Chapter 30 - Chapter 30 – New Eyes on the Board

Wednesday, May 29th, 2013 – Oakwood Highschool Academy

The sky was clear, and sunlight filtered through the trees in Oakwood's courtyard, casting golden patches on the ground. In the main hallway, the morning buzz blended lively conversations, hurried footsteps, and the muffled sound of lockers slamming shut.

Viktor Ramsay paused by the gate for a moment, adjusting the blazer of his uniform. His eyes calmly scanned the environment, as if mapping every detail — the placement of cameras, the flow of students, the familiar faces already woven into the school's routine. To anyone else, he was just the new kid. But to him… this was a field of observation.

Kiana wasn't exaggerating, he thought, watching him step into the courtyard. Vortex — Viktor — is here. And now there's another pair of eyes on everything.

The day before, she had been very clear:

"He's transferring in tomorrow. Just keep an eye out and don't act weird when he's around. He's sharp."

Kai leaned against one of the benches, with Cassie and Kiana seated nearby. The two exchanged occasional remarks, but it was impossible not to notice that Kiana, almost naturally, was always close to him.

Viktor crossed the courtyard without rushing. He didn't have the vibe of someone nervous about being in a new school. Quite the opposite — there was a lazy confidence in his stride, like someone who knew exactly where he was stepping. When his eyes landed on the sight of Kiana next to Kai — and the way she held herself — he raised an eyebrow, mentally registering the detail. Not with certainty… but suspicion.

Weird. But I don't know how she acts here, so maybe it's nothing. What matters now is figuring out who the top dogs are.

A few minutes later, a student escort led Viktor to the second-year classroom. Upon entering, he made no effort to introduce himself. Robert Wanri, sitting by the window, just cast a quick glance before going back to his conversation. Some of the other students, however, already started chatting him up — commenting on his build or trying to guess where he might fall in the ranking.

"Weird time to switch schools, huh?" asked a tall guy in the front row. "There's just a few weeks left 'til break."

"Yeah," Viktor replied casually, taking a moment as he scanned the room. "My old school already wrapped up. Figured it'd be smart to start here early — get used to things, see how it works, y'know?"

"Makes sense. This is Oakwood, after all — better to be ready. I'm Jimmy, by the way." The guy was still sizing him up.

"Viktor." He offered a subtle smile, then asked, "Who's the guy in the corner with everyone buttering him up?"

"Oh, that's Robert. He's fourth in the school ranking. You're better off stepping lightly around him."

"Got it." Viktor glanced at Robert, and for a brief second their eyes met. He winked with a dry smirk, then turned back to Jimmy.

The conversation fizzled, but he noticed a few others were still eyeing him with curiosity.

Robert continued chatting with a classmate, and Viktor let the ambient sounds fill the space as he observed the room's interaction patterns. Who looked at whom. Who avoided who. Who dominated the talk. Every detail was noted and sorted almost effortlessly.

No rush. He knew that sooner or later, if something was off about this school, it would show itself. And if it didn't… he already knew how to give it a little push.

Back in the courtyard, the morning routine carried on. Kai adjusted his backpack over one shoulder, carefully avoiding eye contact with Viktor. He knew that, from now on, every move would be watched by one more observer.

Same day – After School – The Grayson Residence – 1:12 PM

The door creaked softly as Kai pushed it open. The midday heat still clung to his skin, but the cool air from the AC wrapped around him as he stepped inside. He dropped his backpack on the couch, already thinking about locking himself in his room for the rest of the afternoon.

"You're home early today." Nolan was in the kitchen, seated at the table with a half-finished mug of coffee. The bitter aroma lingered in the air, mixing with the distant sound of the TV.

"Yeah. No boxing club practice today." Kai grabbed a glass from the cupboard and opened the fridge, the soft clink of the door breaking the silence.

"Sunglasses, huh? Ah, now I get why Mark was asking for a pair yesterday." Nolan stood with his usual calm and leaned against the counter. "Got a minute?"

"Sure. They were a gift — turned out useful with this annoying sun," Kai replied, turning to face him, the sunglasses clipped to his shirt pocket.

"How's school?" Nolan stirred his coffee, the spoon clinking lightly.

"Normal." Kai shrugged, sipping his water. "Nothing unusual."

"You sure?" Nolan raised an eyebrow, watching him over the rim of his cup. "Haven't noticed anything… strange lately? New people, weird behavior?"

Kai's stomach tightened. "Not that I noticed." He kept his tone casual, but his mind was racing. Why is he asking this?

Nolan dropped the spoon into the sink with a metallic clink. "What about teenagers with powers? Ever hear of anything like that going around?"

Kai's heart skipped. He placed the glass on the counter, staring at Nolan a second too long.

He knows…

"No," he replied, a bit too defensive — even to his own ears.

"You know…" Nolan leaned on the counter, watching him like someone gauging reactions. "Some folks mentioned kids getting into trouble. Using abilities they don't really understand. Thought you might've seen something… or know someone."

Kai looked away, weighing his words before speaking. "I… maybe saw a few things. But it's not like I know anyone like that."

He raised his eyes again, locking them on Nolan's.

The silence that followed compressed the air between them. Nolan was still watching — and Kai could feel the confession rising in his throat.

If I lie, it'll be worse.

And knowing him… he'll corner me until I confess.

Nolan picked up the mug again, rotating it slightly in his hands — as if waiting.

"Sometimes it's hard to notice when something strange is right in front of us," he said, tone casual. "You're observant. Figured maybe you'd caught on."

No… this isn't just curiosity. He's confirming something.

Is he going to try taking over the planet now? What is he planning?

"No," Kai replied again, his voice sharper than intended.

Nolan's eyes narrowed slightly. "Alright… and if you had seen something, you'd tell me, right?"

Kai took a deep breath.

He knew — the moment he had tried to avoid ever since arriving in this world… had come.

If Nolan still intended to conquer Earth, maybe — maybe — Kai could win.

Cosmic said I had what, a 5% chance?

Maybe it's better to tell him everything now… Maybe he gave up on that mission.

He doesn't seem like the same man from Rock Cliff.

But each word felt like a step past the point of no return.

The memory of Nolan slamming the earth that day flashed through Kai's mind.

The silence stretched, painfully long.

No matter the outcome, he's still been a better father than the one I had in my past life. At least this one was… present, even if just a little.

There's nowhere left to run.

"Dad, I…" he began, his usual composure gone.

He leaned on the counter and looked him in the eye.

Like ripping off a band-aid…

Then Nolan smiled.

"Good. So you don't know anything. That means it's no one from your class."

He stepped away, finishing his coffee."Just had to check. Cecil, that government guy, asked yesterday. He's worried about some reports coming in to the GDA."

Kai stood frozen, cold sweat trickling down his spine.

He didn't know whether to feel relieved… or furious at himself.

It wasn't about me.

I almost ruined everything.

He stood there a moment longer…

Then opened the cupboard and pulled out a box of chamomile tea.

"Got it," he finally said, forcing a neutral tone.

"Great." Nolan nodded lightly, as if the matter was closed. "Tea at this hour? No coffee? There's still some in the pot if you want."

"Nah. I'm calling it a day. Had enough excitement lately."

Kai let out a slow breath as his heart began to settle. On the outside, it was just another conversation. On the inside, a reminder: sooner or later, their game of guessing would end — and one of them would have to show their cards.

But thankfully, today wasn't that day.

In that brief moment of conversation, for the first time, Kai felt afraid of losing what he had there.

Mark got home not long after, dropping his backpack on the couch and popping his head into their room with a grin that spelled mischief. He spent a few minutes trying to drag him into something — until his attention shifted elsewhere.

Kai shot him his usual teasing look.

"So… heard you're after sunglasses now," he said.

Mark rolled his eyes with a groan. "Ugh, seriously? Was it Mom or Dad who told you?"

"Gonna copy me in everything now?" Kai asked again, mocking.

"Obviously. Except I can'tcopy everything, right? You've got a girlfriend and didn't tell anyone," Mark replied with a smirk.

The front door opened before Kai could respond, announcing Debbie's return. Mark seized the moment to shout across the house:

"Mom! Kai's got a girlfriend!"

Kai didn't even sigh. He just walked calmly to the kitchen and dismantled the accusation with plain facts — same calm tone as always. Mark made a face of defeat, and the routine slid back into its usual rhythm.

The next few days followed that pace.

At Oakwood, Viktor was already making waves before the break — provoking seniors and, on three separate occasions, managing to get under Robert's skin. That was enough for the Ranked to accept a duel with the second-year newbie.

Whispers about the new kid spread through the halls like wildfire.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the city, Chris, Scott, Bruce, and Russell were tightening their new scheme. With every move, their resolve deepened — and in the background, they all wanted one thing:

Find Grey. The one who had shaken up most of the school gangs.

Partly because it was messing with their distribution — fewer reliable hands to move product.

But for Bruce… it was personal.

That bastard had laid a hand on his Charlize.

A Few Days Later… Friday, June 7th, 2013 – GDA Headquarters – 7:01 PM

The constant hum of servers and the cold glow of screens filled the command room. Cecil stood with both hands on the edge of the holographic table, the map of the city spread out in shades of blue and red.

"We've got a robbery in progress on West Adams Street. Chemical storage facility with controlled substances and high-grade tech components." His voice was steady, but there was a hint of anticipation in it. "Preliminary report suggests some of the suspects may have powers… or at least high-end gear."

Mirage stood with arms crossed.

"We don't know who they are or where they came from. But they're fast and know exactly what to take. This isn't your run-of-the-mill break-in," she said.

Cecil glanced at her.

"We're sending the Young Team. Time to see if they're ready for something more serious. Your thoughts, since you've been training them?"

Mirage nodded and activated each of their comms from her tablet.

