2025-07-22 19:27:58The photograph trembled slightly in Ares’s hand - not from weakness, but from the storm building inside him. The warehouse around him echoed with the hum of silence. A single light swung above, casting a slow arc of shadow across his face.
He folded the picture gently, then slid it into the inner lining of his coat.
Outside, the wind howled.
Ares stood.
No more waiting.
...
The next morning, Mira stepped into the war room beneath the city -Hawk’s repurposed metro tunnel. Her face was drawn, her eyes tired but fierce.
“He’s gone,” she said.
Hawk looked up from a cracked monitor. “Left before dawn. No one saw where.”
She nodded slowly. “He does that. Vanishes when it’s hardest.”
“Where would he go?” Hawk asked.
She looked at the map on the wall—lines crisscrossing in red ink like veins.
“Fallujah,” she whispered.
Hawk raised a brow. “That’s a ghost we don’t touch.”
“They’re going to use something from there,” she said. “Ares thinks no one knows. But someone kept the tapes.”
Hawk leaned back, the chair creaking. “If they show that footage, it could burn everything. His allies… you…”
“I don’t care what they show,” Mira cut in. “I need to find him.”
Hawk looked at her carefully. “What if he doesn’t want to be found?”
Mira met his gaze. “Then I’ll remind him who he is.”
...
Two time zones away, in a private airstrip just outside Ankara, Turkey, a black jet taxied to a halt. The door opened, and Ares stepped onto the tarmac.
He wore no uniform. Just a plain black jacket, boots, and a thousand-yard stare.
A bearded man in military khakis approached.
“Ares Kane,” the man said. “Didn’t think you’d come back here.”
“I need access to the old NATO archive,” Ares replied.
The man grunted. “Even ghosts have passwords.”
Ares reached into his pocket and handed over a small chip. “This unlocks a vault that never existed.”
The man looked at the chip, then at Ares. “You sure about this? Some things should stay buried.”
“I’m not here for closure,” Ares said. “I’m here for truth.”
...
Back in Lin City, Victor Wu stood in a towering skyscraper, watching the steel yard through a digital feed. The mobile base was nearly complete. Men trained like machines. Trucks moved with military precision.
The man in the pinstriped suit stood beside him.
“He’s in Turkey,” Victor said. “We intercepted the plane manifest. He’s going after the source.”
“Let him dig,” the man replied. “He’ll only find more reasons to destroy himself.”
Victor’s jaw tensed. “You’re confident she’ll break.”
The man smirked. “Everyone breaks. Especially the ones who love too much.”
Victor turned to him. “What if she doesn’t?”
“Then we kill her,” the man said coldly.
Victor’s hand froze on the glass.
He didn’t respond.
...
Inside a fortified NATO archive buried under Ankara’s western ridge, Ares moved like a shadow through the cold corridors. Dust clung to every surface. Most of the facility had been shut down after the incident.
But some doors were never locked. Only forgotten.
He entered a chamber labeled Echo Vault.
Rows of hard drives lined the walls.
He went to shelf 18-B.
Pulled the one marked Op-FALLUJAH-413.
He stared at it for a long time.
When he finally plugged it in, the screen flickered to life.
...
Static.
Gunfire.
A dusty street. Civilians running. Screams.
Then -
Ares.
Younger. Fiercer. Bleeding. Holding a wounded boy in one arm, a rifle in the other.
Behind him, flames devoured buildings.
From the left, a figure appeared -enemy combatant, weapon raised.
Ares turned, shielded the child -
And shot.
The figure crumpled.
But when the smoke cleared, the body wasn’t a soldier.
It was a woman.
Holding only a radio.
Ares froze on the screen. His younger self dropped to his knees, whispering something inaudible.
The footage ended there.
...
The silence in the room pressed down like a grave.
Ares stared at the screen.
This was the moment they wanted Mira to see.
The one they thought would break her.
He closed his eyes.
And remembered.
Not just the shot.
But the scream.
The way the boy clutched his leg, weeping. The way Ares had buried the body with his own hands, refusing to let the others touch her.
She had been a civilian messenger. Not a threat.
But the airstrike she was calling in would have killed them all.
There had been no clean choice.
Only blood.
...
At that same hour, in Lin City, Mira sat alone on a rooftop, staring at the sky. She hadn’t heard from Ares in over 24 hours.
She held her phone in one hand, debating whether to call.
Then it rang.
Blocked number.
She answered.
“Mira,” Ares’s voice came through, low and raw.
“You’re alive,” she breathed.
“There’s something you need to see,” he said.
“I already know,” she replied quietly. “Fallujah.”
He was silent.
“I heard the whispers,” she continued. “Hawk told me. They’re going to leak footage. Make me turn on you.”
“I won’t let that happen,” he said.
“You don’t control what I believe,” she said firmly.
Another pause.
“You think it will change how I see you?” she asked. “Because it won’t. Not unless you keep hiding from it.”
He didn’t answer.
“You saved a boy that day,” she whispered. “That’s what I choose to remember.”
Ares closed his eyes. “They want to use that pain. Weaponize it.”
“Then don’t let them,” she said. “Come home. We fight this together.”
...
By nightfall, Ares was back on the jet.
The hard drive was secured in a black case.
As the engines roared to life, he made a call.
“Hawk,” he said. “Prepare the broadcast network.”
“You’re going public?” Hawk asked.
“Yes,” Ares replied. “We’re taking the fight to them.”
...
The next morning, every screen across Lin City lit up.
News stations scrambled to intercept the signal.
But it wasn’t a leak.
It was a confession.
Ares Kane appeared on screen - face hard, voice steady.
“My name is Ares Kane. Years ago, in Fallujah, I made a choice that still haunts me. I killed a civilian.”
The footage played - unedited.
He let the world see his face in that moment.
Then it cut back to him.
“She wasn’t holding a gun. But the strike she called in would have killed fifty people - including a boy I promised to protect. I made the call. I live with it.”
He paused.
“But this isn’t about redemption. It’s about truth. And the truth is - the men behind that war are the same men pulling the strings now. Victor Wu. Zhao Conglomerate. They bury their sins beneath blood and gold.”
His eyes burned.
“No more.
Victor Wu stared at the screen, pale with rage.
The man beside him stood silent.
“He turned the weapon into a shield,” Victor growled.
“No,” the man said. “He turned it into fire.”
...
Across Lin City, people watched the broadcast in stunned silence.
In bars.
In bunkers.
In living rooms.
In alleyways.
And in Mira’s eyes, tears brimmed -not of grief.
But pride.
Ares had taken the thing meant to destroy him -
And used it to light the path forward.
The lion had not just woken.
He had roared.
...
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
