2025-07-24 02:41:47The storm had passed, but the tension hadn't.
Ares stood in the war room - once the mayor’s private golf simulator - now stripped of opulence and remade into a resistance nerve center. The projector hummed quietly, throwing up satellite images and digital intercepts onto the peeling walls. Reyes paced nearby, tapping a stylus against a cracked tablet. Monk sat cross-legged on a crate, chewing sunflower seeds, eyes on Kara as she typed furiously.
Across the room, Mira leaned against a window, arms folded. The city outside was beginning to buzz - markets reopened, sirens silent, children laughing again. But behind that laughter was unease. Everyone felt it. Even the kids knew.
Something darker was coming.
“Alright,” Kara said, breaking the silence. “That signal we traced from Victor’s channel? I decrypted the last packet.”
Ares turned toward her.
She tapped the screen. A satellite image zoomed in - a snowy compound nestled at the base of jagged cliffs near the Eastern Bloc.
“He's calling it Haven Black,” she said. “Old experimental facility, shut down after the Armistice Accords. But it looks active again. Multiple heat signatures. Drone activity. And... this.”
She pulled up a blurry but chilling image.
A capsule. Metallic. Suspended in hydraulic brackets. Symbols carved into the alloy - some military, some not.
Reyes stepped forward. “What the hell is that?”
Kara’s voice lowered. “Biogenics. There’s chatter across darknet threads... whispers about a next-gen warfare project called Project Lazarus. Some say it was banned before it ever launched. Others say it never stopped. That it just went underground.”
Ares didn’t flinch. “Victor’s planning something bigger than we imagined.”
Monk spat a seed onto the floor. “Man just can’t take an ass-whooping like a grown-up, huh?”
“Pride’s never enough for men like him,” Mira murmured. “He needs control. Worship. The illusion of immortality.”
Kara nodded. “I’m still digging, but whatever that capsule is - it’s the centerpiece.”
Reyes frowned. “And the woman he met with...?”
“Still no ID. Facial rec failed. Her burns confuse the algorithm. But she’s high-clearance. Possibly former military intelligence or black ops. And she’s not operating under Victor. He’s answering to her.”
A heavy silence settled.
Ares stepped forward, the room parting around him like gravity bent in his wake.
“Then we move first,” he said. “We end it before it begins.”
...
At dawn, Ares stood by an armored jeep, checking his gear. The air smelled of damp concrete and gun oil. Across the yard, a handful of soldiers - handpicked - prepared to deploy. Among them were Reyes, Monk, Kara, and two snipers Mira had trained herself.
Mira walked up, her face unreadable.
“You’re going after Victor alone.”
Ares didn’t deny it.
She stood still, gaze locked on his. “Why?”
“Because he knows me. He’ll expect noise. A unit. A show of force. But if I walk into Haven Black with a blade and my name, he won’t run. He’ll want to prove he’s better.”
Mira’s lips parted, hurt flickering behind her eyes. “And if he is?”
Ares touched her cheek. “Then let him try.”
She reached into her coat and pulled out a small object - a curved pendant, worn and old. She pressed it into his palm.
“It was my brother’s. Before the war took him. He believed justice wasn’t about the fight. It was about not forgetting why you started it.”
Ares closed his fingers around it. “I haven’t forgotten.”
She stepped closer, their foreheads touching.
“Come back to me,” she whispered.
“I always do,” he said.
...
Three hours later, the wind howled across the frozen ravine where Haven Black crouched like a beast in the snow.
Ares lay prone on the edge of a cliff, binoculars pressed to his eyes. Motion sensors. Automated turrets. Aerial drones. But beneath all the tech, the foundation was old - ventilation shafts, hidden maintenance tunnels. He’d studied enough military installations in his lifetime to know their weaknesses.
He took a breath.
And he dropped over the side.
...
Inside Haven Black, the woman with the burned face - codename: Lysandra - walked slowly through the capsule chamber. Her eyes weren’t on the machines. They were on the files spread out before her. Psychological profiles. DNA strands. Combat simulations.
Victor entered, wiping grease from his hands.
“Final sequence is loaded,” he said. “We’ll be ready by dawn.”
Lysandra didn’t look up. “And your lion?”
Victor sneered. “Still roaring, I assume.”
She finally met his gaze. “Roaring isn’t the same as winning.”
He stiffened. “He’s one man.”
“And you still fear him.”
Victor’s voice dropped. “He’s unfinished business. An echo of a world that didn’t deserve him.”
Lysandra tilted her head. “Then end the echo.”
Alarms suddenly blared.
Red lights bathed the chamber.
Victor turned sharply. “What now?!”
A guard’s voice crackled through the comms. “Breach detected. South tunnel compromised. Single target.”
Lysandra’s eyes gleamed.
Victor’s face paled.
“No,” he muttered. “He wouldn’t - he couldn’t - ”
“He did,” Lysandra said coolly. “The lion walks.”
...
Inside the dark underbelly of the fortress, Ares moved like a ghost - silent, precise. He dispatched two guards with a baton strike and a knife to the throat. He disabled cameras, slipped past biometric gates using tools Reyes had custom-made.
Then he reached the heart.
The chamber.
He paused before the door, breath steady, mind still. Then he pushed it open.
Victor turned.
Ares stepped in.
No words.
No theatrics.
Just two men. One forged by war. One broken by ambition.
Victor’s voice was a growl. “You should’ve died in Fallujah.”
“You should’ve stayed buried in your lies,” Ares replied.
Lysandra watched them, amused. “How poetic.”
Ares’s eyes flicked to her. “You’re the architect.”
She smiled. “I’m the future.”
He stared at the capsule. “You’re playing with things you don’t understand.”
“I understand perfectly. Humanity evolves - or dies. That capsule holds the answer to every weakness you cling to: grief, memory, pain.”
Ares’s voice was steel. “Those aren’t weaknesses. They’re the price of being human.”
Victor lunged first - rage in his fists, betrayal in his veins.
But Ares was faster.
Their clash was brutal. Raw. No elegance. Just survival.
Victor landed a blow that split Ares’s lip.
Ares countered with an elbow that shattered Victor’s nose.
They moved like two storms meeting - destroying everything in their path.
Lysandra reached for the activation panel.
But Ares, even mid-battle, saw her.
He hurled a blade.
It struck the console, sparks flying.
The capsule hissed, stalled.
“No!” Lysandra screamed.
Victor swung wide, desperate - but Ares caught him mid-motion, locked his arms, and drove him into the wall.
He whispered into Victor’s bleeding ear.
“You lost the moment you stopped bleeding for others.”
Then he let him fall.
Unconscious.
Defeated.
Lysandra backed away, furious.
“You think you’ve won? This was only a seed!”
Ares turned toward her.
“I’ve uprooted worse.”
...
Minutes later, as the fortress burned from explosive charges Reyes had rigged remotely, Ares emerged into the snow, dragging Victor’s unconscious body.
A chopper hovered above, Mira leaning out.
Their eyes met.
She smiled.
He nodded.
...
From Lin Square to the Eastern Bloc, word would spread.
The lion hadn’t just roared.
He had hunted in the dark.
And come home with the truth in his hands.
...
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