"They're ready. I'll go with them — just in case. Make sure no hostages get hurt... It's been a while since I stepped onto the field."

The sound of the automatic doors closing echoed down the corridor — sealing the beginning of a mission with no room for mistakes.

Friday, June 7th, 2013 – Chicago, Illinois – 7:42 PM

The sky glowed orange and purple as the sun sank over the horizon. In a quiet area, where the city noise faded into a distant murmur, Kai was training alone. The sharp thud of his fists against a concrete block cracked through the air, followed by the faint echo of wind.

On the ground, resting against a rock, lay his backpack — and on top of it, the sunglasses Kiana had given him, reflecting the final golden rays of the day.

"Why does the sun set so late at this time of year?" he complained, muttering to himself.

He paused for a moment, breathing deeply. That's when he noticed the faint blinking light on the side of the bag — a rhythmic blue glow, accompanied by a subtle tone. It was the communicator Cosmic had left him… something he barely ever used.

Kai frowned. Mission.

He picked it up, put it to his ear, listened — then carefully returned it.

His first instinct was simple: Ignore it. Not my problem.

But when his gaze drifted over the sunglasses again, something inside him hesitated. The dark lenses reflected the warm sunset… and brought back recent memories — Kiana, her teasing, and the way she had thanked him when giving the gift.

He let out a long sigh.

"Just in case…" he muttered, putting the communicator back on.

The air felt colder as he stood.

Training could wait.

Friday, June 7th, 2013 – West Adams Street – 8:04 PM

The metallic clank of the side door being busted open echoed through the dim factory, followed by a gust of wind that sent leaves and dust swirling through the hallway.

Atlas was first in. His massive frame pushed forward like a living wall, and before the nearest thief could raise his weapon, a punch launched him into a stack of metal drums, the clang reverberating through the warehouse.

"Two to the left!" Ghost Girl reported through comms, already invisible and darting along the walls. A second later, one man was yanked back by his collar and slammed into concrete, unconscious. The other fired blindly — and was dropped by a sweeping kick from nowhere.

From above, Silver advanced along the catwalks, her silver blade now glowing faintly blue — syncing with a nearby power source. She leapt, spinning midair, and sliced through the barrel of a shotgun like butter. The residual charge surged through the metal and into the man's body — dropping him in convulsions.

Vortex followed close behind, twisting his body in a rapid motion. Air compressed into a focused vortex — the swirling sphere distorted the air before exploding into a trio of enemies, hurling them into a pile of crates. The impact sounded like muffled thunder.

"Watch the one with the red mask!" Reflex called out. She lunged forward, her body splitting into a translucent double that intercepted a beam of energy from one of the powered thieves. The blast shattered the copy into fragments of light — but Reflex had already swapped places, landing an upward kick straight to the man's jaw and sending him crashing backward.

Atlas smirked slightly, his eyes starting to glow red. Twin beams lashed out and struck a henchman trying to escape along the side path. The scent of scorched metal filled the air.

"Eight neutralized. Next."

News drones hovered outside, and a press helicopter's spotlight bathed the yard in sharp light, casting shifting shadows throughout the factory.

Mirage, crouched at the top of a maintenance ladder, watched everything unfold coldly. She didn't hesitate — leaping silently, rolling across the floor, and sliding toward the locked door where 26 employees were being held.

Behind her, the muffled chaos continued.

Inside, only one armed guard stood watch — fingers tapping the trigger impatiently. And he had no idea his time was up.

The air in the hostage room was thick with fear. The smell of oil and steel mixed with the sweat of twenty-six workers huddled against the wall. The masked guard held his weapon steady, but his left hand twitched from nerves.

Mirage slipped in unnoticed, emerging through the cracked door's shadow. She read the man instantly — weight shifting, stiff shoulders, shallow breath.

Fast… but jumpy.

The man turned — too late.

Mirage was on him, but he reacted on instinct, thrusting an open palm forward in a blinding white flash. A blast of force slammed her into a metal cabinet.

Pain shot through her ribs, but she rolled and rose, pistol already drawn. Two sharp shots rang out — but the man raised his arm, deflecting them with a translucent barrier. Mirage surged forward, her holster scraping the floor, diving beneath the next blow.

He brought his arm down like a hammer, cracking the floor. Mirage planted her foot on the wall and spun, landing a kick to his chin. The impact staggered him — but he grinned, blood trailing from his lips.

The fight turned into a storm of motion: she weaved low, struck from sharp angles; he countered with shockwaves that bent the air. Each time his barrier rose, she changed rhythm — elbow, knee, a spinning tonfa strike. One hit rebounded off the shield — but gave her just enough momentum to twist and land a hit behind his guard.

He stumbled. Mirage pressed forward — punch to the gut, knee to the chin, spinning kick to the temple. A sharp crack echoed as he collapsed, unconscious.

The hostages gasped in unison — some already crying in relief.

"You're safe now. Head to the emergency exit," Mirage instructed, activating her comm.

Downstairs, the fight raged on.

Reflex retreated as two powered thugs advanced in tandem — one with rock-like skin, the other projecting arcs of electricity from his hands. Blue sparks danced along the walls as Silver descended from the catwalks, her blade white-hot after tapping into a severed wire.

Vortex raised his arms, condensing air into a slicing wave that struck the stone-skinned man. The sparks bounced off, but the impact knocked him off balance. Reflex took the opening, creating two copies — one in front to draw attention, one to the right to flank.

Ghost Girl flickered between columns, taking out armed henchmen before they could react. One toppled backwards, weapon flying from his grasp, and she vanished again into smoke and gunfire.

The electric villain fired a shockwave through the metallic floor. Silver drove her blade down, grounding the current through the handle. A moment later, she leapt and slashed his shoulder — the scent of ozone mingling with scorched steel.

Reflex switched places with a clone just before a crushing blow landed from the stone brute — reappearing behind him and driving her knee into his spine. He roared, spinning and smashing through a stack of crates.

The brute staggered, cracking his knuckles as dust fell from his shoulders. 

"You're gonna regret that, little girl," he growled, voice like gravel.

Beside him, the lightning wielder grinned wide, sparks dancing across his palms. 

"Oh yeah… time to turn up the voltage."

Vortex compressed air into a dense sphere, spinning like a buzz saw.

"Now!" he shouted.

Silver dashed aside, and Vortex launched the sphere — it detonated against the villain's chest, launching him into a support beam.

The brute groaned, slamming his fist into the floor to steady himself. 

"You think that's enough to stop me?!" he bellowed, half dazed but still rising.

Elsewhere in the warehouse, Atlas stood amidst three armed goons, grinning at the drone overhead. He grabbed one by the vest and spun, throwing him like a discus into the other two, toppling them in a heap. Then, he punched the floor — fracturing the concrete and sending debris into the air — all timed perfectly for the drone's overhead shot.

Using his X-ray vision, he spotted a fleeing criminal near the back exit. He didn't alert the others. Just watched… calculating the perfect distance.

Let him run. The cameras outside will get a better shot.

He smirked again, adjusted his stance, and went back to his little show — each punch more dramatic than the last, spinning kicks, exaggerated throws, all perfectly staged for the viewers at home.

The night sky mirrored the city's amber glow, but Kai's focus was locked on the factory. Flying low and silent, he had a clear vantage point of the chaos inside.

The Six Eyes activated — the world sharpened. Every quick breath, every twitch of a weapon, every dust mote in the wind lit up in his vision.

Through the open comms, the team's panting and half-cut commands rang out:

"Silver, right side!"

"Reflex, hold him!"

"Ghost, disarm the—" static.

Kai saw it all like a disordered board. Silver and Reflex moved fast, but not in sync; Ghost Girl phased in and out of key spots, but lacked full coverage; and Vortex, while efficient, left flanks exposed.

Meanwhile, Atlas was off in his own stage — the drones hovering above, lights gleaming on his armor. He flattened basic thugs with overkill: a punch launching someone into a container stack, a kick blowing through a rusted gate — all for the camera.

In that gap — that break in formation — Kai noticed them: two men escaping out the back hallway. One carried a black case; the other, a heavy-duty pistol.

Not happening.

You're not even reaching the corner.

Kai dove.

The rush of wind cracked the air like a muted thunderclap — and then he was in front of them before they knew what hit them. One palm strike to the chest knocked the breath from the first, and a swift arm lock brought the second to the ground, disarmed in one clean move.

In under four seconds, both were out cold.

A nearby drone caught the moment in full frame: the tousled white hair, the glowing blue eyes, the dark uniform casting a shadow over the unconscious men.

Inside, through X-ray vision, Atlas saw it. His jaw clenched.

"That white-haired guy again… stealing my spotlight. I was waiting for the perfect moment... Damn it," he muttered, irritated.

After securing the two suspects, Kai launched straight toward the main entrance.

Time to join the fight.

Inside, the sound was a mix of twisting metal, bursts of wind, warning shots, and muffled shouts.

Kai landed between Silver and one of the remaining powered villains — a man with hardened skin and arms like hammers.

Silver spun her electricity-infused blade through the air, and Kai matched her rhythm, their steps syncing in what looked like an unchoreographed — yet flawless — dance. When she struck high, he swept low; when he advanced, she fell back to cover him.

The synergy caught Vortex's attention. While still engaged with the electric-powered enemy, he glanced briefly at the duo. The wind around his hands trembled with intensity. No way… they must know each other.

A vague memory flickered — Silver talking to a certain boy back at school.

Kai dodged a wide blow, grabbed the villain's arm, and hurled him into a piece of machinery. The impact rattled the floor. Silver leapt over, plunging her electrified blade into the villain's shoulder. He let out a scream before collapsing, unconscious.

