2025-10-24 16:31:50Snow powdered the Strattons’ mansion like sugar on marble. Landon stood at the iron gate, clutching the divorce papers Emily had insisted he sign “in person.”
He could have mailed them, but something in him wanted to see their faces, one last time, before he disappeared from their world for good.
The gate buzzed open. He walked up the long drive, boots crunching over frozen gravel. The house glittered with warm light, all glass and stone and quiet arrogance.
Harold Stratton himself opened the door, immaculate as ever in a navy sweater and loafers. “Ah, the prodigal son-in-law,” he said dryly. “Try not to drip on the rug.”
Landon wiped his feet deliberately, meeting the man’s eyes. “Wouldn’t want to stain perfection.”
Harold’s jaw tightened. “Come in.”
Inside, everything gleamed, crystal chandeliers, a fire glowing behind glass, the smell of expensive wine.
Emily sat on the couch, pale blue dress, hands folded like she was attending a funeral. Todd lounged beside her, smug in his designer jacket.
“Let’s make this quick,” Harold said. “We have guests arriving in half an hour.”
Landon dropped the envelope on the coffee table. “All you need to do is sign.”
Harold didn’t move. “Not yet. We have conditions.”
“Conditions?” Landon’s voice was flat.
Emily looked away. “Dad, please, ”
“No, Emily,” Harold snapped. “He deserves to know the price of failure.” He turned back to Landon. “You’ll sign a nondisclosure agreement. You’ll make no claim on family assets, no mention of our name in public, and you’ll vacate the apartment by Friday.”
Todd grinned. “And maybe try getting a job that doesn’t involve begging.”
Landon smiled faintly. “Still jealous of my last one?”
Todd’s smirk faltered. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me,” Landon said quietly. “Funny thing about the world, one day you’re on top, the next you’re asking favors from the guy you mocked.”
Harold laughed, sharp and cold. “Are you threatening us?”
“No,” Landon said. “Just observing.”
Emily stood suddenly. “Stop it! Both of you. Let’s just sign and move on.”
He looked at her then, really looked. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her hands trembling. Maybe she’d loved him once.
Maybe not. Either way, she was part of the old life he was leaving behind. He picked up a pen, flipped the papers open, and froze.
Every word on the page glowed faintly. He blinked. The glow sharpened into whispers, debt clauses, hidden conditions, false signatures.
His mind translated each one instantly, the meanings unfolding in layers. They were trying to trap him legally, claim he’d breached a prenuptial agreement that never existed.
Landon looked up slowly. “You forged this.”
Harold stiffened. “Excuse me?”
“You added two paragraphs at the end,” Landon said. “Clause 14-B, transfer of apartment lease, and 14-C, waiver of legal contestation rights. You tried to bury them in fine print.”
Harold’s face drained of color. “How could you possibly, ”
Todd barked a laugh. “Oh come on, he can barely pay rent, you think he knows legal, ”
Landon cut him off. “I know because I can read faster than you can blink.”
Something flickered behind his eyes, a brief, electric shimmer. The chandelier’s crystals trembled. Emily whispered, “Landon… what’s happening?”
He set the pen down gently. “What’s happening is I’m done being your punching bag.”
Harold recovered enough to sneer. “Or what? You’ll glower at us until we apologize?”
Landon leaned forward, voice low and calm. “Careful, Harold. You wouldn’t want to say something you’ll regret.”
“Get out,” Harold snapped.
But Landon didn’t move. He could feel their thoughts now, buzzing around the room like hornets. “He’s bluffing. If he signs, we’re rid of him for good. Emily looks scared. Good. She should learn.”
He smiled slowly. “You think this is still your house, your rules. But the funny thing about rules, they only matter when people believe in them.”
Todd scoffed. “Oh, you’ve been reading self-help books now?”
“No.” Landon’s gaze pinned him. “I’ve been remembering.”
