2025-06-13 19:59:44Victor couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
Michael Grey, the cousin he was sure was dead, shot, and drowned, was standing in front of him, very much alive. There wasn’t a scratch on him either. “This is impossible,” Victor hissed, trying to yank his arm free. “You’re a dead man.” Michael tilted his head slightly, voice calm and cruel. “And yet, here I am. Breathing. Walking. Talking. You must be disappointed.” He let go of Victor’s wrist and stepped past him, toward his sister. Ari was frozen in place, her eyes wide and brimming with tears. “I… I don’t understand,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “He said you were—he said you died—” “Shh. I’m here now,” Michael murmured, wrapping his arms around her. She clung to him, shaking, as if afraid he might vanish again. He held her tight, steady and real. “It’s okay. I’ll take care of everything.” When he finally turned to face the others, Michael saw Victor still trying to process what was happening. The shock had paralyzed him, but Michael had no interest in explaining. He walked right past his cousin without a glance and made for the place where his father knelt on the concrete. One of the guards stepped in to block him, baton raised. Michael didn’t hesitate for a moment as he activated Foresight. For a split second, the world shifted—detached and surreal, like watching a memory that hadn’t happened yet. He saw the guard lunge, saw the path of the baton, saw exactly where to move. Time snapped back. Michael flowed around the incoming strike, caught the man’s momentum, and kicked low. The guard stumbled uncontrollably, straight into Victor and catching him by surprise. The baton made contact with the blonde man’s side, sending a burst of electricity coursing through him. Victor cried out, spasming violently before collapsing to his knees. Michael stood over him, expression unreadable. “Feels good to be the one on the ground for once, doesn’t it?” He didn’t wait for a reply. The second guard had already moved to help his boss, clearing Michael’s path to his father. William looked up in stunned silence as his son knelt beside him. He opened his mouth to speak, but Michael shook his head. “Not now.” William nodded slowly, swallowing his questions for later. Michael helped his father to his feet, ignoring the shocked whispers rippling through the gathering crowd. They walked together to the steps in front of the house, where Ari had retreated, still wiping her eyes. She looked up, and Michael gave her a faint, reassuring nod. Then—click. The sound behind him was unmistakable. Michael turned. Victor stood shakily, his body still twitching from the electric shock, but his hand was steady. In it, a small black handgun pointed directly at Michael’s chest. “You just don’t die, do you?” Victor growled, eyes wild. “Let’s fix that.” Michael said nothing. Instead, he activated Observe. > [Name: Victor Grey] [Level: 7] [Strength: 16 | Agility: 13 | Endurance: 12 | Control: 13 | Intelligence: 10] He absorbed the data quickly. Victor was a couple of levels higher—but his stats weren’t dramatically superior. The Wargod System had clearly elevated Michael beyond his original limits. 'In a clean one-on-one, I could probably take him.' But there were still the guards to consider. 'If they jump in, this turns ugly fast. I’ll need to play this right.' Michael met Victor’s stare without blinking, showing no fear—even with the gun trained on him. “You’ve already tried to kill me once,” he said, voice low but steady. “Didn’t work out so well the first time, did it?” Victor’s hand trembled just slightly. The crowd was watching now. From neighbors in the area to strangers passing by, all of them had seen the baton hit. All of them had heard the girl cry. And now all of them were watching a man in a luxury suit threaten to shoot someone in the middle of the street. Michael smiled coldly. He didn’t need to win this fight with force. He just needed to win control.
