The sun had barely begun to rise over the quiet woods, mist curling around the cabin like slow breath. Bob leaned against the railing of the porch, arms crossed, his phone pressed to his ear. Inside, he could hear Alex snoring, out cold after another brutal training session.
It rang twice before Lena answered.
"You're up early," she said, her voice tired but sharp.
"Couldn't sleep," Bob replied, eyes scanning the trees for threats that weren't there. "Any updates?"
"Plenty. We're settled at the second fallback site. Selena's been training with Ryan; Beth's helping Alex's absence not hit as hard. She misses him, though. A lot. We all do."
Bob nodded, the wind brushing past his face. "He's safe."
"I figured. But you should still check in more often. You disappearing into the woods with the most valuable asset alive doesn't exactly keep morale high."
A small smile tugged at his lips. "Didn't think you'd care."
"I do," she said. Then quieter, "We all do."
There was a beat of silence between them before Bob spoke again. "What happened at the facility after we left?"
Another pause.
"We destroyed it,"
Bob exhaled. "Right."
"You want a guilt trip? 'Cause I've got a few ready."
"I already live in one."
The line went quiet again, until Lena's voice softened. "Bob. You don't have to blame yourself, for what Axel did."
"I know," he said. "But I do."
She didn't argue.
"Tell Beth Alex's doing fine. Better than fine. He's leveling up fast. He's… I don't know how to describe it. He's something else."
"Like father, like son," Lena said. "And you?"
He hesitated. "I'm fine, I guess."
"Take care of him, Bob."
"I will."
And with that, he ended the call. The woods had grown brighter. Birds stirred. From inside, Alex's voice rose.
"Are we out of cereal?!"
Bob sighed.
"Back to reality," he muttered.
And walked back in.
…
The fire crackled low in the stone hearth of the cabin, casting a soft amber glow across the worn-out furniture. Alex was sprawled on the couch, half-covered in a blanket, a half-eaten bag of chips on his chest. Bob sat in the armchair beside him, a cup of bitter black coffee cooling in his hand.
The silence between them was comfortable, until Alex broke it.
"Can I ask you something?"
Bob didn't look up. "You just did."
"About dad," Alex said, sitting up slightly. "Your last fight with him… What really happened?"
Bob's hand froze on the cup.
Alex pressed on. "I know the public version. Everyone does. That he beat you. That you vanished after that. But… you don't talk about it. Ever. And I always wondered why."
Bob stared into the flames, jaw tight. Seconds passed. Then he exhaled, slow and heavy.
"Alright… get ready… That fight was five years ago. The last thing that kept me caged… died that night."
Alex's expression sobered. He waited.
Bob finally spoke. "Two years after Helix Point, I'd already erased almost everyone connected to it. Doctors. Scientists. Guards. Anyone who laid a finger on me when I was just a kid strapped to a machine." He looked at Alex now. "Everyone."
Alex didn't breathe.
"Hope found me in a bunker outside of Lortham. He'd been tracking me for months." Bob's fingers curled around the arm of his chair. "We fought. I don't even know for how long. It started in the sky and ended underground."
"And… he beat you?" Alex asked quietly.
Bob looked him in the eye. "Everyone thinks I lost that fight. That Hope was able to defeat the strongest enemy he ever had to face," He leaned forward, his voice colder now. "That's where they're wrong."
He stood up, and started walking outside, toward the window, staring into the darkness of the woods.
"I won that fight..."
…
Five Years Ago...
The ground shook from the force of the blast. A beam of twisted matter seared through a hallway of concrete, vaporizing steel as Hope descended, radiant in gold and white armor, with a flowing mantle scorched at the edges.
Rafael stood at the far end, his body pulsing with living shadow, tendrils of darkness coiling around his arms like serpents.
"Stop this!" Hope roared, launching forward in a blur of shattered matter.
Rafael didn't move. He let Hope come to him.
The clash lit the tunnel like a sun igniting underground. The two men slammed into each other, raw power exploding outward in a shockwave that cracked the earth.
Rafael's body was bruised and bleeding, but he grinned.
"You're not holding back, old man."
Hope growled. "You're not giving me a choice."
"You never gave me a choice," Rafael spat. "They made me into a monster and you let it happen, I heard you actually knew what was going on there. You're no hero."