He reached for the papers again, and with a casual flick of his hand, the ink bled off the page, the text dissolving into blank whiteness. The air smelled faintly of ozone.
Emily gasped. Todd stumbled back, knocking over a glass. “What the, what did you do?”
Landon stood. “I erased your lies. Seems fair, doesn’t it?”
Harold’s face turned red. “You, you vandalized legal documents! I’ll have you arrested!”
Landon chuckled. “You can’t arrest what you can’t explain.”
For a heartbeat, silence filled the room, heavy, electric. Then he turned to Emily. “You wanted me to sign away my dignity. Congratulations. You just freed me instead.”
She looked at him, tears brimming. “Landon, I didn’t know, Dad said.”
“I know what he said,” Landon interrupted softly. “And someday, you’ll wonder why you believed him.”
He walked toward the door, every step echoing like thunder. Todd lunged forward. “You think you can just walk away?”
Landon paused. “Try to stop me.”
Todd’s hand shot out, but before he could touch him, a crack of air burst between them, tossing Todd back against the wall. He hit the floor, gasping, eyes wide with shock.
Emily screamed. Harold stumbled backward, crossing himself. “What are you?”
Landon looked over his shoulder, expression unreadable. “Something you should’ve never underestimated.”
He stepped into the cold night and closed the door behind him. The wind howled across the Stratton lawn, carrying the faint scent of ozone and fear.
The moment he reached the gate, his phone pulsed again. “Integration: 31%. Emotional equilibrium achieved. Next sequence pending.”
He stared at the screen, breathing hard. His hands trembled, not from weakness, but from energy thrumming under his skin.
Behind him, he heard shouting inside the mansion. He didn’t turn back. A taxi slowed on the road. The driver leaned out. “Need a lift, buddy?”
Landon nodded and slid in. “Downtown.”
The driver glanced at him in the mirror. “Rough night?”
Landon exhaled slowly. “Actually… it’s the best I’ve had in years.”
As the city lights streaked past the window, he caught his reflection, eyes faintly glowing, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips.
Whatever the Ascension Protocol was, it had chosen the right man, and for the first time, the son-in-law everyone mocked was no longer a victim. He was the storm coming for them all.
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Chapter 136: Counter-Foresight
The night air in Chicago carried a metallic tang, thick with smoke from overturned cars and scorched concrete. Streetlights flickered, struggling against the chaos that had erupted across the south side. Somewhere nearby, a relic-powered gang skirmished with the Iron Order. Their shouts echoed through alleyways, followed by bursts of energy that made windows shiver in their frames. Landon Hale moved quietly, feet sliding over debris, eyes scanning, Kinetic Echo alive yet twitching like a nervous muscle. Something was off.“They’re suppressing me,” Landon muttered, his voice low, almost swallowed by the urban roar. His hands twitched as if feeling shapes in the air that weren’t there. His Echo, the sixth sense he relied on for anticipating attacks, seeing three, sometimes four moves ahead, was flaring in fragmented bursts. Shadows of the future appeared in slivers, blurred and incomplete. He couldn’t fully predict the enemy’s motion.“Predictive suppression fields,” Jin’s voice ca
Chapter 135. Relic War in the Streets
The night in Chicago’s south side was thick with smoke and neon haze. Fires burned in overturned cars. Broken windows reflected the light of flames and flashing holograms from nearby advertising towers. The smell of ozone and gunpowder filled the air. Somewhere, a siren wailed, distant but insistent.Landon crouched behind a concrete barricade at the edge of the alley. His boots were caked with ash. Every step he had taken since entering the south side had been careful, deliberate. His Kinetic Echo hummed faintly, like a tuning fork in the back of his mind, trying to predict what would come next. But tonight, the Echo was restless. The patterns it usually read, the flow of movements, the trajectory of attacks, were broken, jagged, unpredictable.Claire’s voice came through the comm in a low, controlled tone. “Positions. South side grid compromised. Multiple targets moving north along Division Street. Gang is relic-powered. Iron Order is inbound. Avoid direct engagement until I mark
