[Day 21, 3 days left]
For the past few days, Kael had pushed himself beyond exhaustion, crossing city after city in a relentless march toward A City.
His face had spread across the news and the internet, forcing him to avoid populated areas. Safer routes lay through rural settlements—few and far between.
He survived on whatever he could find—farm crops, scraps of kindness. Some villagers, unaware of who he truly was, even offered him shelter for the night. Technology was scarce in those places… and perhaps that saved him.
His feet were torn—bruised, blistered, aching with every step. But his will refused to yield.
The thought of seeing his mother… just once more—
It drove him past his limits.
And at last, he reached A City.
All patients infected by the Black Breath were transferred to the WHA Hospital, where specialized treatments slowed its progression. Getting inside, however, was another matter entirely. Guards stood watch at every entrance.
Kael lowered his hood, slipping on a mask, and approached.
Guard: Stop. Why are you wearing a mask?
Kael: Sir, I'm—cough —terribly sick… and I'm here to see a doctor.
Guard: Take your mask off and show us your face, and we'll let you in.
There was no way around it.
Kael had anticipated this moment—he had prepared for it.
Just as his fingers reached for the mask—
A deafening crash erupted from the main road.
The ground split open into a sudden pothole, flipping a moving car and triggering a chain reaction of halted traffic. Though not fatal, the chaos was enough.
The guards turned instantly, rushing toward the scene.
And just like that—
Kael was forgotten.
Once inside, his eyes immediately swept the area. CCTV cameras lined nearly every corner, watching, recording. He glanced at the hospital map and quickly located the Staff Room—second floor.
Asking for his mother's room would draw suspicion.
So he didn't ask.
He moved.
Quiet. Measured.
The staircase—no cameras.
A narrow window of opportunity.
Kael stepped beside the wall and erased a section of it, creating a direct passage toward the Staff Room. Ten seconds—that was all he had before someone could appear.
He slipped through.
Inside, he wasted no time. Grabbing the nearest lab coat, he pulled it over himself, replacing his mask with a surgical one—
Becoming just another face in the system.
Eventually, he found his mother's ward.
He stepped inside.
Silently, he removed his disguise and sat beside her, taking her hand in his. Much of her body was veiled in dark, creeping patches—the unmistakable mark of the Black Breath. To anyone else, it would have been repulsive.
To Kael—
It didn't matter.
Kael: Mom… I… I don't know what to do anymore. The more I try to forget… the stronger it all becomes. I failed—as a hero… as a leader… as a friend…
A pause.
Kael: …and as your son. And now… I've… I've killed innocent people…I did. There's nothing left for me… except you. I don't know if you can hear me or not, but... I really need your guidance..... I really do. Even now, right now.
For a moment, he didn't know what else to say—so he leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.
Kael: I love you, Mom… but I have to go now.
A few tears slipped free, falling quietly.
Kael: I just… wish you could talk to me… one more time…
He stayed there for a second longer—
Then slowly stood and walked out.
He wiped his tears as he left.
Before he could take another step—
A squad of WHA special forces blocked the hallway, rifles raised and unwavering.
Marshall stood among them.
Marshall: This is your first and final warning, Kael. Hands behind your head. Get on the ground.
There was no escape.
Kael understood that one wrong move would end his life.
So he complied.
In seconds, two operatives restrained his arms while a third secured a power-nullification collar around his neck. The lock clicked into place—
And just like that, he was no longer a threat.
They forced him to his feet.
Marshall stepped forward.
Marshall: We placed our faith in you. Gave you everything you needed… and this is how you repay us? I'm disappointed in you, Kael. What do you have to say for yourself?
Kael said nothing.
Not a word.
Marshall exhaled, the answer already clear.
Marshall: Take him away.
Kael was transported to B City's Ice Box—an isolation facility reserved for high-risk individuals. The same method used to contain Dark Knights was applied to him: CTP transport, swift and absolute.
News of his arrest spread rapidly.
And, as always—
The world began to talk.
Outrage spread like wildfire across the internet.
Kael's name was dragged through every corner of it.
Even his friends saw the headlines—and even if they wanted to defend him, there was little they could say. The evidence spoke louder than loyalty.
His face was everywhere.
Branded a murderer. A criminal.
A monster.
B City's Ice Box was nothing like its predecessor. Funded jointly by the government and the WHA, each cell was reinforced with Nate's tungsten—nearly unbreakable, over two hundred times more secure than before.
Kael was placed in Sector C.
Three floors underground.
Cell 108.
After securing him inside, one of the guards paused at the door.