With one less opponent, pressure on the team dropped. Reflex and Ghost Girl swiftly dealt with the remaining henchmen, taking them out in quick succession.

After the last one hit the ground, Ghost Girl looked toward Silver and the unfamiliar boy.

"Who's that? New member?"

Reflex stepped beside her, tossing one of the goon's weapons aside.

"That's the guy who saved us back when that massive creature showed up in Chicago — and you didn't," she added with a teasing jab.

Ghost Girl looked at her, guilt flashing across her face.

"It wasn't my choice. My mom didn't let me leave the house. I didn't even know what was going on."

Reflex laughed.

"Yeah, yeah, we know. Just messing with you. That's Grey. He's not really on the team, but… he shows up sometimes."

As the two resumed their positions, Ghost Girl's gaze lingered on Grey.

He feels familiar. I swear I've seen him somewhere before…

On the other side of the room, Atlas — having missed his perfect moment — decided to act with the final powered villain. In a blink, he lunged forward, grabbed the man by the collar, and launched into the sky with him.

The cameras followed.

The flight was short but brutal. Atlas soared high enough for the city lights to become a distant mosaic — then dove, hurling the villain into the asphalt below, creating a crater. The man tried to rise, but Atlas slammed a punch into his face, then another into his gut, finishing with a kick that sent him skidding across the pavement.

The villain, still clinging to consciousness thanks to his powers, drew a heavy weapon in desperation.

His hands trembled, blood dripping from his fingers as he aimed blindly, breathing ragged.

But before he could pull the trigger, a red beam sliced through the air.

Atlas' laser vision split the gun in half. A second, precisely aimed shot pierced the man's abdomen — non-lethal, but enough to knock him out cold.

Atlas raised his arms, facing the cameras.

The perfect image of a hero — or at least, the one he wanted everyone to see.

The mechanical hum of the drones swarmed above the factory.

Reporters clustered behind police barricades, microphones raised, cameras flashing non-stop.

The main doors opened, and one by one, the Young Team stepped out —

Silver wiping her still-sparking blade; Vortex rotating his shoulder, wearing a smug look; Reflex leaning slightly on Vortex, panting but composed; and Ghost Girl phasing in and out to dodge the media flashes.

Right behind them, Grey emerged. His white hair and dark uniform caught the lights like a spotlight, and his piercing blue eyes stood out even from a distance. A murmur rippled through the crowd — but he didn't stick around.

He flew off before anyone could get a proper photo.

Inside, medics escorted the hostages out — shaken but unharmed. Mirage walked with them, speaking briefly to an agent while doing a final headcount.

The reporters had thousands of questions.

"Who's the white-haired kid?"

"Is he a new team member?"

"Who's stronger, him or Atlas?"

"Will Mirage join the Young Team permanently?"

Atlas came out last, carrying the final defeated villain like a trophy before dropping him at the feet of the GDA tactical team. He lifted his chin and waved to the cameras with a perfectly calculated smile — soaking up the spotlight.

GDA Headquarters – Monitoring Room

The main panel displayed multiple angles — drone feeds, factory security cameras, even press coverage.

Donald, arms crossed, commented without looking away from the screen.

"No casualties, hostages unharmed, all targets captured. Not every day a high-risk mission ends like this."

Cecil leaned back in his chair, lighting a cigar.

"Looks like putting the kids in the field is paying off."

He exhaled slowly, eyes fixed on the footage of Grey neutralizing the fugitives.

"If we could replicate this… we'd have more squads like this across the country."

Mirage appeared in one of the camera feeds, greeting medics. Donald tilted his head.

"Without her, I doubt they would've kept all the hostages alive."

Cecil gave a faint smile.

"That's why we still need anchors. The youth have power — but they're still chaotic. That's where the veterans come in. Still… I want more teams like this."

Back at the factory – Exterior

While Atlas gave quick interviews and posed for photos under the bright spotlights, Grey was already far from the scene — communicator removed, heading toward where he had left his bag.

Near the entrance, Silver stood with the rest of the Young Team, exchanging a few words with Vortex. He made light jabs about how well she seemed to "know the white-haired guy," though his eyes kept flicking discreetly toward Reflex with a barely-there smirk.

The distant hum of news helicopters lingered in the sky, blending with the scent of burnt metal and industrial oil. The mission was over… at least in the public eye. Behind the cameras, however, a quiet tension grew.

Atlas didn't bother hiding his irritation at the attention Grey had stolen — despite not being an "official" part of the operation.

In the following days, the West Adams Street mission dominated the news and social media.

From the outside, there were no flaws — just a picture-perfect, coordinated, victorious Young Team.

Clips from every angle flooded the internet:

Silver snapping a weapon mid-air with a fluid strike; Reflex appearing behind a thug as if she materialized from nowhere; Ghost Girl suddenly dropping two armed men; Vortex bringing down an improvised wall with a slicing gust of wind.

But the most-shared video?

Atlas, hurling a thug upward, then finishing him with a clean laser slice — even earning applause from sports commentators.

Still, another clip began gaining traction — the moment the "white-haired guy" disarmed two fleeing enemies and stormed into the factory to fight alongside Silver. Speculation ran wild:

"Is Grey joining the Young Team?"

"Is Grey stronger than Atlas?"

Fans argued over rankings and even launched impromptu polls to vote "the strongest" among Atlas, Vortex, and the mysterious newcomer.

The next day, a short — clearly prepared — video appeared on Atlas' official profile.

Wearing a flawless uniform and wearing a carefully crafted smile, he stared into the camera like he was talking directly to every follower.

"Hey everyone, I've seen a lot of buzz about Grey, so let me explain. We're on different paths. I work with the Young Team in official missions — saving lives in real, high-risk situations. Grey… well, he's not officially part of the team. His thing is more about smaller stuff — like school gang conflicts as some of you may have heard in rumors."

Atlas paused briefly, almost dramatically, then continued, "but at the end of the day, it's not about who's stronger. What matters is, I was there to save the day. And I always will be."

He finished with a wink so rehearsed it could've been ripped from a commercial — yet it still drew loud cheers from some fans.

Comments were divided: half praising Atlas, half defending Grey — pointing out the not-so-subtle jab.

And so, between flashy videos, trending hashtags, and heated debates over who truly deserved the title of "strongest young hero," the city moved on… unaware of what was really happening behind the scenes.

A few days after the mission...

Tuesday, June 11th, 2013 – Oakwood Highschool

Afternoon sunlight filtered through the wide windows of the main hallway, casting beams of light on the polished floor. The muffled sound of voices and footsteps echoed through the building as students dispersed to clubs and extracurriculars.

Around 1 PM, after classes had ended, Viktor walked a few paces behind Kiana, pretending to scroll through his phone. His excuse was vague — something about "checking out boxing practice" — but it was clear his interest lay elsewhere.

Inside the gym, the scent of sweat, canvas, and chalk hung in the air, underscored by the rhythmic thwack of gloves hitting sandbags.

Kai was there, training in a corner — and compared to three months ago, he looked… normal. Surrounded by fellow boxing club members, focused, composed, still following Cassie's guidance with precision.

Viktor leaned against a pillar, quietly observing — as if comparing every detail to past memories. It didn't take long before a thought surfaced...

That same precise movements… that same look… just like when I saw Grey and Silver fighting together.

Kai noticed him but stayed in routine. Deviating now would raise suspicion.

Training continued until the end, with students leaving in ones and twos. Once the last footsteps faded down the hall, Kai grabbed his bag and left.

Viktor followed at a distance. Only the hollow echo of their sneakers broke the silence between them — until, suddenly, Viktor pressed the emergency button on his Young Team communicator.

Kai, midway through the corridor, felt the faint buzz in his pocket. Slowly, he took it out — eyebrows furrowing at the blinking red light.

Slip-up. For someone always on guard… this one stung.

That's when Viktor stepped into the hallway, wearing a half-smile.

"I knew it."

Kai stared back, still holding the communicator.

Shit…

On the other end, Mirage's voice crackled in.

"What's happening? Emergency call received — I'm mobilizing the team."

The stare between Kai and Viktor was tense, heavy — like neither wanted to blink first.

Viktor lifted his own communicator to his ear.

"Vortex here. Sorry. Pressed it by accident."

A sharp exhale from Mirage.

"You never fail to outdo yourself with this recklessness. Damn it, Vortex! This is not a game! How do you accidentally press something for 5 seconds?"

"My bad, my bad…" he replied, pressing the comm again.

"Don't let it happen again."

The click that followed made the silence between them even heavier. Viktor stood still for a moment, as if debating how to start.

"You know… your blue power— When I first got into this hero thing, I couldn't control mine. Rushed in, nearly died on my first mission."

Kai said nothing — just watched him.

He could've said something in the comm… but that doesn't mean he won't.

"I remember that day. I saw that blue glow in the alley… and the guy passed out after. And then the giant creature — when Atlas bailed and you stayed. Whether you like it or not, that means you saved me twice. I can be a jerk sometimes… but I'm not ungrateful."

Kai tilted his head slightly.

"Then why follow me and put on this whole act to figure out who I was?"

Viktor shrugged, smirking.

"I don't know. Guess I wanted to be sure. But don't worry. I'm not telling anyone."

They locked eyes again. Viktor's voice dropped a little — calmer, more sincere.

"Thanks for saving me on that first mission. I just wanted to say that."

Kai exhaled slowly, quietly. Didn't reply. Just slid the communicator back into his pocket.

Viktor eyed him curiously.

"What's going on between you and Kiana?" he asked, raising a brow.

"Nothing. There's nothing."

Viktor's look held doubt, but he didn't push.

"From what I've seen… you do know who she is, right?"

Kai nodded slowly.

"That's what I thought." Viktor smiled again. "Hope you keep joining missions with us."

He took a step back, turning slightly.

