The Blake mansion was unusually quiet that afternoon, it was the kind of silence that felt heavy instead of peaceful.
Ethan Ward stood in the long hallway and stared at the patterned wallpaper, but his mind was far from it. His thoughts kept returning to the video call he had received from Steward James Leonard. The old man’s face, the urgency in his voice, and the mention of his grandfather had lingered in the back of Ethan’s mind all day. He hadn’t returned the call. He hadn’t even thought about doing so. The moment Steward Leonard mentioned Master Magnus Xavier, something in Ethan had tightened. A familiar bitterness, buried years ago, surfaced again. His grandfather, Magnus Xavier, wasn’t just wealthy or respected. He was the kind of man people described with terms like “influential,” “untouchable,” and “dangerous.” He was a man who controlled a vast tech business empire and believed reputation was more important than family. When Ethan’s mother married a humble schoolteacher—the man Ethan called father—Magnus Xavier cut her off instantly. No visits, no medical support, no help when bills piled up. He had banished her completely, declaring that she no longer carried the Xavier name. Ethan grew up watching his parents struggle, watching them push through life with quiet dignity. They worked hard, held onto hope, and raised him without ever letting him feel the sharp edges of poverty. But they also aged too fast. Stress and sacrifice did that. His father died early. His mother followed not long after. Still the Xavier family never came. Never apologized. Never cared. So when Steward Leonard appeared on Ethan’s screen the night after Yvonne’s celebration, bowing respectfully and saying Magnus Xavier urgently wanted to see him, Ethan ended the call without hesitation. His grandfather Magnus Xavier had abandoned him when it mattered most. He owed them nothing. He let out a slow breath and adjusted the collar of his shirt. Today was important for a different reason. He had an interview at a mid-tier tech firm—one of the few places that might consider someone whose company had collapsed so publicly. He had spent most of his savings compensating his former employees. He didn’t regret that choice, but it left him with little to rebuild with. The Blake family reminded him of that every day. Especially Margaret, Yvonne’s mother. He needed this job not just for himself, but to stop them from treating him like a burden they were counting the days to throw out. He carried his folder—CV, certificates, references—and stepped out into the courtyard. The Mercedes G-Wagon waited in the corner. The car was one of the last reminders of a time when he had a thriving company, loyal employees, and a bright future. Even now, it gave him a small sense of stability. He reached for the door handle, but the deep hum of an engine approaching drew his attention. A sleek black luxury sedan rolled into the courtyard, polished to perfection. This was the kind of vehicle owned by people who lived comfortably in circles of influence and privilege. The car came to a stop. The door opened. Senator Adrian Cole stepped out first. He looked flawless—handsome, tall, dressed in a fitted suit that spoke of power and confidence. The kind of man who had never known a setback. The kind who took what he wanted. Yvonne stepped out after him. The sight made Ethan’s body become tense. Her expression, usually cool toward him, warmed instantly when she looked at Adrian. She smiled, laughed at something he whispered, and stood close enough that their shoulders brushed. Their hands touched briefly. Their eyes lingered too long. The message was clear. Clearer than any words. Then Adrian leaned forward and kissed her cheek lightly. Yvonne didn’t pull away. She smiled. Ethan felt something twist painfully inside his chest. Seeing them together was different from suspecting it. Suspicion hurt. Confirmation cut deeper. They started walking toward the mansion, ignoring him as if he didn’t exist. Adrian finally turned and noticed Ethan, offering a slow, mocking grin. “Well, well. Brother-in-law,” he said. His tone carried no respect at all. Ethan didn’t respond. There was nothing to say. Before he could open his car door, Margaret Blake swept out of the mansion. Her face lit up when she saw Adrian, her voice turning sweet instantly. “Mr. Cole, you’re here again. What an honor. Please come inside. We were just talking about you.” Adrian nodded politely. “Always a pleasure, Aunty Margaret.” But