A full month had bled away since the soot-stained nightmare of the Underground. For Kaelen, those weeks were a blur of sterile white ceilings and the rhythmic hum of medical machinery. Thanks to the advanced Healing Evoliths—the horrific cavity Skull had punched into his chest was gone.
His skin was healed and also all he's broken bones, but it left a really big scar.
Elias, Renji, and Jaxen had been discharged a week prior, their bodies recovering faster due to the sheer intensity of their recent power up. But for Kaelen, the wait was finally over.
Pampampam!
The sharp, rhythmic blare of a horn echoed through the hospital's executive parking lot. Sitting at the curb was a matte-black Aether-Lamborghini, its sleek, aerodynamic fins glowing with a faint blue neon pulse. The gull-wing door rotated upward, revealing Drakye Void behind the wheel, looking uncharacteristically sharp in a dark tactical suit.
Kaelen slid into the passenger seat, the leather smelling of expensive synth-fuel and old coffee. The engine purred like a predatory beast as they pulled away from the curb.
"How are you doing, kid?" Drakye asked, his eyes fixed on the road.
Kaelen looked out the window at the towering spires of the upper Sector. "I'm fine, sir," he replied, though his voice lacked its usual " golden boy " confidence. "Just ready to be out of that room."
When the car pulled into the 10th Division Base, the heavy blast doors hadn't even finished cycling open before a deafening roar erupted.
"SURPRISE!"
The entire team was there. Confetti made of recycled data-strips rained down as Sloane, Mikasa, and Rook crowded around the car. Jaxen was already shadow-boxing in the background, showing off that his arms were officially out of their casts, while Vela leaned against a crate, lazily waving a half-eaten protein bar.
"Welcome back to the trenches, Kaelen!" Jaxen yelled, clapping him on the shoulder hard enough to make him wince.
Cipher stepped forward, cutting through the noise. He wasn't smiling; instead, he held a stiff, metallic-ink envelope embossed with the symbol of the Xenocides.
"Guys, look at this," Cipher said, his voice unusually tight. "We've been officially invited to the Annual Grand Award Ceremony at the Main Hall."
"An award?" Elias asked, tilting his head. "I thought those were just for the high-ranked squads."
Rook nodded, crossing his scarred arms. " Not at all They give awards to the best divisions and people. The Aegis Prime—the 1st Division—usually sweeps the board. They have the highest count of 'Xenocide of the Month' trophies in history."
"Yeah, but look at this Nyx added, sliding in like a shadow and pointing to the letter on cipher's hand. "They specifically invited the 10th. And they explicitly requested the presence of Elias."
She turned to the rookie, a rare, teasing smirk on her lips. "Looks like our resident scrap-heap rookie is officially a star. The 'Boy who defeated skull, it's going viral on the news"
Elias felt a surge of genuine excitement, his eyes widening. "Cool"
"It means we're going shopping!" Sloane shrieked, grabbing Elias and Renji by the collars.
"Huh? Shopping?" Vela groaned, her eyes rolling back. "Come on... can't we just go in our combat gear?"
"No, no, no!" Sloane barked, with a large amount of excitement.
"This is our first time being recognized by the High Command. We are the 10th Division, and we are going to look like the legends we are!"
The Flare Mansion:
While the 10th was bickering over tuxedo fabrics, the atmosphere in the Flare Mansion was cold enough to frost the windows.
Inside a hall lined with ancient marble and gold-leafed tapestries, Valerius Flare knelt on one knee. His head was bowed low, his gaze fixed on the polished floor. Standing before him was his father, the undisputed head of the family: Valerion Flare.
"I am sorry, Father," Valerius whispered, his voice trembling with a mix of shame and fear. "I failed the mission. I brought shame to the Flare name."
"Raise your head, boy," a voice boomed—thick, ancient, and heavy with power.
Icarus Flare, the grandfather and patriarch of the lineage, stepped out from the shadows behind the desk. His eyes were like dying coals. "Skull's power was on another scale entirely. He achieved a level of flame that no one in this family has seen in three generations. Even if the three of us had stood against him together, he would have burned us to ash."
"It is not your fault that the monster was an anomaly," Icarus continued, though his tone wasn't kind—it was calculated.
Valerion stood up, his cape snapping behind him. "Grandpa is right. But the question remains... who is the 'man' who actually managed to put that monster down?"
Valerius gritted his teeth. "His name is Elias."
Valerion's eyes narrowed into slits of icy blue. "So, this boy thinks he can make a fool of us by succeeding where we didn't? He has no idea what is coming. We are going to that ceremony. Get ready, Valerius. We will remind the world who truly owns the light."