"Oh — and watch my fight tomorrow. Gonna become ranked at this rich-kid school."

Kai raised his brows.

"I don't know who you're up against, but people here do have powers. Might not be so easy."

Viktor chuckled.

"We'll see. I train with Atlas, so unless it's someone like him or you, I doubt I'll break a sweat."

The corridor fell quiet for a few seconds — but it wasn't the same silence. There was something else now — a thin line between challenge and respect.

Inside Kai's mind, Nolan's recent interrogation echoed…

More people are finding out who I am.

It's only a matter of time before the GDA — and my father — do too.

And when that happens...

There's no going back.

Wednesday, June 12th, 2013 – Oakwood Highschool

Once again, the sun rose over Oakwood. Kai walked with his hands in his pockets, skillfully dodging clusters of students chatting in the middle of the hallway. As he turned the corner, he spotted Kiana leaning against the wall near their classroom door, scrolling through her phone.

She looked up as he approached, the faint smile tugging at her lips making it clear she'd been waiting for him.

Kai met her gaze and let out a quiet sigh.

"Yesterday, Viktor found out about me," Kai said in a low voice, just for her.

Kiana's eyes widened as she quickly shut her phone.

"What? He found out? What do you mean?"

"Yeah… but he said he won't tell anyone. At least, that's what he told me." Kai leaned his shoulder against the wall, watching the stream of students pass by. "He followed me after training. Just wanted to confirm."

Kiana raised an eyebrow.

"So the emergency alert on the comms… that was it. Clever guy." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, glancing back at Kai. "And you believe him?"

"For now," he replied without hesitation.

Before she could say anything else, a group of students walked past, chatting loudly.

"Today's fight is gonna be crazy. Robert versus some transfer student. They say the guy's strong."

"Yeah, I'm definitely going," said another.

Kai glanced at Kiana with his usual mocking tone.

"Speak of the devil..."

Kiana frowned, then smiled.

"You gonna watch him fight?"

"Maybe. Nothing better to do," Kai shrugged.

She reached to grab his arm but stopped halfway, adjusting her hair instead.

"I'll go with you. Should be fun," Kiana said with a brief grin. "Let's see if he can actually fight without throwing everything into the air with his wind powers."

Kai hesitated for a moment, then answered with a small smirk.

"Could be."

The bell rang, cutting their conversation short. They headed into class, and the rest of the morning passed in slow-moving lectures, scattered conversations, and a sense of anticipation among the students who were all waiting for the fight.

1:30 PM – Main Gym – Oakwood Highschool

The bleachers were nearly full, the buzz of excited voices filling the air. In the center, the ring shone under spotlights, surrounded by teachers, referees, and a few senior boxing club members. Robert was already inside, rolling his shoulders and throwing confident glances at the crowd. On the opposite end, the newcomer adjusted the wraps on his hands, his calm demeanor clashing with the pressure in the room.

Kai and Kiana arrived together, climbing a few steps to find a good vantage point. From where they sat, they could see every detail — Robert's cocky expression, the opponent's quiet focus.

Kai kept his eyes on the ring.

There was something familiar about the guy facing Viktor.

He activated the Six Eyes, and like a puzzle falling into place, the realization hit.

That Robert... he's the guy with the thorns. The one I fought alongside Darkwing.

The match just got a lot more interesting.

The referee stepped forward and motioned for both fighters to approach the center.

Robert's chin was slightly raised, eyes half-lidded with arrogant confidence. Viktor, meanwhile, wore his usual laid-back stance — but Kai could tell by the way his shoulders tensed and the steadiness of his breathing that he was taking this seriously.

The whistle blew.

Viktor moved first, sliding across the polished floor with controlled speed. He opened his guard just enough to test his opponent's reaction, throwing a quick left jab. Robert twisted his torso, blocked with his forearm, and answered with a right cross that Viktor narrowly avoided, feeling the wind whistle past his cheek.

The crowd let out a low "oooh," echoing across the gym.

Viktor didn't give him a chance to reset. He followed up with a left hook that forced Robert back a step, only to be met by a tight, sharp uppercut that barely missed Viktor's chin.

Kai watched each exchange like time was slowing down.

The precision was impressive, but what stood out was how Robert absorbed the hits — his breathing didn't shift, his body barely moved. It was like nothing fazed him.

Noticing that, Viktor shifted tactics, throwing quick combos: jab, hook, body shot, then another jab to create space. Robert kept his guard high, blocking everything cleanly and retaliating with flashy punches, not even trying to conserve energy.

Viktor glanced at him mid-fight.

This guy's tough… Kai was right.

Their feet danced across the ring — closing distance, backing off, breaking rhythms. The shuffle of sneakers and the sharp thud of punches echoed through the space.

"He's good… He's keeping up with Viktor without slowing down," Kiana murmured, leaning forward slightly.

Kai said nothing. He wasn't surprised. His blue eyes tracked every micro-movement: the twitch of Robert's shoulder, the faint shift in his weight before a swing — and more than anything, the uncanny resilience he was hiding.

The first minute was balanced, but by the second, Viktor started to push.

He ducked under a cross, rotated his torso, and landed a clean liver shot. The dull impact echoed, and the crowd roared. Robert stepped back, but his gaze stayed steady. He inhaled deeply and came right back in.

Just as I thought… he recovers way too fast, Kai realized.

That's not just conditioning… it's that insane regeneration I saw before.

Viktor tried to capitalize, backing him into the ropes with a flurry — jab, straight, hook, uppercut — but Robert absorbed most of it, blocked the last one, and countered with a direct punch to Viktor's chin, making him stumble slightly.

Cheers erupted from the crowd, split between fans of both fighters.

Elsewhere in the bleachers, Chris, Bruce, Charlize, and Tom were watching.

Bruce sat relaxed, Charlize practically glued to him.

"This new kid's good. He's giving Robert a hard time," said Tom.

Chris watched intently.

"Another one who just shows up with powers. His movements, his strenght... Clearly not normal. And if he's new here, it's unlikely he took the injection."

Bruce glanced sideways.

"Relax, It's just 'cause Robert canno't use his Ego here. Even so, If it stays like this, he'll win no problem… his regeneration is as stubborn and annoying as he is. nothing to stress about."

Chris narrowed his eyes.

"The real issue is that we still don't know who Grey is. That white-haired guy… if this one had his hair in white, could it be him? He's gotta be somewhere."

Charlize shook her head, staring at the ring.

"It's not him… This kid doesn't have blue eyes. I remember those damn eyes."

Chris looked at her still clinging to Bruce.

"Good to know… Glad you two realized this place isn't a motel and decided to look at the match."

Tom laughed.

"What an ass," Charlize muttered.

Bruce jabbed back.

"Don't mind him. He's cranky because his little girlfriend's sitting across the gym with that guy he hates."

Chris sighed, rolling his eyes. "Unbelievable…"

The match picked up pace. The two fighters began trading heavier blows — each punch packing enough power to end things. Viktor used his speed to dart in and out, scoring quick hits and dodging counters, but Robert remained unshaken, punishing any opening with clean hits to the ribs and jaw.

Kai noticed the pattern.

Robert was soaking everything, letting Viktor waste energy, then swinging momentum back in his favor. It was like watching the tide — push, hit, retreat, recover… push again.

By the end of the third minute, Viktor's breathing grew heavier. Sweat ran down his temples, and his posture lost some of its looseness. Robert, on the other hand, looked fresh.

Viktor pivoted left, changed angles, and threw a quick jab-straight combo. Robert blocked the jab, let the straight pass, then retaliated with a brutal body shot.

Kai watched Viktor clench his fists tighter, forcing himself not to retreat.

He can't keep this up.

The fourth minute came with relentless exchanges. They brawled in the center of the ring, neither taking a step back. Fists cracked into ribs and jaws, the sounds sharp and unforgiving.

Viktor landed a heavy left hook on Robert's face — his head turned slightly… and came back with a right cross that made Viktor's jaw shake.

Robert's recovery was absurd. Anyone else would've slowed down. He looked like he was just getting started — lips curled in a half-smile, blood trickling from his nose as he wiped it away without missing a beat.

"Wow… looks like he's gonna lose," Kiana muttered, voice low but clear.

Kai didn't have to respond.

He already knew. And unlike the others, like Chris and Bruce, he understood exactly why Viktor would lose.

Then came the fifth minute.

Viktor was clearly exhausted — but his stance shifted. His gaze sharpened. His feet moved lighter. And now… he was smiling.

He's calm?

With the Six Eyes active, Kai saw what no one else could.

A subtle, swirling breeze began to form around Viktor's fists — microscopic whirlwinds forming and fading in fractions of a second.

Robert charged, trying to finish the match. His straight punch sliced through the air, but Viktor tilted aside, letting it miss, and countered with a tight hook to the chin.

The impact felt different.

No flash. No visible blast. Just a ripple in the air behind Robert's head — unseen by most, but Kai noticed.

The punch vibrated with something extra — compressed air, released at the exact point of contact.

That… Kai leaned forward, eyes narrowing.

That's like the anime… like using cursed energy — that perfect delay before impact.

Kai's eyes flashed with nostalgia for a moment, letting out a slight smile. This new guy had managed to invent something similar to that with his powers.

Robert staggered, but stayed on his feet. He recovered fast, thanks to his regeneration, and came back with a quick jab-straight combo. Viktor blocked the first, dodged the second, then launched another enhanced punch — this time, a straight to the ribs.

The sound was sharp, dense—unlike any punch before.

Robert stumbled back two steps, his breathing disrupted for the first time.

The crowd erupted, sensing something had shifted, even if they couldn't understand exactly what.

Viktor didn't waste the opportunity.

He advanced like a predator, every step calculated, every strike infused with that invisible compression. A cross to the temple, hook to the liver, straight to the jaw — each hit driving Robert closer to the ropes.

