9:15 PM
Daniel's room
"Three-thousand-pound bomb," David repeated under his breath as he stood.
He turned to Daniel, gaze steady.
"Brutal."
His voice was calm, emotionless. He didn't seem to care about what took place. All he wanted was an answer.
"David."
Rachel's voice was sharp, low, but edged with steel.
Her fingers pressed hard into her thighs as she leaned forward in her seat, eyes locking onto him.
She didn't raise her voice.
She didn't have to.
The fury was in her posture.
The tension in her jaw.
The way her narrowed eyes burned upward from beneath her furrowed brows.
"You had your time, Rachel."
David didn't flinch.
His voice was cold, measured, and almost mechanical.
"Now it's mine."
He stepped past her without breaking stride, eyes locked on Daniel.
"Your father, he seems like an interesting guy."
David stopped at the head of Daniel's bed, arms crossed, his gaze steady.
"Tell us more about him."
Daniel looked up at David, "What?" his voice barely above a whisper.
His eyes shimmered—tears threatening to fall, but he blinked them back.
Confusion twisted across his face, not just from the question, but from everything.
His breathing slowed, shallow and uncertain.
"Your father… Was he prior military?"
David asked flatly, arms still crossed, eyes locked onto Daniel like he was trying to read through him.
"David!"
Rachel shot up from her chair. Her voice cut through the room like a blade.
"That's enough."
She stormed toward him, her shoes echoing on the tile. Her posture was tight, furious, but not out of control.
Rachel spun David around to face her, "Can't you see he's distraught?"
Her voice dropped to a sharp whisper, just out of Daniel's earshot.
"This is exactly why I told you to keep your mouth shut."
Her eyes blazed, not with rage, but with control.
David held her gaze.
His expression didn't change.
"What do you suggest we do?"
He glanced over Rachel's shoulder at Daniel, then back at her.
"Sit in silence and—"
"Yes…"
A low, broken voice cut through the tension like a blade dragging across concrete.
They both turned.
Daniel's head was down. His breathing was uneven.
"He served."
Daniel lifted his head slowly.
His face was still dull, eyes glassy with tears he refused to let fall.
But his voice — it carried weight now. Steadier. Firmer.
Rachel and David didn't say a word.
They just stood there, still, listening.
Letting Daniel speak.
"It was before I was born," he started, voice low.
"But yeah. He served."
Daniel's eyes drifted downward, fingers absently fidgeting with the edge of his blanket.
"Silver Squadron… Cross Division. His rank was Captain."
He paused — not for dramatic effect, but because the words felt heavy.
Like dust being blown off a memory he didn't fully understand.
"He only told us one story…"
His throat tightened.
"How he took down an Officer-class Nyxborn by himself. Wane and I used to joke about it — like he was some kind of superhero."
A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth… then disappeared just as fast.
He looked up again, right at David.
Eyes steady.
"That's all I know. So… if that's what you were looking for?"
He shrugged slightly, voice flat.
"There it is."
"I knew something was off…" David muttered under his breath, eyes narrowing.
"Silver Squadron. Dam."
His voice dropped slightly, almost in awe
"I've heard they're like ghosts. Hard to track, harder to see… but him?"
David shook his head slowly.
"He was invisible. No Primal signature. Nothing. I thought he was just some underpowered civilian. But he looked strong. Calm. Carried himself like steel."
He rubbed his chin, now deep in thought.
"And he was a Captain…"
He turned slightly.
"Rachel."
David called out to her.
"Already on it," she said, eyes locked on her tablet, fingers gliding across the screen.
"What?" Rachel's brow furrowed, fingers freezing mid-swipe.
"Is there a problem?" David asked, stepping closer.
Rachel turned the tablet toward them.
Thick black lines.
Entire sections of Jamal's file were covered in redactions.
"Blackouts," Rachel muttered.
"Most of his missions, redacted. Looks like I don't have clearance."
She sighed, setting the tablet down at the foot of Daniel's bed. Her shoulders rolled back with a soft crack, the tension in her frame finally showing.
"Guess this one's above my pay grade," she added, stretching out her arms, her voice dry but curious.
Daniel sat quietly, eyes fixed on the tablet. The mystery of his father—once just a mechanic, just a dad—now painted in shadow.
Who exactly was he?
"When I was in that alleyway… the Nyxborn killed me."
Daniel's voice spoke again, cutting through the room like a sword slash, quiet, but absolute.
"Huh?"
Rachel froze mid-stretch, her eyes locking onto him. The tension in her spine didn't relax.
"Elaborate," David said—calm, but his eyes sharpened like a blade drawn halfway.
Outside Danle room
9:12 PM
"Swoosh!"
The door slid open, slamming against the wall like a gunshot.
"Jamal! Jamal!"
