Chapter Text
The monstrous ship touched down with a deafening roar, blasting the dry earth with violent gusts. Mountains of dust churned into the air, thick and choking, carrying the scent of scorched metal and ozone—a signature of something foreign, something dangerous. General Grayson stood motionless, his sharp gaze locked onto the sleek black hull, its surface gleaming unnaturally under the harsh sun. Beside him, Ken stiffened, nostrils flaring as though scenting something foul. His eyes burned with cold, detached fury.
"Is the demon on board?" Ken growled, his voice low, edged with revulsion.
The ship’s door hissed open, releasing a gust of cool, sterile air tainted with something bitter—fuel and machinery. A lone figure strode down the gangway with slow, deliberate steps.
"Captain Saul Walters," General Grayson addressed the young man, his voice crisp, cutting through the tension. "By order of the High Council, your vessel must be searched and secured."
Saul stiffened. His breath caught as the sharp odor of the landing dust mixed with the acrid tang of sweat on his skin. A knot twisted in his chest. His hands clenched at his sides, his voice cracking under the weight of uncertainty. "What? Why?"
Before Grayson could respond, another voice sliced through the tension.
"Saul."
Every soldier snapped to attention. Their weapons lifted in a synchronized motion, aimed at the doorway. The figure leaned casually against the frame, a smirk playing at his lips. Adam Blackwood’s presence carried something unnatural—like the scent of charged air before a storm, like something just beyond human.
Ken wasted no time. His rifle snapped up, barrel dead center on Adam’s chest.
"Adam Blackwood," Grayson’s voice was colder now, void of doubt. "You are under arrest for treason."
Adam merely shrugged, utterly unfazed. "Treason? I assure you, I’ve done nothing wrong."
Saul’s pulse thundered in his ears. His heart pounded so hard it hurt. He turned toward Adam, searching his face for answers he knew he wouldn’t find. His breath faltered. His legs felt weaker than they had in years.
Ken didn’t hesitate. The instant Adam’s fingers twitched—so slight, so subtle Ken struck. His rifle slammed into Adam’s gut with brutal efficiency. The impact forced a sharp breath from Adam’s lungs, sending him staggering back, the taste of blood coppery, hot flooding his mouth.
Saul surged forward, grey eyes wide, blind panic driving him. "Stop! What are you doing?! Where’s the proof?!"
His shout was raw, trembling. He reached for Adam but was instantly restrained. A soldier gripped his arm like iron, and Saul struggled, desperate to break free. His mind raced—this couldn’t be happening.
Ken grabbed Adam by the hair, yanking him forward with a force meant not to restrain, but to hurt. To remind him what he truly was. A heartless monster. A killing machine.
Without pause, Ken reached forward and wrenched Adam’s magic core from his body.
Saul’s breath caught. His body went rigid, ice washing over his spine. The air crackled with energy—fizzling out, extinguished leaving behind a dark crystal orb that was neatly placed in a reinforced container blood still dripping from its surface . Blood leaked slowly from Adam’s lips, staining his chin, dripping onto the dust-caked ground, mingling with the earth.
"Get up," Ken commanded, his voice devoid of emotion.
Adam didn't move.
"I said get up, you fucking demon!" Ken’s voice was sharper now, tinged with disgust. He punctuated his words with a brutal kick to Adam’s stomach. His steel toe shoe sinking into soft flesh bruising it. Adam hit the ground hard, the impact rattling his bones. Another savage blow crashed against his skull. The bitter taste of iron once again filled his mouth.
Saul thrashed against the soldiers holding him back. His eyes burned. "Stop it! Stop it! This isn’t justice!"
Grayson lifted a hand, flicking his wrist. "Take him."
The restraints snapped onto Adam’s wrists—heavy, lined with something cold, something numbing. He was hauled to his feet, his breath ragged, sweat cooling against his bloodied battered skin.
Ken stalked forward, eyes fixed on him.
"Why did you do it?" Ken’s voice was low, simmering with unspoken fury.
Adam exhaled, slow, his blood stained lips pulling into a faint, tired smile. "Do what?"
"You know what."
Adam tilted his head slightly eyes glowing with barely contained bloodlust and pain, "I’ve done many things. Be more specific."
Ken’s grip tightened on Adam’s arm undoubtedly leaving dark bruises where his fingers were. "You know exactly what I mean!"
"Ah, yes." For the first time since the fight began , Adam’s smile faded. His voice, so often laced with amusement, softened lightly. "Unfortunately, I don’t know who you’re referring to. There were many."
Ken snarled, dragging Adam forward. The sharp scent of blood mixed with sweat and dust, creating something sickly in the air. He shoved Adam hard against the transport’s steel wall. His head smacked against it with a dull, wet crack before his body collapsed onto the cold ground blood pooling around Adam’s prone body.