Chapter 12 : A New Light
The call came just after sunrise. Kael was still groggy from sleep, a dull ache clinging to his muscles. He'd barely had a day to rest after his mid-air collapse, but there was no ignoring a summon from Harrow himself. Within the hour, he found himself standing in the central briefing chamber of Hero HQ.
Han fidgeted beside him, nervous energy practically buzzing off him. Zane leaned against the far wall, arms crossed, eyes half-lidded as if he were already bored. Lira stood near the front, tapping something on her tablet.
Darya, dressed in black and red combat gear, watched everyone with the cool detachment of a blade waiting to be drawn. Her sharp golden eyes scanned the room beneath jagged bangs of ash grey hair, streaked with a striking splash of white that curved like a battle scar. Tall and lean, she carried herself with dangerous grace, every step calculated, every glance edged. Various scars curled down her arms in intricate patterns, like trophies of old fights she didn't care to explain. They were partially hidden beneath the sleeveless, high-collared tunic cinched with double belts. Multiple earrings glinted from her ears.
Then the doors slid open, and Harrow entered.
Harrow was not a man you could miss. Broad-shouldered, with a voice like cracked granite and eyes that gave nothing away. He walked with the weight of years in the system, and his presence silenced the room.
"I'll make this quick," he said. "The situation with the Wraith impersonator has gone on long enough. Public trust is dipping, and the press is circling like vultures."
His eyes scanned each of them before landing on Darya. "Hero Darya will now be leading the investigation into the fake Wraith sightings. She will also oversee Han's combat training."
Han visibly deflated.
Kael blinked. "Wait, what about—"
"You," Harrow interrupted, "are on forced medical leave. Lira will handle the details."
Kael turned to Lira, who didn't even flinch. "I mean it, Kael. You need to step back before your body does it for you."
Darya raised a brow, glancing at Han. "Try not to cry during training. I bite."
"Great," Zane muttered from the corner. "Babysitting duty suits you."
Darya smiled thinly. "Don't start with me, shadow-boy. I still remember the last time you screwed up."
"And I still remember how you nearly blew up a warehouse full of civilians. But sure, let's play history."
Harrow cleared his throat sharply. "Enough."
Zane fell silent, but his eyes narrowed. Darya smirked.
Lira stepped forward again. "Zane, until your current case is concluded, you'll be under temporary supervision. Your new manager will be arriving within the week."
Zane raised a brow. "Since when do I need a manager?"
"Since your last one quit. And since HQ doesn't like freelancers snooping around hero-level cases unsupervised."
"Who is it?"
Lira hesitated a moment. "Baek Ryujin."
"Ryujin? The Emergency Response guy?" Kael asked, surprised.
"Former Emergency Response," Lira corrected. "He left after the Sector 8 school collapse. Rehabbed for nearly a year. We just got word he's rejoining through HAA placement."
Kael remembered the name from the story of Nima's old team she told about yesterday.
"What happened to him?" Zane asked.
"Fractured leg, heavy smoke damage. He disappeared off-grid for a while," Lira said. "Cut contact with most of his squad. But he knows Nima's with us. That might be why he agreed to return."
Then Lira turned to Kael. "Now give me your comm device."
Kael blinked. "What?"
"You heard me. I don't trust you not to sneak off and investigate something the moment we turn our backs. Hand it over."
Kael hesitated, then slowly removed the sleek band from his wrist and handed it over.
"No patrols, no side missions," she said. "Rest. That's an order."
Harrow nodded in approval. "Dismissed."
As the group filtered out, Kael lingered a moment longer, exchanging a glance with Zane.
Han groaned quietly. "I feel like I just got grounded by five different parents."
Darya clapped a firm hand on his shoulder. "Let's get to work, rookie."
Kael, meanwhile, stepped out of HQ with a strange weight lifted. Lira thought she was keeping him away from the mess.
But without his comm, without obligations—he finally had room to dig deeper.
And with Nima and Ray by his side, he intended to do exactly that.
********
Kael reached his room and flopped onto the couch, the tension of the meeting still lingering in his chest. He pulled out his personal phone and sent a quick message to Nima.
Kael: Just came out of a meeting with Harrow and Lira. Darya's assignment is done. Also they're assigning a new manager to Zane. Guess who? Baek Ryujin.
Kael: I remember the name from your old squad. What happened to him? And how does HQ even know him?
Less than a minute later, his screen lit up with an incoming video call.
Nima's face appeared, eyes wide in surprise, her brows already furrowed. "Wait—Ryujin's coming back? To HQ?"
Kael nodded slowly. "That's what Lira said."
She leaned back, processing the news. "I can't believe he's coming back… After everything, he just vanished. We lost contact completely. I tried reaching him after they transferred me, but nothing. No messages, no updates."
