{Chapter: 177 - A Father's Instinct And Fighting Field}
"Dad? What are you doing here?" Claire gasped in shock as her eyes fell on the familiar, sharply dressed man standing in the doorway. Her voice cracked with surprise, the kind of startled tone that only came from someone who wasn't expecting their worlds to collide so suddenly.
Noah Bennet stood rigid in the doorway, his breath heavy and his face tight with concern. He wasn't just a man in glasses tonight—he was a father. A deeply worried father. His eyes scanned the room before resting on Claire, focusing not on her face first, but on her clothes, her posture, her breathing. Years of fieldwork taught him to read a situation in seconds.
"Dear… are you okay?" His voice came out low, laced with caution, his gaze narrowing with protective scrutiny.
Claire blinked, taken aback by the mixture of warmth and tension in his tone. "I—I'm fine, Dad," she said, shaking her head and instinctively stepping between him and Aiden. Her heart was thudding faster now. She could feel the collision of two worlds—her hidden self and the man who raised her—meeting head-on. "He didn't… I mean, it's not what you think. He helped me."
Noah hesitated, eyes locked on hers. Then, gently but firmly, he said, "Sweetheart, could you give us a moment? I need to speak to him alone."
Claire's heart sank. She knew that tone. Her father was calm, but that calm was the eye of the storm. She glanced nervously at Aiden, unsure if she should stay or leave.
Aiden gave her a reassuring smile, the same calm confidence that had drawn her to him in the first place. "It's okay, Claire. I'll talk to him."
Claire bit her lip, then nodded slowly. "Alright… I'll be outside." Her eyes lingered on Aiden for a second longer before she quietly exited the room, the door clicking shut behind her.
The second she was gone, the air inside the room changed. The fatherly warmth Noah had shown vanished in an instant. His brows furrowed into a hard line, and in one swift, trained motion, he grabbed the front of Aiden's shirt and shoved him against the wall.
"Who the hell are you," he growled, "and what did you do to my daughter?"
Aiden didn't resist. He calmly raised his hands, not as a gesture of surrender, but to diffuse the situation. He looked Noah in the eye, seeing not just the intensity but the pain—the fear of a father who had spent years lying to the world to keep his daughter safe.
"You're a good man, Mr. Bennet," Aiden said softly, brushing Noah's grip away and smoothing down his shirt. "And a better father. I don't blame you for reacting like this."
Noah didn't back down. His stance was sharp, calculating—he was still on high alert. "Answer the question."
Aiden sighed, still calm. "You heard the end of something you didn't understand. It sounded bad, I admit. 'It hurts… don't move… ahh!'" He let out a chuckle at the absurdity. "If I were you, I would've kicked down the door, too."
But Noah didn't laugh. He was still deadly serious. "Start talking. Now."
"My name is Aiden," he said, his voice calm, deliberate. "And I'm not your enemy."
"That's not an answer," Noah snapped.
"Alright." Aiden leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice. "I'm someone who's trying to help Claire. To help her control what she is. And unlike you, I'm not doing it by locking her away from the world."
Noah flinched slightly, but he didn't look away. "You don't know what you're talking about."
"Oh, but I do," Aiden said, his eyes now sharp. "You work for Primatech Paper—at least that's the front. The truth is, you're part of a global operation that monitors and studies people like Claire. 'Evolved humans,' I believe your team calls them. You track, capture, sometimes contain… and sometimes worse. You were there the day Claire fell from the Ferris wheel. You saw what she could survive. I know everything about you, Mr. Bennet."
Noah's face paled slightly. His instincts kicked in. He reached for his side holster.
But Aiden was faster.
Before Noah could draw the gun, it lifted into the air—snatched away by invisible force—and flew into Aiden's waiting hand.
Noah froze.
Aiden inspected the pistol with an almost casual air. Then, without warning, he pointed it at his own palm and pulled the trigger.
Pah!
The sound was muffled, suppressed—but still sharp enough to echo slightly in the quiet hotel room. The bullet buried into Aiden's hand, but there was no blood.
S
"You…" Noah's voice faltered for a moment as he stared at Aiden, confused. His grip on reality, on what he'd just witnessed, wavered.
Why did he shoot himself?
Before he could make sense of it, he saw Aiden calmly opening his palm—fingers slowly unfurling like a stage curtain being drawn back. A mangled, dented bullet tumbled out, clinking softly as it hit the wooden floor. There was a faint trace of blood on his skin, but even that was vanishing before Noah's eyes. The small wound in Aiden's palm knitted itself shut in seconds, leaving no mark, no scar—nothing but flawless skin.
Noah took a slow step back, his instincts flaring.
"This ability... it feels good," Aiden murmured, rotating his wrist slightly, admiring the regenerative process with a scientist's curiosity and a predator's satisfaction. "Better than I expected."
The sensation coursing through his veins was exhilarating. Claire's healing factor—once an anomaly in the world—was now synchronizing with his Extremis-enhanced physiology. The fusion wasn't instant, but he could feel the change already taking root, flowing through him like molten energy—controlled, directed, precise. There was none of the dizzying side effects he'd felt before with other integrations. This one was cleaner… more compatible.
He turned to Noah, his tone turning casual. "You asked what I did to Claire?" He smiled—not in mockery, but in honest admission. "I took her ability."