Guard: Prisoner 128, your trial will begin… after Zerathos is dealt with.
The door sealed shut.
A heavy silence followed.
But he wasn't alone.
???: So… they finally caught you, huh, kid?
Kael turned—
And froze.
A familiar figure sat across from him, reclining on the bed, a book resting lazily in his hands.
Herald.
Instinctively, Kael raised his guard, his body tensed, ready to react.
But Herald didn't move.
He didn't even look interested.
Herald: Relax, kid. I'm not gonna hurt you or anything.
He turned a page of his book, calm—almost indifferent.
Herald: Looks like the boss succeeded in breaking you. But don't worry, things might get easier for you now. At least, they gave me books—for helping you.
Kael frowned.
Kael: Why?
Herald glanced up slightly.
Herald: Hmm?
Kael: Why are you suddenly… being nice to me?
Another quiet turn of a page.
Herald: My role as a Dark Knight is over. No further orders.
He closed the book halfway.
Herald: So I have no reason to hold a grudge. Not against you… or anyone.
Silence settled between them.
Kael exhaled softly, then walked to his bed and sat down.
Herald: Lights go out at nine. Breakfast at eight. And keep your head down. Some Dark Knights might still have unfinished business with you.
Kael said nothing.
He lay back on the cold surface, staring upward as the seconds stretched into silence. Thoughts crept in—uninvited, relentless.
Faces.
Voices.
Failures.
And, above all—
His mother.
Slowly, his eyes closed.
Sleep came, heavy and uncertain.
[Day 22 — 2 days left]
It was 1:45 a.m.
Sleep refused him.
Kael lay still, eyes open, thoughts clawing at the edges of his mind. Two days. That was all that remained before the Black Breath consumed his mother… and everyone else.
Hope felt thin.
Fragile.
All he had left was the belief that his friends would reach Zerathos in time.
Herald: Can't sleep?
Kael didn't move.
Kael: Trying to. Why are you still up?
Herald: Maybe I pushed you too far.
Kael frowned slightly, beginning to rise—
—and then stopped.
Herald was sitting differently.
Still.
Too still.
When he lifted his head, one eye remained dark—
—but the other burned red.
Not a glow.
A presence.
Kael's breath hitched.
Kael:(Thought) What…? The collar's still on him… then how—?
Herald: Herald is asleep. You're not speaking to him. You're speaking to me.
Kael's voice dropped.
Kael: ...Zerathos?
Zerathos: Jackpot.
Kael was on his feet instantly, stepping back, distance instinctively widening between them.
Kael: Why are you here?
The air itself felt heavier.
Watching.
Knowing.
And somewhere behind those eyes—
Zerathos was smiling.
Zerathos saw it at once—the tension in Kael's posture, the instinctive distance, the quiet fear he tried to conceal.
So he didn't advance.
Instead, he sat down on the edge of the bed, calm and unhurried, as if this were a conversation already under his control.
Zerathos: I came to offer you peace, the same peace i tried to offer your friends but refused.
He raised a finger, and reality bent without resistance. The blisters along Kael's feet vanished. The aches in his body dissolved, leaving him whole again. Strength returned instantly, clean and unnatural.
Relief flickered through him—brief, unwelcome.
Zerathos leaned forward slightly.
Zerathos: How about a deal? Join me, and you have my word. I will halt the Black Breath, keep you and your mother safe, and ensure your friends never face danger again. So, what do you say?
Kael didn't answer immediately. His eyes remained fixed on him, searching.
Kael: What is your true goal? I know ruling the world isn't it.
Zerathos stood and began to walk slowly, hands behind his back, measured and composed.
Zerathos: I want to rid this world of imperfection… to refine it into something whole... A perfect reality.
Kael's gaze hardened.
Kael: That would mean ending the world as it is.
Zerathos: No. Not an end… a revision.
He took a step closer, his voice lowering just enough to carry weight.
Zerathos: I will reshape it into what it was always meant to be—the world we once envisioned."A world without end—harmonious, unbroken. No hatred. No weapons. No suffering. No one burdened by weakness or left behind by fate. A world of true equality… where no one must struggle simply to live.
For a moment, Kael said nothing.
The vision lingered.
Perfect.
Tempting.
And yet—
wrong.
He searched for an answer, but none came. Not yet.
Zerathos watched him, as if already aware of that silence.
Zerathos: Tomorrow, my Dark Knight will come. He will free you all. And I'll be expecting your answer.
The red glow faded.
Herald's body slackened, as though something had quietly stepped out of him. Without another word, he turned, returned to his bed, and lay down—already drifting back into sleep.
