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THE FORGOTTEN SON

2025-09-09 14:22:34

About five days later, the city was alive outside his window, but inside Orion Dynamics, Marvin sat in a silence so thick it pressed against his skull.

His office looked more like a battlefield than a workspace. Papers littered the floor, contracts half-signed, memos ignored. Beer cans rolled aimlessly against the leg of his desk when he shifted his feet. The lamp on his desk flickered, its weak yellow glow bouncing off glass bottles stacked like fortifications around him.

Some were empty, some half-full, but all testified to the same truth: Marvin Richmond was drowning himself.

His shirt was undone at the collar, his tie was long discarded. His hair stuck to his forehead with sweat, and his face, unshaven, seemed older than his years. His glowing aura, once like a storm that shook rooms, now lingered faintly around him in broken flashes, the embers of a fire trying to cling to life.

He raised the beer bottle again, tilting it back. The liquid burned his throat but left the weight in

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THE ABOMINATION AND THE STATESMAN
The warehouse still groaned like a wounded beast. Dust spiraled down from its rafters in lazy sheets, turning the blue glow of the Veythar Ascendance into a haze that looked almost holy. But there was nothing divine here—only ruin.Mr. Richmond’s body lay crumpled in the cratered floor, his eyes glazed, his lips were frozen in the faint curve of a smile. The man who had schemed, who had taunted, who had dreamed of bending his son into a weapon, was gone. His aura was extinguished. His revenge ended before it could begin.The figure standing above him—Marvin’s body, but not Marvin—did not mourn. It did not pause. It did not even look at the corpse. It was already moving, because Mr Richmond had never been its true goal.The Veythar Ascendance tilted its head toward the broken warehouse doors. Night waited beyond, quiet and still, save for the hum of a distant city. The glow in its eyes flared, and with slow, deliberate steps, it left the ruin behind. Each footprint burned faintly int
ONE ORIGIN, ONE EXTINCTION
The dust still rained from the rafters. Steel groaned. The warehouse looked half-alive, trembling under the weight of something it wasn’t built to hold.Marvin stood in the center, his body was wrapped in a storm of light and sparks. His aura no longer shimmered gently. It didn’t flicker with effort. It raged like chains snapping free, wild and alive. But his face told a different story.He was calm. Too calm.His chest rose slow. His head tilted, and for the first time since the fight began, he laughed.Not a cruel laugh. Not mocking. Just… casual, almost playful, as though the world was finally making sense to him in a way words never could. He rubbed his jaw where his father’s lightning fist had landed. Blood streaked his chin, but he smiled through it.“You hit hard, Father,” he said softly, his tone was light, almost teasing. “But I think you woke something you can’t put back to sleep.”Then his laughter returned, a low hum rolling into the cracked air, echoing through the ruined
MARVIN VS MR RICHMOND: THE CLASH OF BLOOD AND POWER
The beam slammed toward Marvin like a spear of lightning.He raised his hands and focused, aura sparking around his body. The blue glow tightened into a shield, invisible to the eye but humming with raw telekinesis. The laser hit it and screeched across the barrier, splitting into two arcs that melted steel beams on either side.Marvin slid back across the floor from the force, boots cutting trails in the dust. His teeth clenched. His father’s strength was overwhelming, but he refused to yield.“Father,” Marvin called, his voice was steady but sharp, “stop this before you make me break my wall of defiance.”Above the roar of power, Mr. Richmond laughed. “Spare me your weakness. Power decides everything!”The air shook as his aura flared again. Sparks and crackles leapt from his body, bouncing across the warehouse floor.Mr. Richmond unleashed a storm. Beams of electric light stabbed down in rapid fire, each one exploding on impact. Steel crates melted into glowing slag. Sparks rained
THE SKY-BLUE WRATH
The warehouse was chaos.Gunfire cracked, arrows screamed through the air, steel clashed against steel. Marvin’s lungs burned, his muscles screamed, but he didn’t stop moving. Every instinct told him there was no running from this fight. Not with his father watching. Not with blood already on the floor.The first man lunged, blade flashing in the dim light. Marvin ducked low, rolled, and came up firing. The shot punched through the man’s chest, spinning him back into the shadows. Before the body hit the ground, Marvin snapped his pistol toward the rafters.The archer.The man had been waiting for the perfect angle, bowstring tight. Marvin’s bullet ripped through the wood beam just beneath him. The archer lost balance, his body tumbling. Marvin’s second shot found its mark mid-fall, and the man slammed into the concrete floor with a sickening crack.Two down. Three left.Boots thundered closer. One of the men charged, knife glinting in his hand. Marvin sidestepped, catching his wrist,
LEGACY OF FIRE
The air inside Warehouse 17 felt alive. Every breath Marvin took came with the taste of rust and salt, every heartbeat echoed in the hollow space. His pistol stayed steady in his hand, but his eyes flicked from the shadows above to the five men on the ground closing around him.And then his father spoke.“Ha. So you honored my invitation.”The voice was calm, proud almost. Marvin tightened his grip on the pistol.“What do you want from me?” His words cut through the air, sharper than the steel beams above.Mr. Richmond didn’t rush to answer. He let silence linger, heavy and suffocating, as if the pause itself was part of his power. Finally, his voice fell like a hammer.“To be honest,” he said, “I don’t know how to answer that question. But I feel that your existence in this world is a threat to my reputation.”Marvin blinked, stunned. “A threat? I don’t understand.”He stepped back a pace, shaking his head. His voice cracked with anger.“All I have done all my life is try to sustain
WAREHOUSE 17
The Morning AfterMarvin didn’t sleep that night.He tried—God, he tried. He rolled on the couch, stared at the ceiling, poured another glass of wine, even cut another line. But nothing drowned out the voice in his head.You killed my son. You killed my wife.It kept hammering, louder than the bass, sharper than the cocaine burn. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw faces. His step mother’s kind eyes. His half brother’s smile. Fire. Blood. Screams.By dawn, his body finally gave up, dragging him into a shallow, twisted sleep. He woke a few hours later drenched in sweat, the folded paper with the warehouse address still lying on the nightstand like it was waiting to mock him.He stared at it. His throat dried. His hands trembled. And then he reached for his phone.“Hello?”The voice on the other end was steady, calm. It was Uncle Christopher. Always steady, always calm.“It’s me,” Marvin said. His voice cracked. “Uncle, I… I need to talk.”“What’s wrong, son?”Marvin swallowed hard. T

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Latest Chapter

THE ABOMINATION AND THE STATESMAN

ONE ORIGIN, ONE EXTINCTION

MARVIN VS MR RICHMOND: THE CLASH OF BLOOD AND POWER

THE SKY-BLUE WRATH

LEGACY OF FIRE

WAREHOUSE 17