Chapter 134. Fractures in the World Order
The room was dark except for the soft glow of multiple holo-screens. Landon stood at the center, arms crossed, eyes scanning the live feeds from Chicago, Berlin, and Toronto. Each window showed activity that made him tighten his jaw. Holo-maps flickered with red dots moving across cities, representing Iron Order units. Some units moved openly through streets. Others stayed in shadows, like predators circling before a strike.Claire leaned over a table, tracing patterns with her finger. “They’re not hiding anymore,” she said. Her voice was low, precise. “They’ve gone public in multiple cities at once. And governments are letting them.”Landon didn’t reply immediately. He tilted his head, watching Chicago’s shipping docks on one screen. Black-uniformed patrols intercepted a rogue cult without hesitation. The cameras showed civilians freezing, staring as if the world had shifted beneath them. No chaos. No hesitation. Just a clean, surgical elimination.“Look at this,” Priya said, tapp
Chapter 133. The Ghost General
The room smelled of stale coffee and ozone. Screens lined the walls, each flickering with data, city maps, and streams of energy signatures. The Vanguard had been awake for hours, poring over every anomaly Priya had found in Chicago’s networks. The lights hummed low, giving the space an uneasy tension. Landon stood in the center, shoulders tense, watching the monitors reflect across his face.Priya’s fingers moved across a holo-table, pulling up fragmented files she had spent the night decrypting. The room fell quiet as the streams of data converged into one name: Kade Rauth.“Landon, look at this,” Priya said, her voice low. She tapped the screen, bringing up a profile. “Rauth. Multiple military citations. Strategic brilliance. Presumed dead for over a decade. And now, leading the Iron Order.”Landon leaned in, eyes narrowing. “The Iron Order has a ghost at the helm?”“Not a ghost,” Priya said, her tone sharper now. “A general. One who doesn’t miss. Who doesn’t hesitate. Whoever th
Chapter 132. A Warning Shot
The wind cut across the city’s rooftops, sharp and cold, carrying the distant hum of traffic. Landon Hale crouched behind a crumbling ventilation shaft, scanning the block below. Neon signs flickered in the half-light, and every shadow felt alive. He wasn’t alone; Navarro and Priya flanked him, their breaths visible in the night air. Claire’s voice came through comms, calm but tense. “Target location is two blocks east. Surveillance shows a congregation, small but heavily guarded. No civilians nearby. Looks like the cult is performing a ritual of some kind.”Landon adjusted his stance. His boots scraped against the metal. He could feel the pulse of Kinetic Echo stirring faintly in his hands, an itch he had learned to ignore. “Visible forces?” he asked, scanning with precision.“Minimal,” Claire said. “Three armed guards, all standard cult issue. Nothing beyond what you’ve faced before.”Navarro grunted. “Too easy.”“That’s the problem,” Landon said. His eyes narrowed. “Something’s o
Chapter 131. Claire’s Ethical Crisis
Claire stood by the window of the Vanguard’s Chicago outpost, the city lights reflecting off the steel frames of nearby towers. The hum of electricity in the building felt louder than usual. Screens flickered with live feeds of the Iron Order in action. One clip showed a god-touched criminal immobilized in seconds, limbs pinned and eyes wide in disbelief before being restrained with crystalline chains. Another showed a smaller, rogue artifact neutralized mid-air by a silent strike team. Not a sound, not a hesitation. Efficiency perfected.Claire pressed her palms against the glass. The reflection of her own eyes stared back at her, wide and alert, but something behind them had shifted. Behind Landon’s steady focus and the team’s structured efforts, she felt unease settling in her chest. She had trained for war, for chaos, for the moral ambiguities of battling the unnatural. But what she saw on the screens now felt different. “Their speed, their precision, it’s not natural,” she s
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