Kai watched in fascination.

He's syncing the wind with the impact… forcing all the pressure at the perfect moment. No wasted movement, just pure force. I couldn't control the Void like that even if I tried.

And in that moment, beyond the fight itself, Kai realized something deeper.

No matter what prophecies the gods had whispered… that world wasn't set in stone.

It didn't revolve solely around him or Mark.

There was no unchangeable destiny.

In the ring, Robert attempted a desperate uppercut, but Viktor ducked under and landed a perfect left cross. Robert's body spun slightly before slamming into the ropes.

The entire gym held its breath.

Viktor took a single step back, exhaled slowly, a grin on his face… then lunged again, the energy and wind building in his fists.

The left came from below, smashing into Robert's chin and lifting him slightly off the ground.

The right followed — a perfect straight to the jaw — and this time, the impact launched Robert out of the ring, flat on his back, unconscious for a moment until the referee rushed to check his condition.

A beat of silence.

Then an explosion of cheers.

"Vortex wins by technical knockout!" the referee announced, raising Viktor's arm. "New 4th Rank of Oakwood High!"

Robert, regaining consciousness thanks to his fast regeneration, didn't need help getting up.

He grimaced, muttering something under his breath. Even in defeat, he still had the right to challenge anyone ranked below his previous position to try and stay in the top ten.

But for now, all eyes were on Viktor — the newcomer.

Up in the stands, Kai slowly deactivated the Six Eyes, his thoughts still circling what he had just witnessed.

Kiana, next to him, had paid more attention to him than the match itself.

"When you leaned forward… you already knew he would win, didn't you?"

Kai gave a slight nod.

"When your eyes turn blue… you can see things the rest of us can't, right?" she asked, curiosity in her voice.

Kai turned calmly to her.

"You have no idea."

Across the gym, Chris was still watching the ring, brows furrowed.

"Charlize… you sure that guy can't be Grey?" he asked with a serious tone. "If he wore contacts and dyed his hair white?"

Charlize shrugged, chewing her gum lazily.

"Only if those contacts were super expensive. They'd have to glow like his."

Bruce, holding Charlize close, glanced at Chris.

"I don't know if it's him, but Grey blew up on social media after that mission with the Young Team. I've been thinking… maybe we interfere next time he shows up on one of their missions."

Chris kept his stern expression.

" What a load of crap… getting in the way of heroes openly," he said with dry irony, then sighed. "But yeah, the problem is… we don't even know who this guy really is. I'll talk to Scott and Russell about it. Maybe your idea isn't that insane... if it's executed correctly."

After the fight, Kai walked Kiana to the exit.

A sleek black sedan was parked by the curb, looking like it had just rolled off a luxury showroom floor.

A young woman with perfect posture and discreet attire opened the back door.

"Good afternoon, Miss."

"Good afternoon, Claire," Kiana replied casually, as if it were routine.

Kai stood silently as she got into the car. Before closing the door, Claire looked at him and offered a small, polite nod — professional, yet unmistakably assessing.

The engine purred softly, and the sedan slid down the street, vanishing into traffic.

Having powers is already something I never imagined in my past life… but having money? That seems to give you an even smoother ride.

Kai let out a breath, about to head home, when he saw Viktor leaving the school building.

Kai approached, eyes still studying Viktor, analyzing every detail.

Unlike his habit of trying to avoid everyone and any social interaction... this time, he didn't wait for the other person to start the conversation.

"How did you do that in the fight?" he asked, direct and to the point.

Viktor raised an eyebrow. "Do what?"

"When your punches hit harder — with no visible effect. You compressed the air and released it at the exact moment of impact. That third right straight to his jaw, then the left hook before you knocked him out."

Viktor's gaze shifted subtly. It wasn't every day someone noticed a detail like that — especially one he believed was nearly invisible.

"You caught that?" A quick grin tugged at his lips. "It's a trick I figured out to survive sparring with Atlas. Otherwise, I'd be a training dummy."

Kai crossed his arms, curious. "So what's the trick?"

Viktor scratched the back of his neck, shaking his head.

"Hard to explain… I just do it. I focus the air into my fists and release it at the right time. If I overthink it, it doesn't work."

Silence fell for a few seconds. Viktor pulled out his phone, typed something, then smiled at the screen.

Without warning, he added—

"By the way… Kiana? She's totally into you. It's obvious. And with all due respect… she's smoking hot."

Kai turned away slightly, expression unreadable.

"Man, life's unfair. The steak lands in the lap of the vegetarian!" Viktor laughed. "You're one of those guys who acts like they don't care about anything."

Kai let out a chuckle at the sarcastic tone — his kind of humor.

"And you seem like the kind of guy desperate to date someone."

Viktor put his phone away and struck a serious pose.

"I'm joking, man. I've got a girlfriend. You know Reflex? Yeah, her."

Kai raised an eyebrow, surprised.

"That could get messy. If a villain finds out…"

Viktor stayed serious.

"Yeah, I know. We're careful. Try not to make it obvious… She's important to me. I joke around, but I'd never cheat—"

A girl with long brown hair and a dazzling smile walked past. Viktor's eyes followed her instantly.

He stayed serious for just one more second, then suddenly pointed dramatically at her.

He loudly finished the sentence for her to hear too, "Unless it was with that brunette! My heart can't take it!"

Kai watched and couldn't help it — he laughed for real.

"You've got issues. Seriously."

Viktor straightened up again.

"It's passed, it's passed… I'm a versatile guy." He winked before shifting the topic as if nothing had happened. "Jokes aside… you're strong. I bet you're at Atlas' level. And he's been skipping training."

He paused, then looked at Kai with casual interest.

"You should train with me."

Kai went quiet for a moment. His thoughts wandered to Cosmic, still out somewhere in Africa, and how those training sessions had shaped him. Then to Nolan's recent questions about school — a silent reminder he needed to be ready.

Could be good to train with someone again…

Kai finally turned toward him.

"Alright. But if we're training, it's gonna be somewhere remote. Nowhere near the GDA."

Viktor smiled. "Deal."

He immediately pulled out his phone again, got Kai's number, and started walking off.

"Alright, man, I'm heading out to meet my girlfriend. I'll text you to set up training."

Kai shoved his hands into his pockets — his usual stance.

"Cool," he replied.

And in that moment, something small had begun — maybe the start of a friendship neither of them had expected.

Not Far From There...

The black luxury sedan glided smoothly through the streets of Chicago, its interior silent except for the muffled purr of the engine. Sunlight filtered through the windows, painting the cream leather seats with golden stripes that shifted alongside the buildings outside. The air carried a hint of expensive perfume mixed with the subtle scent of new leather, creating an almost hermetic atmosphere.

Kiana watched the city pass by through the window, her phone resting in her hand more like a weight than a distraction. Beside her, Claire—longtime friend and personal assistant—held a small shopping bag in her lap, a mischievous smile on her face that clashed with the apparent tranquility of the moment.

"So... that was Kai Grayson, wasn't it?" asked Claire, leaning slightly toward her like it was a secret.

Kiana turned her gaze from the window, raising an eyebrow. "That?"

Claire feigned innocence, but her grin gave her away. "The young man who carried your shopping bags at the mall, remember? You seemed pretty relaxed around him. Didn't even keep your usual polished posture."

Kiana let out a short sigh and turned her eyes back to the view outside. "You're exaggerating."

"I'm not," Claire continued, her tone sing-songy, like someone who knew they had hit the mark and wouldn't let go. "And I saw you from afar today—you two were chatting like old friends. You even smiled."

"So what? I always smile," Kiana retorted.

"'So what?' Maybe, but it's not every day I see you smile for real. At least not for someone outside your family or your very... exclusive circle. And apparently, he managed to pull it off.""

A faint heat rose to Kiana's cheeks, though her face remained neutral.

"You're reading too much into things, Claire."

But even she wasn't sure anymore.

"Oh, of course..." Claire rested her chin in her hand, her gaze laced with barely contained amusement. "Just hope I'm there the day you start reading too much into things too."

The driver remained impassive, but Kiana could've sworn she caught a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth in the rearview mirror. She took a deep breath and leaned back against the seat, ending the conversation before it went any further.

Claire, still smiling, suddenly adopted a more serious posture.

With a simple gesture, she pressed a button on the side panel, and the glass divider slowly rose, isolating the back seat from the driver. The soft hum of the mechanism was followed by a heavy silence.

She turned to Kiana, her gaze now more calculated.

"Changing the subject... you've got another mission with the Young Team. And your father's still in town." Her voice was low but carried clear concern. "Are you really going to take that risk with him nearby?"

Kiana looked away for a moment, but when she answered, her voice was firm.

"Yes. They might need me."

A second later, a playful smile formed on her lips, breaking the serious tone.

"And since you're the only one who knows... that makes you my accomplice. You'll help me cover it all up."

Claire let out a dramatic sigh, rolling her eyes.

"You're lucky I like my salary... and you!"

Kiana let out a short laugh, sinking back into the seat. The tension dissipated, leaving behind a lighter atmosphere as the sedan continued cutting through the streets of Chicago...

Later, the sun began its descent on the horizon, dyeing the buildings in shades of copper and violet. Hours passed, and the light was swallowed by the veil of night. Elsewhere, far from the comfort and luxury, shadows ruled every corner...

Underworld Port Pier – Somewhere On the Coast – 10:14 PM

The port reeked of salt and rust from the murky water, mixed with the stench of burnt oil. Chains lightly tapped against the corroded hull of a docked ship, producing a hollow sound that was swallowed by the creeping fog. Towering cranes stood still, casting shadows across the cloudy sky. Distant spotlights swept the docks, occasionally illuminating the figures gathered between containers stacked like fortress walls.