the moment her eyes shifted to Ethan, her expression hardened into that of cold irritation. “What are you doing with those keys?” she snapped. “Please don’t tell me you plan to use the G-Wagon today.” Ethan held her gaze. “And what if I am?” Margaret strode toward him, yanked the keys from his hand, and held them with triumph. “I’m going out for shopping. I need the G-Wagon.” “That’s my car we are talking about.” Ethan’s voice stayed level, though annoyance simmered beneath. “I bought it with my own money.” Margaret let out a sharp laugh. “And who pays the taxes? Who pays the maintenance? The insurance? Not you of course. Yvonne covers everything in this house. So practically, nothing here belongs to you.” Ethan clenched his jaw. “When things were going well, you praised me. You called me the son-in-law who brought light to this family. Now that things are difficult for me, you treat me like nothing. You act like a parasite who only respects money.” Margaret froze for a second, then her hand shot forward and struck him across the face. The sound echoed through the courtyard. “How dare you talk to me like that!” she shouted. She pushed him aside and climbed into the G-Wagon, slamming the door. The engine roared as she drove off. Yvonne approached, her eyes burning with anger. “Ethan, what is wrong with you? Why would you talk to my mother that way? You embarrassed us in front of Mr. Cole.” “She humiliated me first,” Ethan said, keeping his voice steady. “She’s my mother,” Yvonne snapped. “You should show respect, especially in front of a dignitary.” Adrian stepped behind her and rested his arm on her waist with possessive ease. He smirked at Ethan. “Come on, babe,” he said to Yvonne. “Don’t waste energy on him. Losers like him don’t deserve attention.” He leaned in and whispered loudly enough for Ethan to hear, “Save your strength for somewhere better… like tonight.” Ethan’s fists tightened. He wanted to hit Adrian, to wipe that smug expression off his face. But he held back. He had nothing to gain and too much to lose if he did so. Yvonne didn’t love him anymore. Their love had faded just before his company failed. Adrian had merely stepped into the empty space she left behind. “Forget it,” Ethan muttered. He picked up his folder and walked past them toward the gate. Whatever pain he felt, he buried it deep. He didn’t look back. He didn’t want to see Yvonne leaning into another man or hear Adrian’s voice again. What mattered now was escaping this house before it finally crushed him. He reached the quiet road outside the gates. For the first time in weeks, a spark of determination flickered in his chest. He would rebuild. He would find work. He would start again. Just as he took his next step, his phone buzzed. A message appeared. And whatever hope he had felt paused in his chest as he read the screen, realizing the day was far from over.Latest Chapter
THE ANGER OF THE LOYAL
The silence after the broadcast was worse than the voice that had filled it.The screen went dark, but Lucien Varros still felt present in the room, as if his words had stained the walls and refused to leave. Ethan remained seated on the edge of the hospital bed, one hand resting near the cold tea, the other close to the burned teddy bear. He did not speak. He did not move. Captain Lorne did both.“This is too much!”His voice hit the room like a strike. He turned away from the screen so sharply that the portable unit rattled on its stand. Then he paced once, twice, stopped near the window, and hit the wall frame with the side of his fist hard enough to make the metal ring.“They recorded it,” he said. “They attacked you, they filmed it, and then they stood in front of cameras and bragged about it.”Ethan said nothing.Lorne turned back toward him. “No shame. No restraint. No fear. They speak like they own the law, like they own the sky, like they own death itself.”He took another
THE BROADCAST OF MOCKERY
The drone did not blink.It held Ethan’s helicopter in the center of the screen with a steadiness that felt more hateful than chaos ever could. In the quiet of the medical room, the image looked even worse than the memory. It was not a battlefield view. It was an execution angle.Lorne stared at the screen as if the machine itself had insulted him. “They recorded it,” he said.The camera remained fixed. The helicopter rose slightly from the ground. Men moved below like targets already measured and dismissed. The image sharpened one degree more, as if whoever controlled the drone had wanted every second preserved.Lorne’s voice went lower and harder. “They recorded everything.”Ethan said nothing.The screen flashed white.Then the explosion came again.Even knowing it was coming did not soften it. Fire burst through the side of the helicopter. Metal blew outward in a vicious bloom. The camera shook once from the pressure wave, then stabilized again, still watching. The anchor’s vo
