"Alright, you two take care of them here," Locke said, glancing at Polaris and Clarice as he stepped back from the hospital beds. "I still need to go find Dr. Ethan."
Polaris immediately straightened, her expression firm. "We're coming with you."
"No need," Locke replied without hesitation, raising a hand to stop her. His tone was calm, but it left no room for argument.
Clarice looked between them for a second before giving a small shrug. "Alright then."
Seeing that he had already made up his mind, neither of them pushed further. They both understood that when Locke decided something, there was usually a reason behind it.
…
Back in the ruined town, Locke reappeared silently amid the debris. His gaze shifted toward a distant direction, his eyes narrowing slightly as his Telepathy traced the lingering presence of the Ten Rings militants.
That was the direction they had retreated.
For a brief moment, killing intent flickered in his mind. Wiping them out wouldn't take more than a thought. Compared to him, they were nothing.
But after a short pause, he let it go.
That kind of revenge… didn't belong to him.
If anyone had the right to settle that score, it was Wanda and Pietro.
Turning away, Locke stepped forward and vanished again, heading toward the next town.
The moment he arrived, his Telepathy spread out like a net, sweeping across the entire area. Countless fragmented thoughts poured into his mind, but it didn't take long for him to isolate what he was looking for.
Dr. Ethan.
The information surfaced quickly—but it wasn't good.
Locke's expression turned slightly strange.
"…Caught again?"
The man had somehow ended up in the hands of the Ten Rings once more.
At the center of the town, in an open square, chaos unfolded.
The Ten Rings militants were conducting a brutal sweep, dragging people out into the open. The scene was disturbingly systematic—men were separated and forced into labor, while women were pulled aside with intentions that didn't need explaining.
The elderly and the weak were treated as disposable.
Those who resisted didn't last long.
Gunshots rang out without hesitation, each one claiming another life. The bodies left behind were barely even acknowledged, as if they were nothing more than obstacles.
It was cruelty in its purest form.
And yet, in a place like this, it had become routine.
Among the captives, Locke quickly spotted Dr. Ethan.
He was tied to the back of a large truck, his posture slumped as if he had already accepted his fate. There was no struggle left in him, no visible will to resist.
Seeing that, Locke let out a quiet sigh.
If the man had already given up, then simply rescuing him wouldn't be enough. He needed something stronger—something that would reignite his will to live.
"Who's there?!"
The moment Locke stepped into the square, several of the Ten Rings militants noticed him immediately. Their weapons snapped toward him, suspicion turning into hostility in an instant.
Locke didn't even spare them a glance.
He walked forward calmly, his steps steady as he headed straight for the truck.
A gunshot rang out.
Boom.
The sharp crack of the bullet echoed across the square, making the surrounding civilians flinch instinctively. Every time the terrorists fired, it meant someone was about to die.
But this time, something was different.
The bullet stopped.
Just one meter away from Locke, it hung in the air, frozen as if time itself had been paused.
He didn't turn around. He didn't react. He simply lifted his hand and flicked it casually.
The next moment—
The bullet shot backward.
Pfft. Pfft. Pfft.
It moved like a living thing, weaving through the air with unnatural precision. One by one, it pierced through the heads of the militants, each impact clean and instantaneous.
No wasted motion.
No second shots.
In less than a second, every armed terrorist in the square collapsed.
Silence fell.
The townspeople stared in stunned disbelief, their minds struggling to process what they had just witnessed. It wasn't until the last body hit the ground that reality caught up with them.
Then the square erupted.
Cheers broke out, raw and overwhelming, as relief and shock collided. Some people laughed, others cried, and many simply stood frozen, unable to fully comprehend what had just happened.
Dr. Ethan slowly lifted his head, drawn out of his numb state by the noise. His eyes locked onto Locke as the young man approached him.
There was no emotion in Ethan's expression—just a hollow, distant look.
"Dr. Ethan," Locke said plainly, stopping in front of him. "I came here for you. I have an experimental project that needs your participation."
Ethan didn't react.
"I refuse," he said flatly.
Locke wasn't surprised.
"What if I told you I could bring your family back?" he asked, his voice calm but deliberate.
That finally caused a change.
Ethan's empty gaze flickered, a faint spark appearing in his eyes.
"Don't lie to me," he said quietly. "That's not something anyone can do."
"I'm not lying."
Locke stepped away from him and walked toward a man lying on the ground nearby. The man was writhing in pain, his face pale from blood loss. One of his arms had been severed completely, the wound still fresh.
He didn't say a word.
He simply placed his hand over the man's shoulder.
And then—
Something impossible happened.
Flesh began to regenerate.
Muscle fibers twisted and grew, bone extended, skin formed over it all in a seamless reconstruction. In just a few seconds, the man's arm was restored completely, as if it had never been cut off.
The man stared at his arm in disbelief, his breathing uneven. "My… my arm…"
He moved it, flexed it, touched it with his other hand.
"It's… it's really back…"
His voice broke, turning into laughter as tears streamed down his face. "It's healed! My arm is healed!"
The surrounding crowd fell silent again.
Then chaos erupted once more—but this time, it was different.
"God… what did we just witness?"
"He's a miracle worker!"
"He's been sent to save us!"
Some dropped to their knees immediately, overcome with emotion. Others followed, one after another, until a wave of people began bowing in reverence.
To them, this wasn't science.
It was divine.
Locke ignored the reaction completely.
"Dr. Ethan," he said, turning back to him. "You believe me now."
Ethan was staring at him as if looking at something beyond human comprehension.
"You… you're…" His voice trembled. "You're a god reborn…"
He dropped to his knees without hesitation, his head lowering in complete submission.
"Please," he said hoarsely. "Bring my family back. I'll do anything you ask."
....
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