She rubbed the back of her neck. "He was... like my anchor in that squad. Always calm, always quietly standing up for what was right. I thought maybe he ran, or needed space after the trauma, but now knowing the truth…" She paused. "If he's back, that means something. He wouldn't return unless he had a reason."
Kael watched her, the concern etched into her features clearer than any words.
"I didn't tell you the full story yesterday," she said more quietly. "Honestly, it was too much to explain in one breath. But since Ryujin's back, you deserve to know."
Kael leaned forward, the light from the screen casting shadows across his room.
"The incident four years ago… It wasn't just about the tech department's negligence. That day, we were evacuating a massive school building—hostels, classrooms, everything. A villain had attacked and caused huge damage. After we escaped with Ryujin barely conscious, the hero finally showed up to clear the site. The one on duty was Issac."
Kael frowned. "Issac? The ice-based hero?"
Nima nodded. "Ryujin was getting treated in the ambulance outside when the villain—who everyone thought was dead—suddenly came back to life. Like some twisted zombie. Issac went to handle him, but something went wrong. The villain started distorting, like his body couldn't contain the power. He exploded—self-destructed."
Kael's eyes widened.
"It was chaos. Half my squad got thrown back. Some were critically injured. Two didn't make it. Even Issac couldn't protect everyone. Ryujin, still recovering, tried to help before collapsing again."
She exhaled shakily.
"Afterward, Ryujin and I stormed HQ—this very building. Harrow. Lira. All of them. We demanded they take responsibility, not just for the tech failures but for covering up the self-destruction. We told them if they didn't act, we'd go to the media."
"What did they do?" Kael asked quietly.
"They promised action. Instead... I got transferred. Ryujin? They sent people after him. He got cornered outside HQ and beaten so badly his leg fractured. They masked it as an accident. He disappeared for rehab after that."
Her expression softened, a thread of worry slipping into her voice. "I didn't even know he was beaten up until much later. They didn't tell me. Not until I was already relocated and it was too late to do anything."
Kael sat in stunned silence.
"And now he's back," Nima said. "Assigned to Zane. I don't know why he agreed. Maybe to finish what we started."
Kael leaned back, jaw clenched.
******
Baek Ryujin adjusted the strap of his sling bag and stared at the towering glass facade of Hero HQ.
Four years.
He hadn't walked these halls since the day he was wheeled out of them—his leg fractured, ribs bruised, and trust in the heroes he once believed in shattered beyond recognition. The old silver badge they'd issued him still sat tucked into his coat pocket, untouched since that day. A reminder. Not of duty, but of betrayal.
A familiar ache pulsed through his left leg as he shifted his weight. It didn't hurt all the time anymore, but the cold in the mornings—or his own tension—still made it flare.
He exhaled slowly.
The reflection in the glass doors looked like a version of him he barely remembered: tousled red hair curling lazily across his forehead, pale skin nearly glowing under the stark daylight. His eyes, always half-lidded, betrayed the burn simmering beneath. He hadn't changed much on the outside. Still wore oversized clothes, but today, he wore the standard manager's uniform—white shirt, black blazer, tailored pants, and polished shoes. It fit cleanly, almost too cleanly, like a role he hadn't asked to return to.
Still looked like he didn't give a damn.
He gave too many.
Tugging his hood up, he walked inside.
The place smelled the same—sterile, sharp, and humming faintly with electricity and control. Memories clung to every wall. He could still hear the faint echo of Nima yelling at the top of her lungs, that day they stormed into the command office demanding answers. Promising to walk if nothing changed. Back when their squad was whole.
His hand slid into his pocket and wrapped around the edge of his badge.His heart thudded once, hard.
As he waited for clearance at the entry checkpoint, he pulled out his phone and hesitated for a second before tapping open his contact list. Nima's name blinked up at him.
His fingers hesitated.
RYUJIN: Coming back to HQ. Heard from someone that you're still here. You okay?
RYUJIN: ...Didn't think I'd be walking back into this place again.
RYUJIN: Call me. Please.
He hit send before he could talk himself out of it, then immediately locked the screen and shoved the device back into his pocket.
It was stupid to feel nervous. But he did.
He hadn't reached out in four years—not after he disappeared into rehab, not when she tried calling.
But seeing her name on the employees files brought a strange kind of grounding he didn't expect. She was still here. Still fighting.
That was enough reason for now.
Ryujin stepped through the scanner and into the lobby.
He didn't limp visibly. Not yet. But each step was slower than the last, the familiar dull pull in his leg like a ghost reminding him of what had been taken.
Still, he straightened his back and kept walking.
He hadn't come here to forgive.
He came to finish what they started.