The Main Hall:
The Xenocide Main Hall was a cathedral of glass and steel, illuminated by floating crystals that cast a soft, golden glow over thousands of uniformed soldiers. All ten divisions were present, creating a sea of different colored insignias.
"Wow... this place is huge," Elias muttered, tugging uncomfortably at the collar of his black tuxedo. The 10th cleaned up remarkably well; the boys looked sharp in their dark suits, and the girls moved with a grace that hid their lethal skills.
"Foods!" Vela hissed, her eyes locking onto a long table filled with delicacies. "Hey guys, I think I'm gonna go have a snack—"
"No!" Sloane hissed, grabbing Vela's arm. "You promised to behave! If you get gravy on that dress, I will kill .
Suddenly, the bustling room went silent. The air pressure seemed to shift, becoming heavy and clean. A man walked through the crowd, and people parted for him like water before a ship. He was striking—handsome in a way that felt dangerous, with an aura that made everyone's hair stand on end.
It was Zane.
"So... this is the famous Elias," Zane said, his voice smooth and resonant.
Drayke Void immediately stood at attention, his hand snapping to his brow. "Sir! It is an honor to meet you!"
Zane chuckled softly, glancing at the Captain. "Yeah, Drayke, I'm sure it is. Relax."
"Sir! It is an honor!" the rest of the 10th shouted in unison, bowing their heads.
Zane ignored the formalities, his intense gaze fixed solely on Elias. His brow furrowed. There was something in the boy's eyes, the way he carried his shoulders—it was a haunting sense of familiarity. Elias felt it too; looking at Zane felt like looking into a mirror he didn't recognize.
"What is your surname, boy?" Zane asked, his voice dropping to a low, serious tone.
Elias stood tall, meeting the Zane gaze. "Elias Walker, sir."
The change in Zane was instantaneous. His pupils dilated, and his heart hammered against his ribs so loudly he was sure the room could hear it. Walker? It can't be... he...was dead
Can he really be alive? Zane thought, his mind racing through memories he thought were extinct.
"Sir?" Drayke asked, noticing Zane sudden stiffness. "Are you okay?"
Zane snapped back to reality, though his eyes remained wide. "Yeah... I am fine. Keep up the good work, Elias. We'll be watching you."
As Zane walked away, Renji leaned in, whispering, "What just happened? It looked like Elias gave the Big Boss the chills."
"Looks like the rookie is scarier than we thought," Nyx said, her eyes following Zane.
"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! PLEASE TAKE YOUR SEATS!"
The announcer's voice boomed over the speakers, and the thousands of soldiers took their places. The atmosphere was thick with anticipation.
The Team of the Month: The 10th Division!"
For a heartbeat, the room went stone-cold silent. Then, a massive murmur erupted from the crowd.
"The 10th? , how?"
"The worst division how?"
"How did they get ahead of the 1st?"
The whispering grew into a low roar of disbelief, but then, a sharp, rhythmic sound cut through the noise. Liora stood up, her face set in a look of fierce pride, and began to clap. Her applause was loud and unwavering. Slowly, the 2nd Division joined her, and then the 3rd. Within seconds, the entire hall was thundering with applause, the sheer volume of it shaking the glass ceiling.
"And now," the announcer continued, "for the individual award. The Xenocide of the Month: Elias Walker!"
As Elias's name echoed, Valerius Flare, standing with the 1st Division, clamped his jaw shut, his face twisted into a deep, dark frown. He looked as if he wanted to storm the stage himself.
But as Elias stood to walk down the aisle, the mood in the room shifted again. The girls from the other units leaned in, their eyes wide as they whispered to one another.
"Wait, is that him? He's actually... really handsome."
"Look at those eyes... he doesn't look like a rookie at all."
"I heard he took down Skull single-handedly. He looks so cool in that suit."
The crowd watched his every step, the whispers of the soldiers following him like a shadow. Valerion Flare stepped onto the stage, holding a velvet box containing a shimmering, gold-and-diamond medal.
Elias walked up the stairs, his boots clicking on the stage. As Valerion leaned in to pin the medal to Elias's tuxedo, his face remained a mask of professional pride for the cameras, but his voice was a venomous whisper that only Elias could hear.
"Don't let this little trinket get to your head, slum," Valerion hissed, his eyes burning with hatred. "You're a fluke. A mistake. And mistakes eventually get erased."
Elias didn't flinch. He didn't look away. He leaned in just an inch closer, his voice as cold and sharp as the scales he carried.
"Then you should watch your tongue, cause a mistake is holding an award and your prodigy is down there crying is ass."
The two men locked eyes—one the king of the old world, the other the sovereign of the new. The war for the future had officially moved from the Underground to the light.