Silence settled again.
Now fully restored, Kael slowly returned to his own bed. This time, sleep came—but not gently.
In his dream, he was walking.
Not by choice.
His body moved on its own, guided by something unseen. Darkness surrounded him, thick and suffocating, until a narrow beam of light fell across his path.
He followed it.
Along the way, graves emerged from the shadows—row after row, stretching endlessly. Their surfaces were marked, engraved with something he couldn't quite see. The light began to fade, dimming faster with every step.
Then—
it vanished.
Darkness swallowed everything.
Kael stopped.
This time, he had control.
But there was no light left to guide him.
No direction.
No sound.
So he did the only thing he could—
and sat.
Curled on the cold ground, Kael drew his knees in.
Then—
a faint light flickered from his chest.
He frowned, glancing down at it, curiosity cutting through the darkness—
—and suddenly, he woke.
The prison alarm blared.
Morning had already begun.
Prisoners stirred, preparing for breakfast as routine took over the silence.
Herald: Morning, kid. Breakfast at 8. Stretch outside from 9 to 10, work after that, lunch at 12. Reading and indoor games from 1 to 3, bath after, then dinner by 5. So… get ready.
Kael rose without a word. As usual, he ran through his routine—five push-ups, ten squats, ten sit-ups—nothing impressive, but enough to keep his body from dulling. He changed into the prison uniform and made his way toward the cafeteria.
Halfway there—
someone hugged him from behind.
Soft.
Sudden.
Kael turned, already knowing.
Kael: Hey… you're the ship captain, right?
Diana tilted her head.
Diana:(Excitedly) Cruise captain. But sure, close enough. So—how's Michael?
Kael: He's… fine. Also, he's fifteen. That means you harassed a minor.
Diana blinked once.
Then—
Diana: What? No way. That just means I can marry him in three years.
Kael stared at her.
For a moment, he said nothing.
Then—
Kael realized, with absolute certainty—
this woman was completely unhinged.
Herald: That's just how she is.
In the cafeteria, as Kael ate, he could feel it—eyes on him from every direction. Not subtle. Not hidden.
Watching.
Most of them were Dark Knights. Men he and his team had beaten before.
Now they were watching him like prey.
Kael:(Thought) Great… one problem after another. And this time, I'm outnumbered. Even without powers, they can still tear me apart.
Kael picked up his plate and moved, keeping his pace steady, controlled. He took a seat between Herald and Diana—the only two he trusted, or at least, the only two who wouldn't jump him.
Then—
a shadow loomed.
Victor.
The doctor Kael had beaten down.
He stopped in front of him… and spat on his food.
Diana: Hey! Boss said leave the kid alone.
Victor: Oh, I remember. He said don't harm him. Didn't say anything about not making his life miserable. And stop being at his side or we will gut you like the fish you are.
Herald stood up, staring fiercely at Victor—
Herald: Watch your tone. Boss values this kid more than anything. And a loser like you... Should keep their mouth shut unless you want to feel the wrath of Boss.
Another inmate stepped in and poured milk over Kael's head.
Laughter spread.
Low.
Ugly.
Diana tensed. Herald shifted slightly—but neither moved.
They couldn't.
Kael stayed still.
Didn't react.
Didn't speak.
And that was the worst part.
Because it didn't stop.
Not then.
Not later.
By the end of the day, the pattern had set—food ruined, clothes soaked, constant jabs and quiet threats.
And even if Kael wanted to fight back—
he knew.
One wrong move…
and it would be over.
If Kael stepped out of line, he knew what would follow—another cell, isolation.
And right now—
he couldn't afford to be alone.
Even when the guards intervened… even when Herald and Diana stood by him—
it didn't make it easier.
Not really.
Far away, in Z City—
the stage was already set.
The heroes stood divided into two groups, positioned at the front and rear of the ancient temple. Beneath it, deep underground—
Zerathos waited.
Seated upon his throne.
Unmoving.
Unbothered.
Waiting.
Above, the infected—fifteen hundred of them—remained prepared, their bodies nothing more than fuel for the alien structure. Everything was in place.
Now, only time remained.
Tomorrow.
2 p.m.
A solar eclipse.
And when the shadow consumed the sky—
Zerathos would rise anew.
Stronger.
Complete.
His true design… known only to two.
Himself—
and Kael.
The promises he had made to the Dark Knights were hollow. Lies, crafted to keep them obedient.
To him, they were never allies.
Only pieces.
Only sacrifices.
All of it—
for one purpose.
To claim the ultimate power… and fulfill his desire.