The next evening, Ronnie stood at the door to the small, cracked-walled apartment. His presence filled the narrow hallway, but his knock was quiet.
The door opened a sliver—Elion's mother, pale but awake, peered out.
Mother: "You're… the man from the street?"
Ronnie: "Ronnie Vaydrin. High Authority of Neoterra Prime."
Her eyes flickered with worry.
Mother: "If this is about what happened—"
Ronnie (gentle but firm): "It's about making sure it doesn't happen again. May I come in?"
The room was even smaller up close. Elara sat cross-legged on the floor, quietly stitching a tear in her sleeve with clumsy hands. Elion was by the window, watching Ronnie with guarded eyes.
Ronnie took in the peeling paint, the patched blankets, and the rattling heater.
Ronnie: "Your condition… How long have you been like this?"
Mother: "Months. But we get by."
Ronnie: "Not for long, if this continues."
From his coat, Ronnie pulled a folded document and a hospital card.
Ronnie: "I've arranged for your treatment. Full expenses covered. You'll be moved to Neoterra General by morning."
The woman's eyes widened, disbelief mixing with relief.
Mother: "Why? You don't even know us."
Ronnie's gaze drifted to Elion, then to Elara—still silent, still watching him like he might disappear.
Ronnie: "Because your kids deserve more than this. And because I've spent too long watching people fall through the cracks in this city."
He knelt so he was eye-level with Elion.
Ronnie: "While your mom's in the hospital, I want you and Elara to stay with me. You'll have food, safety… and I'll help you control what's inside you, so it doesn't hurt anyone else."
Elion's hands tightened into fists.
Elion: "And if we say no?"
Ronnie smiled faintly.
Ronnie: "Then I'll keep showing up here anyway, until you realize I'm not going anywhere."
Elion hesitated, but after giving it a good thought, he nodded.
By the next morning, Elion's mother was in a clean hospital bed for the first time in months, and the two children sat in the backseat of Ronnie's car—silent but wide-eyed—as the neon sprawl of Neoterra Prime blurred past the windows.
Elion: "When can we see our mother?"
Ronnie: "Every day and every time you guys want to."
Elion smiled brightly.
For the first time in years, Elion didn't feel like he had to look over his shoulder. While Elara looked excitedly out the window and smiled.
Ronnie's penthouse wasn't a palace, but to Elion and Elara, it might as well have been.
Elion: "This is yours?"
Ronnie: "Yeah, Vaydrin energy solution. Got me my first pocket money."
Elion: "You're neat, old man."
Ronnie: "Old? I'm 23."
The first night, they didn't even sleep in the beds—they curled up together on the floor by the couch, blankets piled high, still not trusting the softness around them.
By the second week, Elara had stopped flinching at the hum of the elevator or the sound of doors opening. She still barely spoke, but she followed Ronnie around the apartment, small footsteps echoing in the hall.
Ronnie took Elion to the precinct's private training hall.
Ronnie: "Your Awakening isn't a curse, but without control, it can be."
Elion: "How can I control it?"
Ronnie smiled.
Ronnie: "With very hard training."
Elion's first attempts at channeling his fire left scorch marks on the reinforced walls and burned the sleeve of Ronnie's jacket—twice. But Ronnie didn't yell. He corrected and guided him, showing him how to draw the flames into a single point instead of letting them burst uncontrolled.
Ronnie: "You have the ability over fire itself. Everything you can imagine, you can do with the power of your fire."
Over time, the boy's movements became sharper, his focus deeper. He even started smiling after landing a clean strike without scorching anything.
The next day, Ronnie woke Elion up so that he could be ready for his first day in school.
Elion didn't want to say it himself, but he obviously was scared of his new environment.
He has never been to school. Everything he knew—reading, writing, math, and physics—he learned it all from his mother.
One rainy night, Ronnie found Elara in the kitchen, standing on a stool to reach the counter. She was awkwardly buttering bread for Elion, who sat nearby doing homework.
When Ronnie stepped in, she froze, expecting to be scolded. Instead, he gently took the knife, finished the sandwich, and handed it back to her with a small nod.
Ronnie: "Good work, kid."
She didn't answer right away—but that night, for the first time, she spoke softly to Ronnie before bed:
She came into his room and hugged him.
Elara: "Thank you."
She said before quickly running out of his room.
Ronnie didn't know if she said thank you for helping her out before or for generally taking care of her, but what he knew was that it came from her heart and that she meant it. He had seen the pain that she endured in her eyes.
He knew those eyes; he had seen them before. The same painful eyes his mother had. Ronnie has her face deeply engraved in his mind. He has a picture of her next to his bed, which he stares at every night before sleeping.
A month later, Ronnie came home from a long shift to find the two kids asleep on the couch. Elion was slumped against the armrest, a book in his lap, while Elara lay curled against him under the same blanket.
On the coffee table sat a plate of slightly burnt cookies—clearly an attempt by both of them to make something for him.
Ronnie didn't wake them. He just sat in the armchair across from them, the city lights painting the room in gold and blue.
Ronnie (quietly to himself): "…Guess I've got a family now."
Ronnie chuckled a little before leaning back into the chair.
Ronnie (chuckling, to himself): "Been a while, right?"
And for the first time in years, the High Authority of Neoterra Prime felt at peace.