At the center, Titan stood with arms crossed, his posture as solid as the steel encasing his body. Beside him, Isotope watched the scene with his usual bored expression, hands in his pockets and gaze dull, as if witnessing a play where he already knew the ending.

Three different groups kept their distance, but the tension between them was palpable. One group, dressed in black with discreet hats, whispered in thickly accented Spanish. Among them, a tall, skinny man with a thin mustache and worn-out blazer stepped forward, continuing a conversation that sounded like a new proposal.

"This will be a good deal. You'll get thirty percent... Besides, you know who's interested in this coast now, Titan?" His voice was deep but laced with arrogance. "Tomás Salamanca sends his regards… and a warning. We don't like to see big fish swimming in the same waters unless they're with us."

The silence that followed seemed to drain even the distant sound of waves. Isotope raised an eyebrow, smirking. Titan, however, didn't move a muscle for several seconds… until he stepped forward, the weight of his foot echoing on the wet concrete.

In one swift motion, Titan grabbed the man by the collar and lifted him like a ragdoll. The sound of tearing fabric blended with the dull thud of a body slammed against the nearest container. The metal shuddered from the impact.

"Cartels might have power…" Titan spoke low, but with a blade-sharp intensity. "…but you don't. And you'd better remember that before saying my name and his in the same sentence."

The man tried to keep a brave face, but Titan's grip on his chest left him breathless. The other cartel members hesitated, some stepping halfway forward but stopping as Titan cast them a cold glance. Without hurry, he slightly tilted his head — a subtle gesture that seemed to say try me.

Titan released him, and the man slid down the metal until his feet touched the ground.

"Send my words to Salamanca. And tell him I'm not interested… unless he gives me a better reason to be."

The man straightened his wrinkled blazer but said nothing. He only stepped back, eyes burning with restrained fury.

Isotope gave a soft whistle, breaking the tension. "Always so diplomatic…" he murmured, throwing a teasing glance at Titan, then sending a veiled jab at the cartel men. "If the cartels want a middleman here, maybe the proposal should be less arrogant and more... interesting, don't you think?"

Titan gestured for his men to lower their weapons, then turned his back on the cartel group entirely, as if their presence was meaningless.

He began fixing the buttons on his shirt and blazer, torn during his earlier move.

"I am diplomatic," he said calmly — a calmness bordering on disdain.

Isotope laughed while the Mexicans exchanged words in Spanish among themselves.

The same man from before stepped forward again, this time slowly, cautiously, measuring each step.

"Tomás is fed up with that man. He was about to cut him loose, but suddenly he started delivering more than anyone else. If you become our bridge from Mexico to the U.S. in his place, we—"

Titan slowly turned his head, cutting him off.

"Still here?"

"Improve your offer if you want something," Isotope added with a half-smile.

The Mexicans withdrew without another word, disappearing into the fog.

The silence outside contrasted with the muffled murmur that could be heard beyond the steel door.

Inside, the long wooden table at the center was once again surrounded by men in expensive suits and faces worn by the lives they led. Cigarettes burned slowly at the corners of tight lips. Leather briefcases, some with steel locks, were stacked along the walls.

Titan walked toward them slowly, his mere presence silencing all conversation.

"East Coast shipments will resume passing through here. No exceptions. You've all made enough from this stupid cold war."

His deep voice echoed through the space, heavy as lead.

Across the table, a man with a crooked nose and a navy-blue suit cleared his throat.

"There's one more thing, Titan. The Mexican cartel mentioned that someone new is distributing to their middleman. Very quietly. Small packages… but many of them. They're not using any of our routes."

Another man chimed in.

"The cartels don't know who it is, which is probably why they're getting impatient… but I snooped around. The rumors say it might be students… but no one knows for sure. No one's seen the head of the operation."

A beat of silence followed, as if no one dared to mock the idea — but also didn't believe it fully.

Titan showed no reaction, only letting his gaze slowly scan the table.

"If they're not interfering with our shipments, it's not my problem… for now."

That's when Isotope, leaning against a stack of crates in the corner, furrowed his brow.

The word students echoed in his mind.

Where did I hear that nonsense before?

Then, moments later, he raised an eyebrow, still staring at the warehouse floor.

The memory surfaced — along with a name.

The kid… is bearing fruit…

Scott.

The hint of a smile curled his lips.

But he said nothing.

He let the silence swallow the matter as he turned his attention back to the meeting, as if the information was irrelevant.

Titan noticed the smile but didn't comment. He knew Isotope only shared what he wanted — and when he didn't, there was always a reason.

The conversation returned to numbers, routes, and deadlines, and the air grew thick again with tobacco smoke.

A Few Days Later… Remote Area Outside Chicago — MidnightJune 25, 2013 — Tuesday — 11:42 PM

The midnight wind sliced through the open field, carrying the distant scent of damp grass and oxidized metal. The sky was clear, dotted with stars, and the full moon cast long shadows across the uneven ground.

Viktor and Kai had been there for a few minutes, their conversation filling the silence before the training began.

"Tell me something... what's with the white hair? Do you use some kind of temporary dye?" Viktor asked, tilting his head with genuine curiosity.

Kai brought a hand to his chin and rolled his neck lightly, joints cracking—a clear warm-up before some physical effort.

"It's not dye. It's natural… I mean, my hair was originally dark, but using my powers too much makes it turn white. It's a kind of physical stress," he said while doing a few quick stretches.

"Man, that's too stylish. Life really blessed you, huh." Viktor cast him a sidelong glance, smirking.

Kai sighed, weighed down by fatigue and that familiar boredom that seemed to follow him everywhere.

"I don't see any blessing in it… What about you? Your wind powers—how did you discover them?"

Viktor, already taking on the tone of a storyteller, walked toward the more open part of the field.

"So… one day I had this insane fever, the kind that makes you hallucinate. Ended up in the hospital. The next morning, alone and bored, I started tossing wet paper balls at the ceiling..."

Kai raised an eyebrow, suppressing a smile.

"I think there's definitely something wrong with you."

Viktor chuckled, holding up a finger to continue.

"Hold on, here's the best part! A new nurse—gorgeous—named Melanie was the one who checked me in. When she passed by my room at the end of her shift, she was wearing a dress..."

Kai frowned, already guessing where this was going.

"Not sure I want to hear the rest."

"When she turned to leave, I just thought, 'It'd be nice if a breeze came through right now'... and bam! A gust of wind!" Viktor laughed loudly before finishing with exaggerated pride. "And it was blue, bro!"

Kai brought a hand to his forehead, shaking his head.

"Now I'm certain... you've got issues."

Viktor laughed again, unfazed.

At the center of the field, Viktor adjusted his Vortex mask, and the air around him stirred to life. Wind currents swirled, lifting dust into thin spirals that rose and disappeared into the night. Opposite him, Kai— in his Grey uniform—stood still, hands relaxed at his sides. His posture was casual, almost uninterested… but inside, there was a flicker of excitement, maybe even anticipation.

"Alright, no holding back. I used to train with Atlas, so go all in," Viktor said firmly from behind his mask as the pressure in the air increased.

Kai gave a slight nod without changing expression.

Alright then.

The first move came from Viktor: a sharp thrust, compressed wind at his back launching him forward at high speed. The ground groaned under the sudden movement. A blink later, he appeared in front of Kai, right fist wrapped in a layer of air.

Kai moved just enough. A fluid sidestep, and the blow missed by a breath of wind. Before Viktor could adjust, Kai advanced. A single movement—simple, clean—his shoulder crashing into Viktor's with enough force to knock him off balance.

Viktor spun mid-air but regained stability using a backward gust of wind.

But no time to breathe. Kai was already there, moving fast, like the space between them didn't exist.

A straight punch through the air, and Viktor felt the hit vibrate through his wind wall and forearms as he blocked it with both hands. Still, it launched him backward, dragging grooves into the dirt until he stopped.

"Damn..." Viktor muttered, adjusting his stance. Then he raised both arms, forming a wind barrier as dense as invisible steel.

Kai charged low, flying just above the ground. The ten-meter distance vanished in under a second. The field echoed with the distortion of wind barriers breaking, followed by a boom as Kai tore through like paper.

Viktor hit the ground, rolling, raising dust and grass.

Kai landed next to him without even adjusting his breath.

"That was... way too fast," Viktor said, coughing with a mix of frustration and admiration.

Kai offered a faint smile, holding out a hand to help him up.

"You asked for a test. Was Atlas weaker than this?"

The silence of the field broke only with the rustling of crushed grass as Viktor took Kai's hand and stood up. His breathing was heavy, but his eyes were sharp.

"Not even close," he replied with a tone of amused challenge.

The sentence made Kai raise an eyebrow, curious as to how much stronger than this Atlas would be.

With a quick motion, he pulled off the Vortex mask, letting the cold night air hit his sweat-drenched face. The wind around him swirled harder, echoing his resolve.

"Better this way... Now I'm going all out. And you..." He narrowed his eyes. "...didn't use that power I saw last time."

Kai adjusted his own mask and lowered it as well, narrowing his eyes in silent agreement, though something inside him was clearly enjoying this.

"I didn't use it because I didn't need to. Let's see how far you can go."

Viktor smiled at the challenge and launched forward, air bursting beneath him with a sharp crack. Every wind strike now hit harder, the air pressure thickening quickly.

You could tell, Viktor was different now.

Kai didn't move at first. He smiled slightly as he closed his eyes.

In the next second… the world gained layers—unseen lines of information overlaying reality as the Six Eyes opened, painting the scene in impossible clarity.

Every shift in pressure, each whirlwind of dust, every micro-movement from Viktor became vividly clear.