Noah stiffened. His pupils shrank. The room felt ten degrees colder.
"What did you just say…?" His voice was almost a whisper.
Aiden repeated it slowly, purposefully. "I took her ability."
Noah's heart sank. His mind raced through every scenario, every threat protocol. One name came to mind immediately—one that haunted his nightmares.
"You… you're Sylar?" he asked, almost unwilling to breathe the word.
Sylar.
The name was enough to freeze blood. A serial killer among evolved humans. Known for his grotesque method of acquiring powers—cutting open skulls with surgical precision, studying the brain like an engineer examining clockwork, and absorbing their gifts. Cold, brilliant, and ruthless.
He didn't just kill. He understood. His power, Intuitive Aptitude, was as terrifying as it was rare. A monstrous gift that allowed him to understand any system—technological or biological—and manipulate it at will. It was whispered he could see the universe like a machine... and break it apart one cog at a time.
Aiden raised an eyebrow. "Sylar? Please." His voice had a trace of amusement, but his posture was unthreatening. "If I were Sylar, would Claire still be alive? You saw her. She's unharmed, healthy, and a bit red in the cheeks, sure… but that's normal teenage crush behavior."
Noah didn't laugh. But his shoulders dropped an inch. The tension in his brow softened—ever so slightly.
Still, he didn't holster his weapon.
"I can take abilities," Aiden clarified, "but I don't need to cut anyone open to do it. My process is... cleaner. Claire didn't suffer. She doesn't even know yet."
Noah gave him a long, unreadable stare. His training warred with his emotions. Aiden had clearly touched on classified intel. Claire's true nature, her adoption, the nature of his work at Primatech—all buried beneath government secrecy. Yet here this stranger stood, peeling it back with ease.
"I don't expect you to trust me," Aiden continued. "Hell, if our roles were reversed, I'd have shot me twice by now. But I'm not here to hurt Claire. In fact… our goals aren't so different, Mr. Bennet."
---
Outside the Room
Claire sat outside in the hallway, legs pulled up, arms hugging her knees as she leaned back against the cold drywall. The light above her flickered—one of those old yellow hallway bulbs that buzzed slightly when no one spoke.
She stared blankly at her phone screen. No notifications. Not that she'd expected any.
She couldn't hear the exact words from inside, but she caught the tones: her father's urgency, Aiden's steady calm. It made her stomach flutter with nervous heat.
It brought her back—back to Odessa, to days filled with secrets and questions. The car crash that should've killed her. The first time she jumped from the oil rig. The day she plunged scissors into her own chest in front of the camera just to prove to herself that she really was something other.
Back then, everything felt like a lie. The world, her family, even her body.
But then she met him.
Aiden hadn't recoiled from her. He didn't stare at her like she was something broken or dangerous. His eyes didn't carry fear or curiosity—they held recognition. As if he understood what it meant to walk through fire and never burn.
And he never tried to control her. Never tried to wrap her in bubble wrap like her dad always did. With Aiden, she felt seen. Not as a cheerleader with a secret. But as Claire—just Claire.
She bit her bottom lip, cheeks turning warm. Maybe it was stupid… but part of her—still the wide-eyed teenager from her freshman year—wondered what it would feel like to reach out and hold his hand.
Not because she needed protection… but because she wanted him to know she trusted him.
—
Back in the Room
Noah's eyes finally lowered. He said nothing, but he slowly reached forward and reclaimed his pistol from Aiden, who offered it back without resistance.
The moment was heavy. Trust had not been granted—but a truce had been forged.
Without a word, Noah walked past him and opened the door. Claire looked up, startled. He offered her a weak smile. "Everything's okay, Pumpkin," he said in that gentle dad voice she hadn't heard in months.
"Are you sure?" she asked, eyes flicking toward Aiden over his shoulder.
Aiden stepped into view and smiled faintly. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes… they lingered on her for a heartbeat longer than necessary.
Claire forgot to breathe.
Noah exhaled and gave Aiden a final glance, one that said We're not done. Then he turned, motioned for Claire, and they walked down the hall together.
Claire glanced back once—just once.
Aiden raised his hand in a quiet wave.
---
Aiden Alone
He stepped to the window, watching the father and daughter get into the car. Claire sat in the passenger seat, still looking back at the building, wondering what exactly had just happened.
The corner of Aiden's lips tugged up in amusement.
[Claire Bennet friendship has increased by 30%. Current friendship: 95%. The Fighting Field Knight has been unlocked!]
The familiar tone of the system echoed in his mind, mechanical yet warm.
Aiden leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms. "It's useless to unlock it if it doesn't mean anything."
[The Fighting Field is more than just combat. When you enter the Field, the current state of the Knight is recorded. If you ever revisit a past version of this timeline, the state can be updated. Fighting alongside or against a character increases friendship. The higher the friendship, the greater the odds they can be brought out of the world with you.]
That last part made him pause.
Bring someone out of the world?
Out of space and time?
Now that… was interesting.
Aiden's smile deepened. "Then maybe Claire won't just be a memory when this is all over."
He sat down, eyes flicking to the menu. If this system was willing to turn friendship into currency and time into leverage… then maybe, just maybe, he could turn this whole twisted world into something better.
Or something worse.
Either way, it was going to be fun.