2025-07-25 08:30:16The alarms howled like a waking beast - shrill, pulsing, alive.
Red lights strobed overhead as the corridor flared with motion. Mechanical clanks echoed from behind the walls, as if the building itself had started to breathe.
Ares instinctively stepped in front of the girl, shielding Mira and the rest of the team. But the child didn’t flinch. She just looked up at him with strange, steady eyes.
Then she said it again - softer this time, as if testing the shape of it.
“Welcome home… Eron.”
Ares froze.
Mira turned sharply, eyes narrowing. “What did she just call you?”
Ares didn’t answer.
Couldn’t.
That name - Eron - he hadn’t heard it in decades. It had been erased, buried in the fires of Fallujah, lost in files that no longer existed. No one alive should have known it.
Unless someone had been watching since before all of this began.
The girl blinked. “You don’t remember me. But I remember you.”
Reyes moved forward, raising his rifle. “Back up, kid.”
“No,” Ares said, arm outstretched. “Don’t shoot.”
He crouched slowly, his voice calm. “Who are you?”
The girl tilted her head. “I’m the part you left behind. I’m what they grew from your shadow.”
Behind her, a door hissed open.
Beyond it - nothing.
Not light. Not machinery. Just darkness.
Like a void carved into the world.
Kara checked her wrist pad. “The signal's inside that room. It’s pulsing in synch with her heartbeat.”
Monk grunted. “What the hell does that mean?”
Mira stepped closer, her voice low. “They’re not using tech anymore. They’re using life.”
The girl smiled at her, gently. “You’re afraid. You think he’ll disappear. But he already did… a long time ago.”
Ares stood.
And for a brief second, he saw himself in her eyes.
Not the man he was.
Not the soldier.
But the boy who ran from fire - who became a ghost long before the world called him one.
The alarms stopped.
All at once.
No fading.
Just silence.
And then the voice returned.
Not the girl’s.
Not Lysandra’s.
But something deeper.
Older.
“You’ve returned to the root, Eron Vale.”
Ares inhaled sharply.
No one else had ever said the full name. Not even Mira. Not even during the darkest debriefings.
The voice continued.
“They thought you could be controlled. Rebuilt. Redeemed. But the flaw in every god is the man beneath.”
The walls shuddered. The lights dimmed.
Reyes whispered, “We’re pulling out. This place isn’t just data - it’s memory. Weaponized.”
“No,” Ares said. “This is what we came for.”
He stepped past the girl, into the room.
Mira started to follow, but he held up a hand.
“Just me.”
She hesitated. “You don’t have to do this alone.”
“I do,” he said. “Because this started with me.”
And then he crossed the threshold.
...
The door closed behind him.
And silence fell again.
Total.
The chamber was spherical - walls seamless and pulsing faintly, like the inside of a lung. Ares stepped forward, boots echoing softly.
In the center of the room: a chair.
Simple. Old.
Wooden.
And resting on the seat - an object wrapped in cloth.
Ares approached and removed the fabric.
A photograph.
Frayed at the edges.
His mother.
Younger than he remembered. Smiling. Holding a boy no older than six - him, before the fire, before the camps, before the uniform.
He hadn’t seen this photo in over twenty years.
It had burned with everything else.
He turned the photo over.
On the back, in delicate handwriting:
“Don’t forget who you were, no matter who they make you become.”
Ares exhaled shakily.
Then he heard it.
Footsteps.
He spun -
And there, standing in the corner, was himself.
But not synthetic.
Not polished.
Just… younger.
The version of him that had once believed peace was possible.
That believed in orders.
That believed in the mission.
“You came back,” the young Ares said.
The older one didn’t speak.
Because what do you say to the man you used to be?
“You think they turned me into a weapon,” the younger one said, stepping closer. “But the truth is - you handed them the blade.”
Ares clenched his fists. “I didn’t have a choice.”
“You did,” the younger self snapped. “And you made it. Every innocent you stepped over. Every lie you swallowed. You made me.”
Ares’s jaw tightened. “You think I don’t live with that?”
“I think you’ve forgotten what we started for,” the younger said. “You buried the boy so deep, you forgot he existed. But they didn’t. They found him. And they used him to build something worse.”
The walls pulsed - brighter now.
The heartbeat of the building speeding up.
“They don’t want to kill you,” the younger Ares said. “They want to replace you with the part of you that never broke.”
“And what if that part needed to break?” Ares growled. “What if that’s what made me human again?”
The younger one went silent.
Then slowly - faded.
Vanished like breath in frost.
And Ares was alone again.
Only now, the door behind him had reopened.
And the child stood there, waiting.
She held something in her hands - a pendant.
Mira’s.
The one Ares thought she’d lost during the broadcast sabotage.
“How did you get that?” he asked.
She held it out. “She dropped it. When she came through.”
Ares stepped forward, snatching it gently from her hand.
“You’ve seen Mira?”
She nodded. “She didn’t scream.”
“What did they do to her?”
The girl shrugged. “They asked her the same thing they’ll ask you.”
Ares stared at her.
“What’s the question?”
The girl smiled.
And whispered -
“What are you willing to forget… in order to win?”
...
He returned to the team pale, shaking - but standing.
Mira ran to him. He handed her the pendant, placing it gently in her hand.
“Don’t ever take that off again,” he said.
She blinked, stunned. “Where did you find it?”
He looked back at the building.
And for the first time, there was no fear in his eyes.
Only fire.
“They wanted to make gods,” he said.
“But they forgot something.”
Reyes raised an eyebrow. “What’s that?”
Ares turned back toward the others, voice like steel.
“Even gods bleed.”
...
Far across the mountains, Lysandra watched the feed go dark.
The girl in the footage - the messenger - had been triggered.
Phase Two was now live.