The first gust came like an invisible blade, slicing the air with a high-pitched whistle. Kai tilted his body just in time; the attack grazed him and behind him, a rock the size of a car split clean in two before crashing down.

Viktor didn't stop. Blade after blade, compact wind spheres exploded on impact, kicking up dirt.

He tried to analyze as he backed away from each blow, using flurries with his feet to increase the distance and force Kai to chase him.

Damn it, he dodgeseverything!

Kai advanced casually, dodging with minimal motion thanks to his perception. As he closed in, Viktor threw up wind barriers, dense as metal—but Kai broke through them in seconds, trailing distorted air in his wake.

"I want to see..." Viktor shouted mid-barrage, "...what that blue power was—the one that tore through that monster! I'll make you use it!"

Kai grinned sideways like he'd accepted the invite.

"I'll show you something, then."

He suddenly stopped mid-air. The atmosphere shifted, subtly. No visual light, no sparks—just a shimmer in the air like heat rising from asphalt on a summer day.

He'd activated the 'Mugen'.

Viktor, seeing him still, didn't hesitate. Sharp gusts flew, each one accompanied by a sharp whistle. But the blades dissolved inches from Kai, evaporating like smoke against an invisible wall.

"Come on! You're not even dodging—do you feel anything?" Viktor shouted.

He launched a spinning wind sphere at Kai's torso—it hit the shimmer, released a hollow echo, but didn't reach skin.

Kai looked up, smiling.

" I've been wanting to test this for a while, but I didn't have anyone to test it with anymore."

Viktor gritted his teeth, picking up speed.

"Oh yeah? Then let's test it!"

He dove in with a kick wrapped in a miniature tornado—only to watch it stall mid-air, like reality itself had betrayed him.

"What the—?"

Again he tried—punches, elbows, knees—but every strike halted inches away, the force erased before contact.

Wind howled around them, swaying the grass, but Kai remained still, Six Eyes registering every micro-tension in Viktor's muscles.

Then Viktor paused. He breathed in deeply.

Kai looked at him.

"Tired already?" he asked, casual and teasing like an old friend.

Viktor smirked.

The air around his fists compressed violently, the currents folding in on themselves until a deep sound—almost like distant thunder—rumbled.

"You saw this once and described it perfectly that day. But back then… I was holding back so the wind wouldn't show."

He lunged—and just as his punch landed, he released all the energy in a perfect burst—timed to crack bones or metal if it hit clean.

It collided with Mugen, and for the first time, Kai felt it.

The distortion quivered like glass about to shatter. The void's energy drained rapidly, like water spiraling down a drain.

Damn… if I take too much at once, my energy runs out fast.

He floated back, deactivating Mugen. The world around them sighed with relief, as if the pressure had lifted.

"Looks like this can hit you!"

Viktor didn't hesitate—he charged, eyes locked in.

But Kai was already in motion.

A blue flash ignited—he condensed the Blue with Mugen in an instant. The burst from within and his flight accelerated him brutally, erasing the gap between them in a blink.

To Viktor, Kai simply vanished.

Then—impact. Controlled, but powerful enough to knock the air from Viktor's lungs.

He hadn't had time to react. It was over in an instant. The final hit echoed across the open field.

The force threw him back, sliding across the ground until he stopped on his knees, panting.

"Time... Time out... I'm... done," Viktor murmured between breaths.

Kai walked over calmly.

"You alive?"

"Damn…" Viktor muttered, wiping sweat from his forehead. He looked up, and despite losing, there was a glimmer of respect. "Now it's official—you're as tough as Atlas. I didn't like being number two… now I'm number three."

Kai chuckled and sat beside him.

Viktor was still catching his breath, elbows on his knees.

"If I had a few more seconds... I might've landed a hit."

"You had minutes and still didn't," Kai replied, slightly winded.

Viktor shook his head, smiling faintly.

"Come on, you were tired too. I saw it at the end. The problem is I gassed out first. What was that? You looked untouchable."

Kai raised an eyebrow, smiling faintly. Untouchable. That word hit a little too close to home.

"Almost. But it doesn't work like I want... drains me fast. The stronger the hit, the faster I get tired. That's why I don't use it."

Viktor frowned.

"And that blue glow at the end? Same one that tore the monster open? Or when you saved Kiana? You were way stronger that day..."

Kai looked away, eyes fixed on the dark field.

"Sort of… That blue thing can create attraction, pull everything. When I saved Kiana, though, it was something else. That power… it has serious side effects. I can't use it again."

The wind blew harder, as if reacting to his words. But Viktor cut through the tension.

"You would've made a difference on our mission last Saturday. Would've ended faster."

Kai kept his eyes on the horizon.

"Probably… but I don't want to get involved with GDA or any hero stuff."

"Why, man? will you continue beating up small gangs?" Viktor asked, curious.

Kai sighed, turning to him with an ironic smile.

"Someone has to do this, right?" After a second's pause, he became serious, almost a tired expression, "my situation is more complicated than you think..."

Viktor laughed briefly.

"Well... Kiana kept looking at the sky every five minutes—probably hoping you'd show."

"Don't start. You've got a girlfriend and can't keep your eyes off anyone else. People always pushing these things—it never ends well. Get out while you can," Kai said, getting up and brushing off his uniform.

Viktor dropped the teasing, serious again.

"So bitter. You don't know what you're missing!"

"You gonna keep making up stories or show me how you do that wind-condensed fist thing?"

Viktor stood and went back into confident mode, explaining every detail. While he tried to replicate Kai's Mugen using wind vacuums, Kai tried mimicking Viktor's impact punches using the Blue.

They trained together...

Leaving behind the marks of their clash on the remote field.

While the two were fighting in a distant field...

Someone expected...

Expected something that would probably never happen again.

Wilkins Residence – June 25th, 2013 – 11:57 PM – Eve's Bedroom

The soft glow of the setting sun filtered through the curtains, painting streaks of orange and pink across the wooden floor. Samantha sat on the edge of her bed, elbows resting on her knees, her gaze distant as she stared out the window.

No sign of him. Her eyes lingered for a second longer, then lowered.

She sighed quietly, brushing a strand of red hair behind her ear.

"Why would he show up again?" she murmured to herself. "Just because he showed up for that brief moment on my birthday last year? If he wanted to… he would've, a long time ago."

Her fingers tightened slightly on the fabric of her pajama pants.

"I never even got his name. That Grey guy… he talked like him, but physically? he had some small... but clear differences."

Her voice faded into silence, but the thoughts continued, stubborn and restless.

Still… maybe it was the same person. Maybe not. Either way, it doesn't matter now.

She leaned back slowly, letting herself fall onto the bed as her eyes found the ceiling.

Time to stop chasing a ghost, Eve.

A long breath escaped her lips.

"Happy birthday to me."

The following days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months...

The rest of that year flowed like a river that, despite its bends, followed its inevitable course.

Kiana and Cassie now shared a unique friendship, and thanks to Cassie — who had also become a close friend to Kai — Kiana managed to get close to him too, adding to the fact that they knew each other's secret identity.

This happened not in a forced way, nor through grand gestures — but in the small moments: short conversations before and after class, brief glances during club training, or casual gatherings with friends.

Kiana didn't seem interested in changing who he was, but her presence, along with Cassie's, constant and steady, ended up smoothing out edges Kai didn't even realize he carried.

On some days, it was the two of them who pulled him out of his silent routine, dragging him into conversations during lunch or convincing him to stay longer at practice. He never admitted it, but rarely said no.

Viktor, on the other hand, pulled him in the opposite direction — or maybe just toward a more human, teenage side Kai insisted on keeping locked away. With Viktor, there were laughs during training, teasing that stretched all the way to the school gates, and conversations that ranged from combat strategies to ridiculous hospital stories. Slowly, Kai found himself more present, more a part of something.

Maybe it was the void silently stirring within his mind, altering his neurotransmitters, like an antidepressant drug...

Or maybe it was just the effect of having people to care about.

He was still Kai… but different. A "different" that showed even in the way he walked the halls or sat during class meetings. There was more life in his movements, more depth in his eyes — even if he denied any change.

Even without officially joining the Young Team, Kai showed up on three missions that semester. Always precise, never tied to the structure or orders, but making it clear that, when needed, he'd be there. These appearances didn't go unnoticed — not by the team, and especially not by Kiana, who, even if she didn't say it, already considered him part of the team.

Outside the bigger missions, there were still the moments that never made it to any official report — a night patrol ending with a mugger knocked out in an alley, an accident avoided before heroes could even arrive, or a school conflict defused before it could make headlines. Kai moved like a shadow, interfering just enough and vanishing right after.

Meanwhile, the scheme run by Scott, Chris, and Russell evolved from chaotic to something almost professional. Deliveries were split into smaller packages, spread across different zones, different locations, different schools, and handled by students who believed they were just running errands. All under the authorities' noses, with no central point to trace.

Among young delinquents, the reaction was subtle. Small gangs began acting more cautiously or ceasing operations altogether, as if rumors about a white-haired, blue-eyed figure had reached the right ears.

The GDA remained silent, without public statements, as if there were a quiet, hidden interest in those reports… and to certain careful eyes within the agency, it seemed like someone was deliberately suppressing them. A few small local news sites vaguely mentioned a sudden drop in youth-related incidents in certain neighborhoods.

Viktor had fully integrated into Oakwood by now, holding the fourth spot in the ranking and having reported over twenty individuals with enhanced physical abilities to the GDA. Because of his closeness to Kai, he ended up befriending some second-year guys from another class — Dimitry, Jacob, Josh, and the others who had left the delivery scheme. His role on campus had started to go beyond the mission he was given; he had become a bridge between different groups, without losing the carefree, impulsive vibe that made him so approachable.