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Chapter One Hundred and Three — What Was Taken
Michael reached the street at full speed and then stopped so abruptly that the asphalt cracked beneath his boots.The mansion was still standing, but only in the most technical sense of the word. Smoke drifted from shattered windows and scorched balconies, rolling upward in thick, uneven plumes that carried the sharp smell of ozone and burned insulation. The front gate had been torn apart, the reinforced alloy warped and melted inward as though it had been forced open by something that did not recognize resistance as a concept. The security perimeter that should have been alive with motion, drones, and targeting lights was completely dead.For a fraction of a second, Michael stood there and took it in, his mind struggling to reconcile the image in front of him with the place he had personally overseen, reinforced, and secured.He crossed the grounds in a blur, boots crunching over shattered stone and scorched grass. The first guard he found was s
Chapter One Hundred and Two — Storm at the Gate
The first sign that something was wrong was the silence.Captain Harrow had been on rotation long enough to recognize the rhythm of the mansion’s security systems. There was always a background hum to it, a layered presence of sensors, drones, perimeter scanners, and automated turrets talking to each other in tight, constant loops. Even when nothing happened, the estate felt alive. That hum vanished in a single instant, as if someone had reached out and switched the world off.Harrow barely had time to frown before the night exploded into white.A blinding flash tore across the front lawn, sharp enough to burn through his vision even through polarized lenses. The air cracked with thunder that felt too close, too intimate, and every display on his wrist, his visor, and the command tablet at his side went dead at once. He staggered, ears ringing, heart hammering, as the power grid feeding the outer defenses collapsed in a cascading failure.
Chapter One Hundred and One — The Future
Earlier that evening:The Gaines estate sat on a high ridge overlooking the Western industrial stretch of Whitewood City, far enough removed from the noise and grime that it could pretend the lower sectors did not exist. The interior reflected the same philosophy: clean lines, polished stone, restrained luxury meant to signal status without excess. Ian Gaines stood near the wide window at the far end of the study, his back to the room, pale arcs of electricity rolling lazily across his fingers as he stared out at the distant lights of the city.Orell Gaines watched his son from behind the desk, hands folded together, his expression a mixture of pride and tension. “You should not look at this as a burden,” Orell said, breaking the silence. “The Ordo Supremus does not extend this kind of trust lightly.”Ian let out a quiet, humorless breath. “That’s exactly the problem.”Orell frowned. “What do you mean?”Ian turned slightly, enough fo
Chapter One Hundred — Fear
Michael did not return to his mansion after the fight at the docks. He went straight to one of the secure L.A. relay points built into the lower levels of the Southern Sector, a place that existed for situations where distance and delay could not be afforded. His clothes were still torn and dusted with frost residue, his body aching in the dull, familiar way that came after pushing himself too hard, but he ignored all of it as the encrypted channel opened and Commander Cane’s face appeared on the screen.Cane took one look at him and frowned. “Michael, what on earth happened to you?”“I ran into someone down at the docks,” Michael replied. “I had no idea who he was, but he seemed to know me and he was very insistent on trying to take my head off.”“Was it someone from the Ordo Supremus?” Cane asked with a dark tone. “They've been strangely silent since Rose's death after all.”Michael shook his head lightly in the negative. “Not this time. The pow
Chapter Ninety Nine — The Herald
Michael did not rush the counterattack the moment he realized he could finally see what Igor was doing. He let the Yin Eye remain active on its own, the rest of his System abilities humming quietly in the background, and used a few seconds to confirm what his instincts were already telling him. The distortions were not random bursts of power thrown without a pattern. They were precise, layered, and timed, each Ruinwave forming along the same structural seams in space. Igor could bend those seams, but he could not invent new ones. That limitation mattered.He exhaled slowly and shifted his stance, grounding himself before activating Burst again, not at full output, but at a controlled level that enhanced his speed and striking power without overwhelming his balance. The moment Igor attacked, Michael moved, not reacting to the wave itself but to the tension that preceded it. His body slipped forward and to the side, skirting the edge of the distortion as it tore thr
Chapter Ninety Eight — Surprise
The air twisted again, pressure building from all sides, and Michael braced himself as the warehouse seemed to fold inward around them. He dug deep into Burst, pushing his body harder than he ever had before, and leaned into the oncoming force rather than away from it. His boots scraped across the floor, ice cracking beneath them, as he forced himself forward one step at a time.Another wave tore through the space between them, the invisible distortion bending the warehouse floor upward and slamming down with crushing force, but Michael slid out of its path at the last second, his shoulder brushing the concrete pillar instead of shattering against it. He landed hard, boots scraping, breath ragged, but he stayed upright. Igor clicked his tongue in mild annoyance and straightened, rolling his shoulders as if preparing to put real effort into the fight.“You really have the tenacity of a cockroach , don't you?” Igor said, his voice carrying clearly through the wa
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