THE SILENCE AFTER SURVIVAL
Four days after the explosion, the quiet around Ethan felt unnatural.He sat upright in the main headquarters of the Tribunal army medical wing wearing a plain hospital gown, a light blanket over his legs, and slim white plasters across his ribs and shoulder. A cup of tea rested untouched on the small table beside him. Next to it sat Nira’s teddy bear, cleaned as much as possible but still marked by smoke at one ear.The room was soft with machine beeps and filtered light. It should have felt safe. It did not.A doctor stood at the foot of Ethan’s bed with a chart in hand while two others finished reviewing his scans on a wall screen. The oldest of them adjusted his glasses, studied the numbers one last time, and then stepped forward.“You should still be in bed,” the doctor said.Ethan looked at him calmly. “I am where I need to be.”The doctor let out a careful breath. “That attitude is the reason you are difficult to treat master Ethan.”Lorne, who had been standing near the wind
THE ASSASSINATION ATTEMPT
The helicopter had barely left the ground when the attack spread.The blast under Ethan’s aircraft ripped through the cabin with a savage force that turned light, heat, and metal into one violent wall. The side of the helicopter vanished inside flame. Screams burst from the yard below. For one stunned second, the other two helicopters still held position, their pilots trying to understand whether the explosion had come from inside, below, or from the dark beyond the landing zone.Then someone on the ground saw them first.“Drones!”The shout cut across Rathenfall like a blade. Heads snapped upward. Small black shapes dropped out of the smoke above the hospital perimeter and came fast, low, and direct toward the remaining helicopters. Their engines whined like insects. Their intent was cleaner than artillery and colder than gunfire.One pilot yelled over the comms, “Incoming! Incoming!”A second later, the first drone struck the tail side of the nearest helicopter. Metal screamed. G
THE TRAP SPRINGS
“I came here, because I need to, and I am leaving here, because I need to, however I am sure that the Herold army will try to attack our western command once more,” Ethan said. “And when they do, they will find us ready.”He did not raise his voice when he said it, but the certainty in it carried farther than shouting. It was not a promise built on comfort. It was one built on inevitability.Something changed in the crowd then. It was not joy. Rathenfall was too damaged for joy. But a shape of hope moved through them, thin and unsteady and still alive.Some of them straightened slightly. Others simply stopped trembling as much. It was not belief yet—but it was enough to hold onto for one more hour.Lorne came to Ethan’s side. “First helicopter is ready.”Ethan adjusted Nira slightly in his arms. She had not let go of the teddy bear for once. “She comes with me.”There was no hesitation in the decision. No calculation. Just a quiet acceptance that leaving her behind was not an option.
WHEN HOPE IS QUESTIONED
The crying did not belong to the noise around him.That was what made Ethan stop. Around him, Rathenfall still moved like a wounded body trying not to collapse. Soldiers ran with crates. Medics shouted for stretchers. Coughing came from three different corners at once. But through all of it, he heard the thin, broken sound of a child trying to cry quietly because she had already learned that loud pain changed nothing.He turned toward the far edge of the hospital yard.A little girl stood near a cracked wall with a dirty teddy bear clutched to her chest. Her dress was gray with dust. One sleeve had been torn halfway at the shoulder. Her cheeks were streaked with dried tears, and her eyes were so red that for one second Ethan thought she had also taken gas into her lungs.He slowed as he approached her. “What’s wrong?”The girl looked up sharply, as if she had not expected anyone to stop for her. She could not have been more than seven. Her face hit him with a strange, uncomfortable
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