"Your mother didn't like it when we played basketball. She wasn't into the sport much, but she always came just to watch the sky with me. Rain or snow, night or day… she was always there."
Marc looked into his father's eyes, shining like stars. Maybe it was the first time he'd ever seen him like this — a look of happiness, lost in the vastness of the sky, but despite eveything, he knew that what he loved was still here on earth.
Marc wondered if he'd ever wear that kind of expression again.
"Wow. I guess that's what love is."
Then his father looked at him.
"You know what that feels like too, don't you, son?"
"No."
A sly smile appeared on his father's face as he gave him a little nudge with his elbow.
"Stop lying. With that good looks you got from me, you should have plenty of admirers. Plus, you've been hanging out with Elie a lot lately."
Marc blushed lightly but turned away, clearly embarrassed.
"We're working."
"For a few months?"
Marc had nothing to say to that and stayed quiet. He'd promised himself to always be there for her. This wasn't love — he was just going to protect her, no matter the cost, like any man should.
But his father didn't let it go.
"So I'm right, then?"
Marc hesitated before answering.
"I don't know."
His father smiled with warmth and understanding. A comforting, gentle face. Then he turned his gaze back to the stars.
"You'll understand soon enough."
A long silence settled between them, until David broke it after a deep thought.
"You know… this whole other world thing… your mother and I have a hard time believing it."
Marc pushed Elie out of his mind.
It was true. The stories about another world hadn't ended. The tales of an impending apocalypse were still there. Deep down, he hadn't forgotten — he had just ignored it. He wanted to enjoy this moment with his father, and for that, he had to forget.
Forget all those moments of rage, sadness, and despair. Forget that he'd killed millions. Forget that his amazing father might die if nothing was done.
He'd also forgotten that his parents worried about him too. After all, he'd been sort of kidnapped. When he came back, he'd tried to explain everything to them — but they didn't believe him.
It was hard to see that even now, when he needed comfort, no one believed him. And that was normal — no one could believe it.
Who would believe there was another world, where beings had the power to destroy the world at will? Who would believe some of them planned to come down and wipe everything out?
No one. No one but Marc and his friends… and Chris and Manon… could believe that. And sometimes, that hurt him as much as it helped.
"Yes."
His father's expression turned complicated.
"You disappear for three days and come back telling us this story out of nowhere… We worry, you know?"
"I know."
"We trust you. That's why we didn't call anyone. But if you're in trouble, tell us."
That hurt. A lot. Because he had told them, and they refused to believe.
"I already told you."
"I see."
David looked down at the grass, disappointed. It felt like his son didn't want to share, and Marc saw it. Without a word, he stood up.
"Look, Dad. Tell me what you think after this."
Marc grabbed one of the balls they'd brought and got ready to dunk. David expected a simple dunk, but quickly realized something was off.
Marc didn't jump high enough to reach the basket — but high enough to clear a four-story building. His face fell in shock. The world record must have been broken at least ten times on this jump. It didn't even make sense anymore because he didn't seem to be coming down.
"Marc, you…"
Marc finally landed after what felt like an eternity, and his dunk was nothing short of spectacular. He carefully avoided breaking the rim and landed softly, without a sound.
David was stunned. His face nearly frozen. He stayed like that for a good minute before looking at his son with amazement.
"You're the reincarnation of Michael Jordan?"
Marc exhaled.
"Dad."
"Alright, alright. But you have to admit — that wasn't exactly human, even for Michael."
"See? Do you believe me now?"
"I…"
David looked at his son. That jump was definitely not normal human behavior, but the story about another world and strange beings was harder to swallow. It was stuck in his mind. He didn't want to believe his son was in so much trouble without hearing about it.
"What else can you do?"
Marc looked at him with confidence.
"This."
Marc stirred his aura on the court, and a simple gust of wind swept across. His father felt it hit him square in the face. Surprised and excited like a kid at the idea of what his son could do, he asked for more.