Rafael wrapped Hope in shadow chains, yanking him into the wall. Hope broke free with a twist of the reality itself, but it wasn't enough. Rafael's fear aura was crawling under his skin now, making Hope slow… uncertain.
"You're not afraid of me," Rafael whispered, stepping closer. "You're afraid of what you'll have to do to stop me."
Hope gritted his teeth, raising a hand.
"Then do it!" Rafael roared, shadows swirling like a hurricane around him.
Hope responded instantly, no hesitation this time. A beam of pure plasma, a combination of twisted matter and light erupted from his palm, tearing down the tunnel like a laser from the gods. Rafael leapt into the air, twisting midair as a cloak of darkness consumed him. The beam struck the ceiling, vaporizing it, sending tons of concrete raining down, but the shadows caught it mid-fall, suspended the rubble like a storm frozen in time.
Rafael came down like a spear, his fist wreathed in living nightmare. Hope met him mid-strike with a blazing uppercut, light and dark colliding with a detonation that carved a crater into the earth. The impact shattered every light source in the area, plunging them into a flickering world of fire and void.
They both stumbled back, scorched and bleeding.
Then they ran.
Their clash tore through steel walls, shattered reinforced doors. Hope tackled Rafael through a bulkhead, slamming him into a fusion core room. Rafael retaliated by pulling the room itself into his shadow field, wires and panels twisting like vines, entangling Hope's limbs.
But Hope ignited his entire armor, becoming a living star, and burned through the bindings.
"I didn't know what was happening there!" Hope shouted, surging forward. "Just listen to me… let me explain…"
"NO!" Rafael bellowed.
They collided again.
Hope fired a concentrated light lance, Rafael caught it with both hands, his flesh burning and peeling, but he gritted his teeth and dragged it sideways, redirecting it into a generator. The resulting explosion lit the whole underground like a rising sun.
They flew through the chaos, Hope pushing Rafael up through a shaft into the open night. The sky above Lortham was moonless, stars muted by clouds. But the two meta-beings turned it into a second dawn.
High above the earth, they traded blows. Rafael's shadows grew wings. Hope's light became armor.
Each punch sent shockwaves that shattered windows miles away.
Then Rafael wrapped himself in complete void, dimming the stars, swallowing sound. Hope lit the sky with a full-body flare, slicing through it.
They both fell from the heavens, spiraling like broken comets. They slammed back to earth with a crash that flattened everything around.
Smoke. Rubble. Silence.
Rafael stood tall amidst the wreckage, his chest rising and falling with labored breath. Blood trickled from a dozen wounds, his knuckles split open, shadows still curling faintly around his arms like smoke reluctant to leave the battlefield.
Hope was on his knees, one hand digging into the cracked ground to keep from falling completely. His radiant glow had dimmed, flickering like a dying star. The weight of defeat hung in his posture, his head low, his cape torn, the light in his eyes no longer proud, just human.
They stared at each other through the destruction they'd caused, craters in the earth, buildings broken like toys, the world around them scarred beyond recognition.
Rafael approached slowly, every step a small defiance of pain. He loomed over Hope, not in triumph, but in grief.
"I won," Rafael said quietly, more to himself than to Hope. "I could end this. Right now."
Hope didn't argue. He didn't beg. He simply looked up at him, accepting. "Do it."
Rafael didn't move.
The shadows around him withered, fading into the cracks in the earth. The madness that had driven him, rage, vengeance, pain, had burned itself out. He knew Hope wasn't at fault. The first time they fought, Hope wasn't there to fight. He went there to stop what was happening at Helix Point, but Bob had done it first.
Bob sank to his knees across from him. Bloodied, breathing hard. He met Hope's gaze and for the first time in years, his voice shook.
"Kill me," he said.
Hope's eyes narrowed.
Bob looked down, fists clenched. "You're a good guy. Everything I can't be. End this. Before I become something worse."
Silence stretched between them.
"I need you to make me a promise," Bob added, voice quieter now, almost pleading. "Don't let them do this to anyone else. Don't let another kid end up like me."
Hope reached forward, not with power, but with steadiness. He placed a hand on Bob's shoulder.
Bob flinched, not out of fear, but from the sheer strangeness of the gesture. After everything he'd done, after all the blood on his hands, this man, this hero, wasn't lashing out. Wasn't condemning him. He was… grounding him.
"I won't ," Hope said firmly. "You're not the monster."
Bob's gaze dropped. His voice, when it came, was hollow. "You don't know what I've done."