She turned to her aide.
“Prep the convergence beacons. Release the next wave.”
The aide swallowed. “And if he reaches the core?”
Lysandra’s eyes narrowed.
“Then we remind him - gods may bleed. But men? They break.”
...
Previous Chapter
Latest Chapter
ASH IN THE VEINS
The steel slab still stood at the western ridgeline when Ares returned at midday. The sun was higher now, carving the message deeper into the scorched metal with every flicker of heat. He didn’t touch it. Didn’t have to. The words were burned behind his eyes.We are not your past. We are your consequence.He stood there a moment longer, wind tugging at the collar of his coat, the dry scent of dust and burnt wire rising from the earth. Reyes approached from behind, silent, until the crunch of his boots gave him away.“They’re not just warning us,” he said. “They’re staging something. Making a show of memory.”Ares nodded slowly. “And calling it justice.”Reyes looked out toward the hills. “You think it’s just Vale?”“No.” Ares didn’t blink. “I think it’s what Vale left behind. A creed. A code. A wound still bleeding after all this time.”Reyes crossed his arms. “I’ve buried too many men to be haunted by ghosts.”Ares looked at him. “Then start digging again. Because this war... it didn
THOSE WHO REMEMBER
Because now, they had something worth defending.And for Ares Kai - the man who once lived only to destroy - that made him more dangerous than ever.The rooftop wind brushed over him, sharp with the chill of dusk but filled with the scent of food cooking in shared courtyards and the murmur of distant laughter. It was the kind of night that made a man forget, if only for a moment, how much blood had stained his past.But forgetting wasn’t an option.Mira stood at his side in silence. Her hand had long since slipped from his, but her presence hadn’t. She leaned against the railing, watching the city breathe. Her eyes were calm, but her voice, when it came, held a quiet weight.“Do you think they’ll come here? The ones watching?”He didn’t answer right away.Then, “Not yet. But they’ve taken notice.”She tilted her head. “Of you?”“No,” he said. “Of us.”Mira glanced back at the glowing blocks of Lin City - at the rebuilt shelters, the lights flickering in the old Assembly Hall, the hum
THE WEIGHT OF STILLNESS
Ares didn’t move.He sat by Elijah’s bedside long after the boy had turned back into sleep, his small hands tucked beneath his cheek, his breaths soft and untroubled. The notebook lay closed beside them - those sketches still etched into Ares’ mind.That last drawing... the three of them standing beneath a sun not yet drawn. No smoke. No sirens. No shadows clawing at the edge of their peace. Just presence.Ares leaned forward, elbows braced on his knees, his head buried in his hands. His back ached from old wounds. His fingers were calloused from war. But none of that compared to the pressure behind his ribs now - the unfamiliar weight of not having to fight.Outside, the windowpane rattled gently in the breeze. There was no storm tonight. No cries. No coded transmissions. Just wind brushing across the roof and the distant clatter of tools as the early workers began their shifts.Mira’s door was still ajar across the hall, warm light spilling through the gap. He could have gone to her
EMBERS AND ROOTS
Mira didn’t move for a long time.She sat cross-legged on the floor, her arms resting on her knees, eyes fixed on the sleeping boy and the man beside him. The only sound was the low hum of the generator outside and the steady breath of a child who finally, finally, had no reason to be afraid.Ares didn’t speak either. He leaned back against the wall, knees bent, one hand resting protectively near Elijah’s shoulder, the other slack on his thigh. Every now and then, his eyes flickered open - checking, listening - but the tension he used to wear like armor had softened into something else.Stillness.Not weakness. Not surrender.Just the absence of running.Mira eventually pushed herself up, bones stiff, and moved to sit beside Ares. He shifted slightly, making room, careful not to wake the boy.They didn’t touch - not yet. But their shoulders were close enough to share warmth.“You should sleep too,” she murmured.“I will,” Ares said. “Just... not yet.”She nodded.A long breath passed
THE PROMISE OF STAYING
The Assembly Hall was quiet the next morning.Not silent - there were distant boots on tile, quiet murmurs of volunteers laying cables and pinning up maps -but the kind of quiet that came after storms. The kind you earned. Ares stood near the north-facing window, watching as the mist lifted off the shattered rooftops of Lin City.Behind him, Elijah tugged at his sleeve.“Is this where they argue?” he asked.Ares smirked. “Sometimes. Mostly, they try to listen.”Elijah nodded solemnly, like that was harder.The boy wore a scarf too big for him and boots slightly too worn. His hair still stuck up in wild tufts from sleep, and he held The Little Prince under one arm like it was a secret weapon. Ares rested a steady hand on his son’s back as they stepped inside.Some of the council members were already seated. Kara gave a quick wave. The woman from the South End was bouncing her baby with one hand and flipping through ration figures with the other. Hawk stood by the coffee dispenser, pour
THE WEIGHT OF PEACE
The Assembly Hall was quiet the next morning.Not silent - there were distant boots on tile, quiet murmurs of volunteers laying cables and pinning up maps - but the kind of quiet that came after storms. The kind you earned. Ares stood near the north-facing window, watching as the mist lifted off the shattered rooftops of Lin City.Behind him, Elijah tugged at his sleeve.“Is this where they argue?” he asked.Ares smirked. “Sometimes. Mostly, they try to listen.”Elijah nodded solemnly, like that was harder.The boy wore a scarf too big for him and boots slightly too worn. His hair still stuck up in wild tufts from sleep, and he held The Little Prince under one arm like it was a secret weapon. Ares rested a steady hand on his son’s back as they stepped inside.Some of the council members were already seated. Kara gave a quick wave. The woman from the South End was bouncing her baby with one hand and flipping through ration figures with the other. Hawk stood by the coffee dispenser, pou
