While Dean and the others were getting ready for the assault on the White House, Sark had engaged his mother in a discussion. He was leading at the moment:
"Why are you doing that?"
"You mean saving the world? Why wouldn't I? It seems like you still have a bad image of me!"
"Can you blame me?"
"To be true, no!"
Sark retreated. His eyes were locked on his mother's face as if searching for something. However, the mother betrayed no emotions and went on:
"Indeed, I was blinded by power—so much that it threatened the family. But know, my son, not once did I do something without thinking about the greater good of the family. Not once was it my intention to hurt anyone!"
"And what happened to father? He was too weak! So, you killed him!"
"I never told you the whole story. Look—your father was a good man. I mean, that's why we stayed together and why he became my partner. However, when he got ill, his mind followed. Not because the illness affected his mind—no, it only weakened his body. However, your father couldn't bear it. And he saw how I made the clan stronger than ever. Slowly, hatred and envy piled up in him. He turned to drugs. If his mind had been stronger, he wouldn't have fallen so far. I mean, you too had that illness when you were younger! Do you remember?"
"Yes! You said it's passed down in our family, and some are lucky to survive and—"
"Not lucky, son. It was never luck. Your father comes from a strong bloodline. They are so strong because only the strong ones survive. The natural selection of the strongest.
Your father told me everyone has it in the family, and at some point, it manifests—or rather, the test begins. The illness and the drugs... it changed your father. And when he saw how you defeated that illness, all his hatred was directed toward you."
Sark gulped.
"Well, he wanted to find out why. And for that, he was ready to do things to you—things I would never allow. So, one day I confronted him. He was the one to attack me. In the turmoil, I was not careful and he hurt himself. With his weakened body, I knew he wouldn't make it, and he too knew it.
For a moment, your father returned to his senses, and he told me two things. This illness that is passed down is not really an illness but rather a curse. He didn't have time to talk more about it because he was bleeding—a lot. Finally, he asked me to end his suffering. And trust me, he was in agony!"
The mother sauntered toward the door behind Sark. And when she reached it, she placed her hand on her son's shoulder.
"I loved your father and never stopped. Even now, I still do. And you are my son. I will always be harder on you. One day, you'll understand everything—when you'll be a father yourself. Take your time to digest everything. We are moving out soon."
In Paradise
Running with two broken arms proved harder than expected. The only advantage Dae had at the moment were the trees slowing down the enemy.
"You pussy! Come back here! Is that how men fight? Shame on you!"
All these insults bounced off Dae, for he was focusing—not on running, but something deeper. Something inside him.
His breath slowed down, and he felt a burning sensation running through his body toward his arms. And then he saw it: his arms were healing—slowly. At the same time, his skin turned dark brown, and his hair formed into braids. Lastly, his eyes turned to the likes of a demon. Only, his violet was darker than usual.
The giant accelerated, finally catching up to Dae, and he reacted with a:
"The hell! You black now?"
Dae turned around, most of his wounds healed, and demanded:
"You hate black folk?"
"No, just wondered. Demon or angel, black or white—I will defeat you!"
He opened his mouth and once again gathered energy. Meanwhile, Dae formed a mighty fist and clad it in demon energy.
"Seems like I'm no human after all!" he yelled with a bright smile.
Then he pounced on the giant and thrust the fist forward. The giant unleashed his attack.
Booooooom.
There was smoke everywhere. However, the two fighters did not care and resumed their series of punches. The resulting air pressure was strong enough to blow away the mist.
The two were smiling, and their barrage of attacks only seemed to increase in speed.
For his next attack, Dae evaded a punch and jumped over the man. Still in mid-air, he gathered energy in both arms. Then he started punching the air, and every time, energy would shoot out of his fists and slam into the enemy.
Dae pushed on, only increasing his punches until the whole terrain was wrecked. His fist was imprinted everywhere. Only one place was left less destroyed—and it was the place where the giant was standing.
Dae landed back on the ground. There, the giant was shrinking back to his normal form. Yet, he never fell and stood like a boulder. One arm gone, the other one in a bad shape. More blood could be seen on him than skin.
Yet despite his state, he rejoiced:
"That was a good fight! The color of your eyes and the feeling of your demonic energy... only once did I see and feel such a thing. And that was in a battle against demons. And the one who was leading them was the Demon King! Hahahaha, you must be one of his offspring!"
"Seems like it."
"I'm sure you didn't know it! That's why you first fought me in your human form. And yet you don't seem staggered at all!"
"Well, shit happens. I can just accept it and live with it."
"Damn, hahaha..."
And the eyes of the man closed. With his life and will gone, there was nothing anymore to support his body, and he dropped—were it not for Dae who caught him just in time. He placed him slowly on the ground.
"Rest well."