Marc was surprised his father wasn't taking it seriously, but he couldn't resist showing more. He ran at probably supersonic speed, dribbled with insane skill, launched the ball so high it disappeared into the sky and came back down lightning fast, then did even crazier stuff…
David reacted with awe to every move, and Marc couldn't help but smile and laugh seeing his father acting like a kid. That moment was etched in Marc's memory forever…
After about ten minutes, they sat again and stared at the stars.
"My son, you're incredible."
Marc looked at him, doubtful.
"Aren't you scared?"
"How could I be scared of my own son?"
At those words, Marc shivered. It felt good to hear, despite everything he'd been through.
"And what about the rest — all the things I told you?"
David's face turned serious.
"You know… I still have trouble believing it all. But if it's true… if everything you say is true… you better stay home and don't move."
"But Dad…"
"Listen, Marc, this world is cruel enough. If you want to face that unknown world where people want you dead, I won't allow it. All these problems… never happened to me, and I don't know how to handle this as a parent. You'll be 18 soon and do whatever you want, but know that your mother and I want to protect you. If you have trouble, we'll fight it for you."
Marc looked at his father, but this time with concern.
"People will die if I don't do anything."
"And are you sure you can change anything?"
At those words, Marc's eyes widened. That was the question he'd been asking himself all along. The real problem. The thorn in his side. Of course, he didn't know. Of course, he didn't believe it.
He obviously couldn't do much, but…
"I'm not just going to sit here and pretend nothing's wrong."
David saw the determination in his son's eyes. He also saw hate and sadness, insecurity, rage, pain, and helplessness. What could a father do in this situation, knowing his son wouldn't be under control much longer? If what he said was true, he was going to lose him for sure. But he couldn't hold him back anymore.
"Are you sure about this?"
Marc answered honestly.
"No."
"Pfff, you and your mother sure have a talent for charging ahead headfirst when you want something."
"Huh?"
David sighed deeply and looked at his son with a faint smile.
"There's not much I can do to stop you…"
Then he stood up slowly and put a hand on Marc's shoulder.
"…but I can support you, as much as I should. So if you need help, just ask."
Marc looked into his father's eyes, then hugged him. The starry sky had never seemed so beautiful.
They both went back home. Marc lay down on his bed and drifted into a light sleep—lighter than he'd had in a long time..and he needed it.
What was coming next was far beyond anything he could have imagined.
Elie and Marc met up again in their street the next day.
"Astra, the third horseman of the apocalypse. The natural disaster. You'd think the four horsemen would be based on something that could kill in masses."
Elie paused for a moment before asking,
"Yeah, but why did she attack you head-on then? She could've just triggered an earthquake or a tsunami and be done with it."
Marc quickly felt the weight of the danger looming over them.
"This sucks. If she's throwing around stuff like that to finish us off, there's no way we can protect everyone."
Elie looked at him with a hint of fear but tried not to lose hope.
"Marc, don't forget—we're talking apocalypse. You gotta drop the idea of saving everyone at all costs."
Elie's words stung, but she was right. This was the very definition of an apocalypse.
So if beings with those deadly powers said it was true, then it had to be.
Their little weak, fragile world wasn't gonna stand a chance.
"You still might, if you had developed your super new powers."
"Marc..."
"I'm kidding. What we've got now is already something."
But both Marc and Elie knew deep down it wasn't enough.
Shortly after, Emperor Turcan arrived in a carriage, flanked by a horde of soldiers. Their blazing armor and the empire's glory reflected in every detail. It was impressive, even to them. Maybe a bit too over the top.
"Did he get permission to come here?"
Marc answered quickly,
"No, it's probably just an empty carriage. But I think we're gonna get noticed soon."
Suddenly, a torn piece of newspaper, caught by the wind, landed at Marc's feet. Feeling a slight movement on his foot, he looked down carefully, and his gaze hardened instantly.
He picked up the paper and showed it to Elie, his face filled with terror.
"Elie... Didn't we say the four horsemen were phenomena likely to kill in masses?"
Elie looked at the paper too and immediately understood what Marc meant. She went pale.
"So... how do you stop a war?"