During their joint training sessions, Kai and Viktor refined increasingly precise combinations of flight and physical strength, polishing strikes that required less energy and hit faster. Kai's control over the Blue technique became sharper, able to pull objects with greater accuracy, and the Mugen, though still used sparingly, had grown more stable. Still too risky for most situations — but a tool nonetheless.

Viktor, too, kept improving, never missing a chance to tease him by saying that at the pace they were going, catching up to him and Atlas was just a matter of time — though he had no idea that Kai's physical evolution was far from complete, since he was a Viltrumite.

The boxing club had also become a different space. Over time, Kai's relationship with its members lightened — to the point where, although rare, they sometimes went out together after school. Even William, who often visited the Grayson house to hang out with Mark, admitted that Kai was… more "bearable."

Mark, for his part, seemed to notice the changes in his brother, even if he didn't comment on them directly. There were days when Kai felt more present, even joining in for a round or two of games in the late afternoon. And there were days when he seemed distant again, eyes fixed on a point no one else could see. That fluctuation felt to Mark both familiar and unsettling — like his brother carried something he would never be able to fully understand.

Somewhere along that flow, Samantha Eve Wilkins, now fifteen, was already seen as a rising star — a girl with extraordinary powers balancing heroism and school life all on her own. To many, she was still just "Atom Eve," but to a select few who truly knew her, she was simply a teenager grappling with choices far too heavy for her age.

And so, the calendar moved on without fanfare — but with visible changes, and with small pieces shifting across the board, quietly preparing the ground for everything that was yet to come.

Interlude — Part 1: Eyes Over the EarthOctober 2013 — 11:45 PM

The metallic groan of a collapsing structure echoed over the city. An old building, partially under renovation, had crumbled after a minor tremor, spreading dust and panic across the surrounding streets.

Nolan broke through the clouds like a projectile, descending straight into the heart of the dust cloud. His uniform was marked by concrete and soot as he tore through the rubble.

"Hold on tight!" he shouted, lifting a steel beam that blocked the only exit. The trapped workers didn't need a second chance—they ran out coughing and stumbling. One of them glanced back, stunned, before disappearing down the street.

Above, the distant sound of spinning rotors grew louder. A rescue helicopter — chipped paint, frame trembling under its own weight — struggled to remain steady against the wind. Inside, men readied ropes and stretchers.

To Nolan's eyes, it was an archaic display. Sluggish movements, fragile technology, a process that would cost lives if he hadn't been there.

They're going to destroy themselves… The thought struck him with clinical detachment.

And that's when the mission resurfaced in his mind.

The Viltrumite objective wasn't just conquest — it was inevitability. Bringing order to the chaos of lesser species.

Looking at the city, Nolan didn't just see a vulnerable planet; he saw a people still fighting against their own inefficiency.

He noticed the tangled electric cables crisscrossing the streets, the buildings crammed together with no evacuation planning, the traffic jams forming despite the sound of firefighter sirens.

A system that would collapse under the slightest pressure.

As he freed the last survivor, his mind was already calculating—not the effort, but the outcome. He knew what had to be done, someday. And nothing he was doing now — no matter how many he saved — would change this planet's destiny.

Back in the air, he hovered above the city for a moment. The helicopter was still approaching, as if trying to catch up with something already finished.

His gaze drifted toward the horizon.

The sigh he released carried a weight hard to define — part relief, part frustration. Then, without looking back, he vanished into the horizon he had been watching.

Well… they don't have powers yet…

or maybe they never will...

Interlude — Part 2: Pawns on the BoardDecember 2013 — 11:45 PM

The suffocating warehouse reeked of stale gunpowder and cheap cigarettes. The hanging lights flickered, casting long shadows over the stained concrete floor.

Russell leaned back in one of the chairs, a lazy smile on his face contrasting with the tension thick in the air. On the table, stacks of money and black bags were piled high—the newest batch of products, meticulously divided in the scheme that now involved dozens of student couriers. And the cartels had no idea.

"All this… and not a single shot fired," he said, spreading his arms like he was unveiling a masterpiece. "You all know the volume's increasing. So is the control."

Tomás Salamanca, seated at the other end, didn't smile. His thin mustache and stern expression masked the growing discomfort in his chest. To him, Russell was a nuisance—kept around only because he was useful. Every time he considered removing him, the redhead came up with another surprise.

"The return is good, Russell," Tomás replied, his voice drawn out. "But when something grows this fast, it draws attention. Explain your operation so we can keep everything clear between us and avoid problems. We can organize everything together."

Russell just shrugged, as if danger were a mere detail.

"No. My operation is my operation. Attention's only bad for those who can't handle it. I can."

The silence that followed was broken only by the sound of chairs scraping the floor and footsteps echoing. Meeting over. Russell stood up, adjusted his jacket, and walked out of the warehouse, leaving behind the heavy smell of smoke.

Tomás remained seated, watching Russell leave, his expression cold and the corners of his mouth twitching with restrained irritation.

Outside, along the dark side of the remote building, three men were mercilessly beating a hero no one would recognize. The mask, torn, barely covered his face; his uniform—blue and silver—was ripped and soaked in blood. The hero groaned, trying to raise an arm to defend himself, but a burst of kinetic energy from one of the men's hands sent him crashing into the wall.

The man approached—massive, covered in tattoos, shaved head, and a thick mustache that seemed to be their signature.

He grabbed the fallen hero by the neck and slammed him into the wall repeatedly, with no emotion.

When he finished, he casually dusted off his hands like someone brushing away dirt.

"He's done for. When the boss sends him… there's never anything left," said one of the henchmen, glancing at the limp body slumped on the ground, eyes lifeless, still locked in a vacant stare.

At the door, two men stepped forward toward Tomás, both from Salamanca's circle. Identical—sun-burned skin and matching tattoos up to their necks—one of them spoke.

"If you want to get rid of Russell, it has to be now. He's taken over the deliveries. Just give the order."

Another older Mexican man, with a calculating gaze, shook his head from across the group.

"It's impossible now. Titan won't accept another offer. And Russell's pulling in more than anyone else we've had."

Tomás Salamanca lit a cigarette, exhaling the smoke slowly.

"If he falls, we'll find another. Then we make a new offer to Titan… whether he accepts or not. I'm done looking at that smug redhead." He took a long drag, eyes hard. "We lose a bit of money now, we make it back later. What matters is, Russell's going to disappear. Soon. We're not staying at his mercy."

Interlude — Part 3: More Than Just Candles on the CakeJanuary 2014 — 1:05 PM

The winter afternoon was clear, sunlight filtering through the window of the Grayson family's living room. The smell of freshly baked cake mingled with the sound of voices, laughter, and footsteps throughout the house.

Kai hadn't been warned. When he opened the door after hearing the doorbell, he found Kiana standing there with a reserved smile, and Cassie beside her holding a gift bag. Behind them were Viktor and the Oakwood boxing club crew — Amy, Nick, Nicole, and Dex — carrying soda bottles and bags of snacks.

"Happy birthday, Grey...son, Kai Greyson," Viktor said with a smirk, pushing one of the bags into his arms. "And don't start with that 'I don't like parties' speech."

Kai raised an eyebrow. He didn't have time to complain, just sighed and stepped aside to let them in. Moments later, Derick, July, Becky, and William arrived, completing the unlikely mix of guests.

The house felt smaller with so many people. Amy and Nicole struck up a conversation with Mark while Dex and Nick tested the video game in the living room.

"So you really do have a twin brother!" said Amy, watching Mark and Kai exchange glances from the corners of their eyes.

"Yeah," Mark replied with a smile.

Viktor stepped forward and crossed his arms. "And it's not just the face. Smart parents. They made a backup kid. Lose one, you've still got the other."

July nudged Derick with a teasing look.

"Great, another one with your terrible sense of humor."

Derick didn't answer. His gaze was fixed elsewhere.

Cassie chuckled softly at Viktor's comment. "Yeah, but you can tell them apart. The one on the left is paler... you can tell he doesn't have a soul," she said, pointing at Kai.

Mark raised his eyebrows and let out a small laugh. "Funny... I never thought anyone else would notice that."

"Yeah, hilarious... glad you're all getting along," Kai muttered.

Kai simply looked away, as if the comment meant nothing, but he did notice how comfortable Cassie already seemed among them.

Kiana was helping Debbie set out cups on the table, and Cassie soon joined her, while Viktor and Kai exchanged quiet jokes in a corner, almost like they were speaking a different language.

Derick was still staring at the same spot as before.

The athletic build, the delicate and balanced face, the intense red hair that seemed to catch the room's light, and the sharp brown eyes following Kiana's conversation with Debbie.

"Who's that?" he whispered to Kai, approaching like he was after classified information.

"Cassie," Kai answered dryly.

"Cassie..." Derick repeated, already wearing the smile of someone with a plan. "Introduce me later."

"No."

"Why not?" he insisted, almost offended. "She's always near you. But isn't Kiana your girlfriend? You trying to get both?"

Kai rolled his eyes, unfazed. "She's not my girlfriend. And no, I'm not going for Cassie either."

Derick didn't give up, though. At one point, he even dramatized the situation to Mark, complaining that Kai was "hiding" the girl from him and that it was a betrayal of friendship. Mark just rolled his eyes, amused by the exaggeration.

Meanwhile, Mark had also noticed something else. Viktor and Kai were once again speaking quietly in the corner, trading glances and comments he couldn't hear.

There was nothing odd about the scene — but for some reason, it gave him the impression — or certainty — that Viktor knew a side of his brother that he himself didn't.

Later on, near the end of the party, Derick, July, Becky, and even Mark were surprised by how many friends Kai had. Even William made a comment about.

"If someone told me Kai was popular, I'd have denied it right away."

Kai just shrugged, as if it didn't matter… but deep down, he felt that maybe… he actually enjoyed that day.