"I do," Hope said. "I saw the reports. I saw the aftermath."
Bob's jaw clenched. "Then why are you still talking to me like I'm worth saving?"
Hope exhaled. "Because I saw you too. In the middle of all of it. In every report, every slaughter, there were cracks in the story. You could've wiped out towns, you didn't. You could've killed innocents, you never did. You only hunted the ones involved with Helix Point. Scientists, guards, handlers. You weren't trying to break the world… you were trying to break your cage."
Bob looked up, eyes raw, blood caking the edge of his lips. "That doesn't make me a good guy."
"No," Hope admitted. "It makes you human."
A long silence passed between them, the wind whispering through the destruction around them.
"I've done too much," Bob said, almost in a whisper. "There's no future for someone like me."
Hope tilted his head slightly. "Then don't chase the future. Build it. Start small. A life in pieces is still a life."
Bob snorted bitterly. "You've got a quote for everything, don't you?"
Hope smirked faintly. "Hero handbook. Section Four. Page six."
Bob let out a dry, unexpected laugh.
Hope leaned back, his tone softening. "You were a kid, Rafael. A kid put into a nightmare. You survived it in the only way you knew how. That's not evil. That's survival. You think you're a monster? You aren't, they were.
Bob exhaled, tired. "So… what now?"
"Now," Hope said, rising to his feet with a quiet groan, "we fake your death. You vanish. Stay off the grid. I'll handle the cover story. And you—" he pointed a finger at Bob, "—you keep that power in check. No more vendettas. No more body counts."
Bob looked up at him, unsure. "Why help me? Really."
Hope didn't hesitate.
"Because I should have helped you back then. And I didn't."
Bob said nothing. But something inside him shifted. A wall cracked.
Hope dusted off his ruined suit, even that special armor had a crack on it, wincing as he touched his ribs. "By the way," he added as he turned to walk, "next time you suplex me into a crater, maybe don't aim for the water mains. I smell like sewage and regret."
Bob huffed. "I thought it'd soften the landing."
Hope chuckled over his shoulder. "Yeah, well, all it did was ruin my boots. You owe me a pair."
Bob gave a half-shake of his head. The tiniest curve touched his lips.
And just like that, the storm ended, not with death, but with something far rarer.
A second chance.
"By the way, you have to change your name." Hope said. "How about…hmm…Miguel?"
...
Present day...
The fire crackled in the stone hearth of the cabin, throwing flickering shadows across the wooden walls. Alex sat cross-legged on the floor, still processing everything he'd just heard. His mind buzzed with images of that fight between Bob and Hope.
Bob leaned back in his chair, arms resting on the table behind him, staring into the orange glow of the flames. He looked tired.
"I didn't think he'd let me live," Bob muttered after a long silence.
Alex glanced up. "But he did."
Bob nodded. "He did more than that."
There was something different in his voice now. Not the hardness Alex was used to. This tone was quieter… almost grateful.
"Hope came to visit me," Bob said, his voice low and steady. "After the fight. Not right away, he gave me time. But a few months in… he just showed up one morning. No suit. No cape. Just a worn jacket and a bag of groceries."
Alex blinked. "He brought you groceries?"
Bob let out a small chuckle. "Said I looked like shit. He wasn't wrong."
The corner of Alex's mouth quirked up.
"He kept showing up. Every couple of weeks. Never stayed long. But he'd check in. Talk. Sometimes sit in silence. Sometimes argue." Bob stared into the fire. "He didn't treat me like a broken weapon. Not like the Bureau would've. He treated me like someone who was trying. Someone who could still make something out of what was left."
Alex frowned, thoughtful. "Why didn't he tell anyone you were alive?"
"Because he knew what they'd do," Bob said simply. "They'd come for me. Kill me. Just like they tried before my fight with Hope. Hope didn't believe in that."
There was a pause. The fire popped.
Bob's voice grew distant. "He gave me a chance to be human again. I don't think I ever thanked him for that."
Alex looked at him, really looked. "I think you didn't need to. I mean, you repaid the favor…"
Bob met his eyes.
"Jack thought I'm some sort of weapon," Alex added softly. "Everyone else probably will too, once they find out what I can do. You didn't.
Bob didn't answer right away. Then he gave a nod.
"I think you're more like my dad than you let yourself believe." Alex said.
Bob turned back toward the fire. "I'm nothing like Rick…"