Adam was sent to a distant planet—though sent felt like the wrong word. He had been taken. The two men flew him deep into the swirling gases of a gas giant, descending farther than seemed possible. The thick, shifting clouds outside gave no sense of direction, only an endless expanse of color and movement. Just as he began to wonder if there was a surface at all, they finally landed.
The air inside the landing bay was dense, heavier than he was used to. Adam was escorted into a towering structure carved directly from the mountainside. It reminded him of D'sul, but where that city had been austere, this place was extravagant—every wall smoothed to perfection, adorned with intricate etchings that pulsed faintly with energy.
A pair of doors, taller than any he had seen before, parted smoothly as the men flanking him spoke.
"Adam Blomen approaches the council."
They left him there. Alone.
Before him, seven figures sat in a semi-circle, each in a high-backed seat that seemed to rise from the floor itself. The one in the center, an older man with piercing silver eyes, leaned forward slightly.
"We, the council, represent the Fold. You are here to answer for your crimes against us."
Adam frowned. The Fold? He had never heard of them before. And what crimes? He remained silent, waiting for them to explain—he wasn't about to incriminate himself.
The silver-eyed man continued.
"You provided a sample of your blood to the waste planet, Eppa. Its people used it to alter their DNA. Now, they have gained the ability to duplicate." His voice was calm, detached, but the next words carried a quiet finality. "As per Colia law, you are to eliminate every last one of them."
Adam stiffened. "You want me to commit genocide?"
The man's expression didn't change. "You have already eliminated two-thirds of their species. You will simply be finishing what you started. If you are concerned about drawing attention—don't be. Eppa is a waste planet. No one will care."
The room fell silent.
Adam's pulse pounded in his ears. He had known his blood was valuable, but this? He never could have imagined. And now they expected him to erase an entire people—as if wiping out two-thirds of them already hadn't been enough.
Adam clenched his fists, forcing himself to stay calm. His voice was steady, but beneath it was a quiet edge of defiance.
"First of all, I did not commit genocide. The ones I killed were infected skinheads. If I hadn't stopped them, the entire population would have been consumed by the infection. I gave my blood to Eppa so they could develop a vaccine—to prevent the spread, not to alter their DNA."
The silver-eyed man regarded him with a cold, unreadable expression. The rest of the council remained silent, watching.
Adam took a slow breath, his mind working fast. Did they already know this? If they did, then this trial wasn't about justice—it was about control.
"And yet," the man said, his tone as smooth as polished stone, "the result remains the same. They have changed. And now they must be erased."
Adam's pulse pounded in his ears. They didn't care about why he had done it. They only cared about the outcome.
His jaw tightened. "If they've evolved, that's not my crime to answer for. It's their future to decide."
A long silence followed. Then, a different council member—a woman with dark, piercing eyes—spoke for the first time.
"The decision is made. You will complete the purge."
Adam's gut twisted. He had walked into this room as a defendant. Now, he was being made into an executioner.
And he had no intention of playing along.
Before Adam could respond, another man on the council spoke. His voice was smooth, calculated.
"There is another option," he said. "Join the Eightfold, and you will not have to kill them. But you will be responsible for them—for the rest of your life."
Adam let out a sharp breath, a bitter smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. There it is.
"Oh, I see now," he said, shaking his head. "This is Sern's doing. Blackmailing me into joining his Fold."
A ripple of murmurs passed through the council. The silver-eyed man remained impassive, but Adam didn't miss the way his fingers curled slightly against the armrest of his chair.
So, he was right.
This was never about justice. It was about control.
And now, he had a choice—kill an entire species or shackle himself to them forever.
Neither option was acceptable.
Adam crossed his arms, his expression hardening. "I'm not doing any of that. If you want them dead, do it yourself."
Silence fell over the chamber. The air felt heavier, charged with unspoken tension.
The silver-eyed man studied him for a long moment, then leaned back in his chair. "Disappointing," he said, though his tone lacked any real surprise.
The woman with the piercing gaze spoke again, her voice colder this time. "Then you leave us no choice."
Adam felt the shift before they even moved—guards, stepping from the shadows, weapons at the ready.
They had never intended to give him a choice.
Fine.
They would regret that.
Adam took a step back, weighing his next move, when a massive hand clamped around his torso like an iron vice.
He barely had time to react before he was lifted off the ground.
The thing holding him was a giant.
Its skin was deep red, thick like hardened leather. A black hoop ring pierced its broad nose, and a tattered rag was wrapped around its waist. Even kneeling, its head nearly grazed the ceiling. Muscles rippled beneath its skin as it held Adam effortlessly, as if he were nothing more than a child's toy.
Adam struggled, twisting and driving his elbows into the giant's hand, but it didn't flinch. He reached for the weapon he had taken—only to realize it had been knocked loose in the struggle.
Damn.
The council watched in silence, their expressions unreadable.
Then, after what felt like an eternity, the silver-eyed man lifted a hand. "Enough."
The giant paused, its grip still firm.
"Let him go," the old man ordered.
Without hesitation, the giant released Adam.
Adam hit the ground hard, rolling to absorb the impact before springing back to his feet. He glanced up, but the giant was already gone—vanished as suddenly as it had appeared.
A trick of the Fold? A summoned entity? Or something else entirely?
His breath was heavy, his heart still racing, but he didn't let them see it. He straightened, meeting the council's gaze head-on.
He had just been reminded, in the most brutal way possible, exactly how powerful the Fold was.
But that didn't mean he was going to bow.
Not now. Not ever.