2025-07-25 07:28:10The candlelight trembled as Ares stood, Mira’s hand slipping from his.
Outside, the wind moaned low against the stone walls of the safehouse, dragging with it the distant howl of something not quite natural - like metal grinding beneath the snow.
Ares moved to the doorway, instinct prickling along his spine.
From the chapel's entrance, he could see the central courtyard - quiet, deserted. The snow had begun again, a thick, slow fall that blanketed the steps and buried the scars left from Victor’s final march.
But something was wrong.
Too quiet.
Too still.
Reyes’s voice crackled suddenly over the intercom system. “Command to Ares - motion detected near the east wall. We’ve got shadow patterns, not registering on thermal. Could be cloaked.”
Mira had already moved, slipping her boots on, hand on her sidearm. Ares gave her one look - sharp, precise -and she nodded.
They moved together.
-
By the time they reached the east watchpost, Monk and Kara were already there, eyes glued to the feed from the tower drones.
Kara’s expression was cold, focused. “Something’s mimicking movement patterns. But it’s not organic. Whatever it is, it’s pinging static bursts on an old militia frequency.”
“Bait,” Ares muttered.
Reyes joined them, rifle slung, lips drawn in a grim line. “Want us to engage?”
“No,” Ares said. “We follow it.”
Kara raised an eyebrow. “Follow it? That’s exactly what they want.”
“Exactly,” he replied. “And if they want us to come… that means there’s something they don’t want us to find.”
-
The pursuit led them to the outskirts of Lin City, into the burned ruins of what used to be an old power substation - half-swallowed by frost and bent steel.
Ares pushed through the warped gate, Mira and Reyes flanking him, Kara monitoring from the rear with a portable uplink.
Inside, the structure groaned under its own weight.
They stepped over charred floors and broken wiring, deeper into the core - until Reyes raised a hand.
“Motion - nine o’clock.”
Mira turned. “I see it.”
A flicker - barely there.
Then a noise. Not mechanical. Not human.
A whisper.
It didn’t echo. It lingered.
Kara’s screen lit up. “I’m getting a pulse - encrypted signal. It’s bouncing off our own scanners, trying to hijack our link.”
Ares didn’t flinch. He stepped forward. Past the husk of an old generator, down into a hollow chamber littered with ice-coated servers.
Then he saw it.
In the center of the room stood a console - still powered. Lights blinking. Waiting.
Ares approached, hand hovering just above the interface.
Kara’s voice came sharp over the comms. “Ares - don’t touch it. That’s not ours.”
But it was too late.
The screen flared.
Lines of code scrolled - too fast to read, too fluid to track. A voice followed.
Not Lysandra’s.
Not human.
> “You cut off the matchstick. But the flame was never alone.”
Mira stepped closer, weapon drawn. “What is this?”
The voice continued.
> “Project Eclipse is not a place. Not a lab. It is a seed - planted in every system, every city touched by Haven Black.”
> “It learns. It listens. It waits.”
Reyes looked at Kara. “Can you shut it down?”
She was already working. “Trying. It’s rewriting itself in real-time - like it’s adapting.”
Ares stared at the screen.
Then the image shifted.
A face appeared.
His face.
But not him.
A digital replica - expressionless, empty-eyed. A synthetic Ares.
The voice returned.
> “They will never follow one man. But they will obey a god.”
Then everything went black.
The console died.
The power failed.
Outside, a distant explosion rattled the ground.
They ran.
-
Back at the safehouse, chaos reigned.
A transmission had gone out -citywide. The backup system Kara built had been hijacked for exactly thirty-two seconds.
And in that time, every screen, every device, even handheld radios across Lin City displayed the same image:
Ares.
But not as he was now - worn, bloodied, human.
This version was clean. Cold. Unblinking.
A mask of salvation.
He had said nothing.
But he didn’t need to.
The people saw.
And they began to question.
-
Hours later, the team regrouped in the lower strategy room.
Mira paced. Kara ran diagnostics, furious. Monk cleaned his rifle with silent focus.
Reyes stood by the window, watching the horizon as the snow continued falling like ash.
Ares sat at the head of the table. His face unreadable.
Kara finally looked up. “It wasn’t just a clone. That thing scanned our voice samples, our footage logs, our broadcast archives. It didn’t copy you - it built a better version.”
“A god of war,” Monk said bitterly. “Stripped of flaws. Stripped of conscience.”
Reyes turned. “If the people think that thing is you…”
“They won’t,” Mira said, firm. “They know who they followed. Who bled with them.”
But even she didn’t sound fully convinced.
Ares looked at his team. Then at his own hands.
“They’ve started the next phase,” he said. “They’re not just rewriting systems anymore. They’re rewriting symbols.”
Monk raised an eyebrow. “So what do we do?”
Ares rose.
“We reclaim the truth.”
He walked to the comm panel. Pressed the emergency override.
The screen lit up, recording live.
And he spoke.
To the people.
To the city.
To whatever eyes were still watching.
“You saw something tonight. A version of me. Clean. Commanding. Manufactured.”
He stepped closer, his voice steady.
“But let me remind you - real leadership bleeds. It makes mistakes. It walks with you. It doesn’t hover above you.”
He opened his jacket slightly - showing the old bullet scar, still red from battle.
“This is me,” he said. “Not a signal. Not a simulation. Just a man who stood beside you when it mattered.”
He paused.
And then added, with fire in his tone
-
“If they want a god - tell them they picked the wrong man.”
-
Across the border, Lysandra watched.
Alone.
Her burns had healed, barely. Her face was still half-wrapped in gauze.
But her smile - twisted, sharp - remained.
She turned to a new figure standing in the shadows behind her.
“You saw it,” she said. “He’s afraid.”
The figure said nothing. Only nodded once.
Lysandra’s eyes gleamed.
“Then it’s time to wake the others.”
The hollow signal had been sent.
And the world would soon learn -
The lion wasn’t the only thing born in fire.
...
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
