Kael walked beneath the sun without blinking.
San Boreal loomed in the distance—proud, filthy, swarming with surveillance. It was the heart of a rotten system.
Dust clung to his shoes. Sweat traced down his neck. But he didn't stop.
His sword was wrapped and hidden inside a black bag. He wore a dark, spotless suit, as if heading to a business meeting. But his eyes… spoke of war.
This wasn't a courtesy visit. He came for answers.
And if they didn't give them, he'd take them.
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It took most of the afternoon to reach San Boreal on foot. He entered through a back route, following maintenance tracks and forgotten industrial zones. He knew the blind spots well—he had escaped through those paths more than once as a child.
The city smelled like chemicals and control. Cameras on every pole, drones buzzing overhead, screens on every corner broadcasting lies.
But Kael wasn't afraid. Not this time.
He walked through the administrative center with his head held high. No one stopped him. Not yet.
Outside the towering Central Government building, he took a deep breath—
And stepped inside.
The guards intercepted him the moment he crossed the lobby.
"ID?"
"Kael Grayson," he said, voice steady. "I'm here to speak with the governor."
"Do you have an appointment?"
"Tell him that if he doesn't see me, he'll regret it."
The guard gave him a wary look.
Kael didn't flinch.
"One moment."
He radioed in. An awkward silence followed. Then a reply came—one that changed the guard's expression.
"He's expecting you. Floor thirty-three."
Kael walked alone to the elevator. No escort. No resistance. No one dared.
In the steel reflection of the elevator, he saw himself. Suited. Stern. Exhausted.
He looked like someone else.
Maybe he already was.
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The governor's office was sober, elegant, and cold—like its owner.
The governor rose from the chair behind his desk.
"So you're the boy who's caused us so much trouble in so little time."
Kael shut the door without a word.
He stopped three meters from the desk. He didn't sit.
"I want to know what the hell you want from me. And why you took the only person who never hurt you."
The governor tilted his head.
"You're alive. You should thank me for that."
"Was that supposed to be a favor?"
"It was a warning."
Kael frowned.
"I didn't ask you for anything. I didn't volunteer for your experiments. I just want to be left alone."
"You can't exist without raising questions, Kael. No one does what you did. No one survives what you survived without being… altered."
"I'm not altered. I just have something you don't understand. And I'm not giving it to you."
He stepped forward and pressed a button on the desk.
A screen lit up on the wall—footage from the underground parking attack. Kael emerging from the shadows, disarming armed men, protecting Sara.
Kael calmly set the bag on the floor.
"I hope you're listening. And not being stupid."
The governor looked at him, torn between laughing or shooting.
"Is that a threat?"
"It's a warning. Like yours."
"What do you want?"
"Thirty days. That's all. Thirty days without pursuit. No surveillance, no targeting my contacts. After that, if I'm still a problem, do what you want. But give me that time to vanish."
He shook his head.
"That's not how it works."
"It's how it's going to work," Kael said. "Because if not, this city will bleed more than you can cover up."
The governor clenched his jaw.
"You think your words intimidate me? I've watched men with legacy die. I've ordered missions that will never reach the records. And you… you're just a lucky child."
"I'm a child you no longer control."
The governor slowly sat down.
"You're alone. You know that, right?"
"You thought that when you took Sara."
"We could kill you right now."
"You could try."
Silence.
He leaned forward.
"What's in the bag?"
Kael didn't answer.
The governor leaned back, thinking.
"You know what I think? You're drunk on a new kind of ego. One you can't hold up. People like you break. They isolate. They take their own lives. Or they become forgotten myths."
"I'm no myth. I'm what you made."
He stood straight.
"There's no deal. No thirty days. But I'll give you a way out."
"What kind?"
"Turn yourself in. Cooperate. Give us your secret. We'll study it. You could live… comfortably."
"In exchange for betraying everything I am?"
"In exchange for surviving past twenty-five."
Kael slowly lifted his gaze.
"You know what happens to dogs that bite without permission?"
"What?"
Kael barely smiled.
"They get their tongues cut out. But I don't bark."
"Oh, no?"
"No. I tear throats."
He unbuttoned his jacket, drew the sheathed sword, and set it on the desk.
Guards appeared instantly at the doorway, guns drawn.
"Stand down," the governor ordered. "Let him be."
"You're playing with fire, Kael."
"And you're sitting on gasoline."
Kael put the sword back into the bag and slung it over his shoulder.
"Next time, I'm not here to talk."
"And I won't let you in."
"Then the building will fall—with you inside."
And he left.
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He walked for hours through the outskirts of San Boreal. No one followed. Not because they didn't want to.
But because they knew they couldn't.
He passed through gray zones where the lights had long since died, and children played in the trash.
He thought of Sara. What she meant to him. What losing her would've turned him into.
And he thought of himself.
Of what he was becoming.
And how there might be no turning back.
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That night, he found shelter in an abandoned train station. He lit a small fire with what he could find. Minimal heat. Dim light.
He opened the book.
8 out of 100.
He closed it. Closed his eyes. And waited.
Because the war… was no longer his alone.