Zuri's voice cracked through the hallway, sharp, urgent, laced with guilt.
She rushed out, her footsteps echoing unevenly.
Jamal sat motionless on the cold metal bench, the same one they had been cuffed to not long ago. His elbows rested on his knees, hands hanging limp between them. His head hung low, eyes hidden beneath his brow, shoulders slumped like the weight of the day had finally crushed him.
Zuri slowed. Her chest rose and fell as she knelt beside him, reaching out.
"Jamal…"
Her voice softened, trembling as she gently took his hand.
He didn't look up.
She gripped it tighter, her own shaking.
"Please talk to me."
She pleaded, her voice cracking as tears welled in her eyes.
Jamal slowly lifted his head.
His gaze met hers.
His face was a mask—blank, unreadable. No anger. No sadness. Just stillness.
But behind those eyes…
A storm.
Rage and sorrow churned like oil and fire. His jaw tightened. His fingers twitched, like he wanted to say something—anything—but the words were lost in the chaos flooding his mind.
He blinked, slow and heavy, as if the air itself was weighing him down.
"I didn't mean to shout at you."
His voice came low, strained, like it hurt just to speak.
"What? No… no, it's not your fault."
Zuri's voice dropped to a soft murmur, her tone calm but fragile, like glass barely holding together.
She lowered her eyes, guilt tightening in her chest.
"I—I shouldn't have lashed out at you like that."
Her breath hitched as the words slipped out, raw and unfiltered.
"I was scared and angry… and I took it out on you."
She looked up slowly, searching his face—not for comfort, but for forgiveness. For a sign that he still saw her as more than just a mistake.
"I'm sorry," she said softly, her voice barely more than a whisper. Her eyes shimmered, locked on his.
She swallowed hard, a lump catching in her throat.
"I never meant to hurt you."
The words lingered in the air, heavy… like they'd been waiting to be said for far too long.
Jamal looked at his wife.
No words. Just silence and understanding.
He reached out, gently taking her hand. His grip was firm.
Without a word, he stood, pulling her up with him.
Zuri stumbled slightly, taken aback.
He wiped the tears from her eyes
And then—
He wrapped his arms around her.
Tight.
"I know,"
He said, his voice calm, low, and steady, like an anchor in a storm.
No anger.
No blame.
Just quiet acceptance… and love.
Jamal's tone shifted—still calm, but firmer now. Serious.
He slowly pulled back from the hug but kept his hands on Zuri's arms.
His gaze didn't waver.
"I know it's hard for you…" Jamal's voice stayed steady, "But Daniel's sixteen now."
He paused, letting it settle between them.
"You can't keep treating him like he's still a baby."
Not harsh.
Just honest.
A truth she didn't want to hear—but needed to.
"But h-he's…"
Zuri's voice faltered, the words catching in her throat as Jamal's truth echoed in her mind.
"I'm sorry, Jamal…"
She shook her head, voice trembling.
"But I don't like the idea of sending our child to war."
She exhaled hard through her nose, steadying herself. Her spine straightened.
That motherly fire flickered back into place.
She gently removed Jamal's hands from her arms and turned away, her back now to him.
Her teeth pressed against the nail of her thumb, biting down hard. Her jaw clenched, her face twisted in a mix of fear and frustration.
"I get it,"
Jamal said softly, the words dragging with fatigue—but behind them was something solid.
"You've lost a lot."
Zuri stopped biting her nail.
"You're the only one left from your family… and you experienced that trauma young. It has never left you since, but if you want that trauma to end."
He took a step closer.
"To end for all of humanity."
A beat.
His eyes stayed fixed on her back.
"I truly believe you need to have faith in our son. At some point, he has to start living his life—not the one shaped by your fear."
He let the words breathe.
"It may seem confusing to you. Hell, it's even for me, but if there's one thing I've learned—it's that people in the military won't lie about things like this."
He exhaled slowly.
"The letter might seem strange. And yeah… they're kids. But they carry themselves like professionals. Something most adults don't have."
He stopped just behind her and placed a hand gently on her shoulder.
She turned to face him, her expression tense, uncertain.
Jamal met her eyes.
"Your trauma…"
His voice dropped low, steady.
"…shouldn't be his."
Zuri looked at him, his words still echoing in her mind.
Memories flickered—every time she'd held Daniel back, smothered him with fear masked as love.
Pain had blinded her.
Her eyes drifted back to Jamal.
But this time, she saw something different.
"I…"
Her lips parted, but the words caught—trapped between doubt and realization.
Her eyes lingered on Jamal.
Not just her husband anymore…
But something steadier.
Something unshakable.
"Okay."
She breathed the word out—soft, almost weightless.
"I'll have faith in him."
She nodded, slow and deliberate.
