Chapter 10 – Results
The street lay silent.
Not in peace — but in shock.
Fires flickered softly along the broken pavement. The glow of shattered streetlights buzzed faintly above mangled steel, crumbling buildings, and splintered concrete. Entire chunks of the neighborhood were decimated. A crater, wide and deep, scarred the center of the alley like a fresh wound carved into the city's skin.
And in the middle of that chaos knelt Kaeron — still, silent, his breath shallow.
The rage that had once surged through his veins like wildfire was fading now, replaced by a dull, gnawing ache in every inch of his body. His arms, both shot clean through, throbbed with every twitch of movement. Blood had dried against his sleeves, staining the dark fabric and leaking onto the dust-covered ground beneath him.
His knees buckled.
His vision blurred.
The echoes of the fight lingered in his head — the stalker's cryptic lines, the eerie domain, the final explosion of power and fear — and now it was gone. All of it. Leaving only the raw weight of pain and the growing emptiness in his limbs.
The adrenaline had kept him upright.
But it was gone now.
Kaeron exhaled one last ragged breath before his body slumped to the side, collapsing beside the broken pavement.
Gasps erupted from the edges of the alley.
Civilians — those who had barely survived the blast radius of the battle — emerged from behind overturned carts, broken doorways, and shattered vehicles. Some stumbled toward him cautiously, their faces filled with a storm of emotions: awe, fear, confusion, even anger.
"Who… was he fighting?" someone asked aloud, voice trembling.
"I don't know," another replied, "but that wasn't a normal street fight."
"Are you seeing this destruction? The buildings—look at them. Just from their fists..."
They gathered around the crater like spectators at the aftermath of a war. One woman, her cheek bruised and hair covered in soot, stared at Kaeron's unconscious form.
"Someone call help," she murmured. "He's… bleeding bad."
Another bystander crouched beside Kaeron and carefully reached into his coat, pulling out a cracked communicator.
"His phone survived," the man muttered. "Barely."
He scrolled through the emergency contacts, then tapped the first one marked with a star: Eliana.
Hospital of Solkarion
By the time the med-tech ambulance arrived and carried Kaeron away, more than thirty people had gathered. Not all of them were sympathetic. Some cursed under their breath, unable to accept that this boy, barely past seventeen, could level city blocks like an ancient weapon from the Godfall Era.
But others stayed silent, heads low, whispering about the way he'd fought — not recklessly, but aware. Even in rage, he had never let his surroundings fall into complete chaos. No one had died.
And that restraint… might have saved many lives.
Inside the Hospital of Solkarion, one of the city's most advanced trauma centers, Kaeron was immediately taken into intensive care. His vitals were unstable. Both arms had suffered internal bleeding from gunshots. His knuckles were bruised to the bone. His ribs — cracked, maybe even fractured. The doctors worked fast.
The civilians who'd brought him waited outside the ward in tense silence. Some were injured themselves — minor burns, concussions, shards of debris lodged in their limbs — but they remained seated, refusing to leave until Kaeron was stable.
A decision was made — quiet but collective.
"We report this to the Sage Minister."
No incident of this magnitude could remain unspoken. Not in Solkarion. And certainly not when fear manipulation sub x's were involved.
Elsewhere…
The phone calls had spread quickly.
Eliana was the first to arrive.
Despite the hour — close to midnight — she ran into the hospital's front lobby in a panic, sweat on her brow, breath ragged. Her shoes barely touched the floor as she rushed down the hallway.
"Kaeron… where is he?!"
A nurse pointed toward the private trauma ward. Eliana didn't hesitate. She burst in and found him unconscious, hooked up to stabilizers, wrapped in bandages, his breath shallow.
Her heart dropped.
Without a word, she pulled a chair beside the bed, sat down, and leaned forward, gently brushing strands of black hair from his forehead. She swallowed her tears.
"You stupid, reckless idiot…"
She didn't sleep that night. Not even for a second.
Morning
The light of dawn crept slowly through the window blinds. Golden beams touched the edge of Kaeron's bed, giving his pale face a quiet warmth.
The door creaked open behind Eliana.
"Still here, I see," came a calm voice.
She turned. "Teacher Xavier…"
The instructor stepped inside, his expression unreadable, but his usual stoic demeanor was marked with concern.
Behind him, a small group entered. Students.
Lyra, with messy pink hair and puffy eyes, whispered, "Is he awake?"
Beside her, Nyra nodded silently, hands clasped in worry.
In the back, leaning against the wall, Auren gave a faint nod. "He gets himself in trouble the day he finds out his Xero Core? That's certainly a level of fun, isn't it?"
Eliana stood and walked over to Xavier.
"We don't know what happened," she admitted. "Only that he fought someone. And… it nearly destroyed a quarter of the southern alley."
Xavier folded his arms. "There are reports. Civilians spoke. A fear manipulator. Umbra Core pathway. Rare… and extremely dangerous. 2nd most powerful Sub X of Umbra pathway. The same Sub X that Auren got. But we know, Auren is far from learning that much. Which means, he was surely an expert in these fields."
"You think someone sent him?"
"I don't think, Eliana." His eyes narrowed. "I know someone did."
The others stayed back, unsure of what to say, as nurses filtered in and out. Some of Kaeron's classmates gathered at the door. The room was growing crowded.
But all waited for one thing.
One person.
Kaeron.
The boy who shattered a city block with fists alone.
The boy who stood up to fear — and won.
Then — a flicker.
A tremble.
Kaeron's fingers twitched.
It was faint, but real. The slight shift of muscle beneath gauze.
Lyra gasped. "Did you see that?"
Auren pushed off the wall and stepped forward, eyes sharpening.
Nyra's hand went to her mouth.
Xavier leaned in. "Kaeron…?"
Then, slowly, painfully — his eyes opened.
Dim at first, squinting against the morning light.
But alive.
Breathing.
Awake.