what's going on?" Dean asked, but Martha just shook her head, her eyes darting between the General and Dean.

The General took a step forward, his eyes locked on Martha. "Martha, should I tell Dean the truth?" he asked, his voice low and urgent.

Martha's reaction was immediate. She spun around, her eyes blazing with anger. "You have no right to tell him anything," she spat, her voice venomous.

She turned to Dean, her eyes pleading. "Let's go, Dean. We don't need to hear what he has to say."

But Dean hesitated. He wanted to know what the General had to say. He wanted to know the truth.

"No, Mom, I want to hear what he has to say," Dean said, his voice firm.

Martha's face fell, and she looked at Dean with a mixture of sadness and fear. "Dean, please. Just this once, listen to me."

But Dean shook his head. "No, Mom. I need to know the truth."

The General stepped forward, his eyes locked on Dean. "I'm sorry, Martha. Please, just hear me out."

Martha spun around, her eyes blazing with anger. "You have nothing to say to me," she spat.

But the General's next words stopped her in her tracks. "Dean, I'm your father."

The air seemed to freeze, and Dean felt like he had just been struck by lightning. He turned to the General, his eyes wide with shock.

"What did you just say?" Dean asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

The General's eyes locked on Dean's, and he repeated his words. "I'm your father, Dean."

The room fell silent, the only sound was the heavy breathing of the occupants. Dean's mind reeled as he tried to process the General's words.

Could it be true? Was this man, this powerful and feared General, really his father? Or was this some sort of a prank?