"And I'll trust them."
A faint smile crossed her lips—tired, but real.
Not born from confidence…
But from courage.
Inside Daniel's Room – 9:21 PM
"I don't understand…"
David's eyes narrowed, fingers brushing his chin.
"What does a tree in a white room have to do with your death?"
Daniel stayed silent. The air was heavy.
Click.
The door opened. Zuri and Jamal stepped inside, shadows stretching across the floor.
"Mom… Dad…" Daniel's voice cracked — not from weakness, but from everything he was holding back.
"Just wait." Zuri lifted a hand, stopping him mid-sentence.
"Before you speak… I need to apologize."
Her steps were slow but certain as she came to his bedside, taking his hand in both of hers.
"Your father made me realize what I've been doing to you," she said, her voice steady — almost.
A hundred moments flashed through her mind: every time she told him no, every time she clipped his wings, thinking she was keeping him safe.
"I've treated you like a child," she said, locking eyes with him.
"Because I was terrified of losing you."
She took a breath.
"From here on out, I'll trust you to make the right decisions… for yourself, and others."
She straightened her back — fear still there, but no longer in control.
This time, she wasn't in his way. She was behind him.
Jamal stepped up, resting a solid hand on her shoulder.
"Wasn't that hard… was it?" he murmured with a faint smirk.
Daniel studied her for a long moment, then smiled softly.
"Thank you… for trusting me."
He tried to get up — and froze.
"Damn. I would hug you, but my legs… I can't move them."
Zuri's concern sharpened instantly. "What do you mean you can't move?"
"Maybe it's his Aura Break."
Jamal said, eyes narrowing as his mind jumped back to what the doctor had told them.
"The doctor told us about it, but I have no clue as to what it means or how he has it."
Zuri looked at Jamal and back at Daniel.
"I hope it's nothing serious," She placed her hand on Daniel's head and gently rubbed it.
"It's not as serious as you think…"
Jamal responded
"Well, that depends on how bad the situation is. By definition, it means his muscle had more primal energy than what he can handle, so the body pushes it out to prevent his muscle from rupturing."
Jamal said, looking at Daniel
"It's also the reason we were able to record his Primal energy and find him."
Rachel added.
"But the officer said there were no injuries," Zuri said, eyes locked on Rachel, concern drawing lines across her face.
"So why can't he move?" she added
Rachel didn't respond right away.
"Hmm…" Jamal rubbed his chin, eyes narrowing in thought.
"We should put that aside for now."
David's voice cut through the room—abrupt and focused.
"Daniel spoke to me and Rachel, after you two left."
David's voice was calm, but there was weight behind it.
He turned to face Zuri and Jamal fully, his eyes locked in with a level seriousness.
Like a man delivering a verdict.
"When Daniel was in that hallway—"
"Hold on—!"
Daniel cut in, his voice sharp.
Everyone turned to him.
He took a slow breath, steadying himself.
"It's better if I explain it."
His tone was calm, measured, and in control.
"It's hard to say,"
"The whole thing feels unreal. In the alley… the Nyxborn killed me. Sent a spear straight through my heart."
"What."
Jamal's eyes widened, his voice caught between confusion and disbelief.
"Wait."
David raised a hand, palm open.
"Let him finish."
"I started to fade," Daniel said quietly.
"I could feel everything slipping… my body going numb, my life draining away. I knew I was dying."
His eyes drifted, somewhere far away.
"Then… I woke up. In a white room."
He paused.
"At first, I thought I was in heaven. That it was over."
His voice grew quieter, more distant.
"Then I heard it—a voice. Loud. Commanding. It echoed from everywhere and nowhere at the same time."
"And then… the tree appeared."
Daniel's brow furrowed, struggling to describe it.
"It came out of nowhere with a gust of breeze."
"One side shimmered with light while the other was dark and violent."
A breath.
His voice softened.
"I touched it."
"And then… I woke up here. In this hospital."
He looked around the room slowly.
"That's all I remember."
"Oh, Daniel… you've been through so much."
Zuri's voice trembled, just barely.
She gently ran her hand across his back to comfort him.
"I cross-checked psychological reports with what Daniel described…"
Rachel said, looking at them
"Nothing. Not a single match."
She turned the device toward them — a blank, white screen glaring back.
"No hallucination patterns. No near-death vision records. Nothing in any database comes close to this."
"Hmm…"
David's eyes narrowed slightly as he turned toward Daniel. He didn't speak — just studied him, that sharp, calculating stare like he was dissecting him without a scalpel.
"So… what does that mean?" Zuri asked, her voice low, wary.
Daniel's gaze stayed fixed on the tablet. When he spoke, his voice was quiet.
"It means…"
He looked up, meeting all their eyes.
"…I'm the one they've been looking for."