The Weight of Our Return"
The van door slid open with a mechanical click.
A gust of hot wind slammed into their faces—accompanied not by silence, but by rage.
Hundreds—no, thousands—stood beyond the barricades, a living tide of fury. Signs were hoisted in trembling hands, scrawled with damning words:
"MONSTER.""NOT OUR HERO.""PRISMIC GATHERING = LIARS.""BLOOD ON HIS HANDS."
Kazimir stepped out first.
His boots touched the pavement. The sun caught the sharp black and blue edges of his hair. For a heartbeat, the world seemed to pause. But then—
"BOOOO!!!"
The roar erupted like a quake. Bottles were thrown. Rocks skittered across the street. A woman screamed with such venom her voice cracked:"You let him walk free?! My son died because of you!!"
Riah followed close behind, placing a hand lightly on Kazimir's back. Her white phoenix aura flickered around her fingers, trembling, resisting the urge to ignite. But she didn't act. She couldn't—not with how still he stood.
Kazimir didn't flinch. He didn't blink. His hands were open at his sides, but his gaze was somewhere else—far beyond the wall of hatred. Beyond the chants. Beyond the flashing cameras.
Tyrone stepped out last. And his heart cracked.
Because the last time he saw Kazimir cry… was on the Vrasnai throne. When he spoke to his mother's soul for the final time. When his tears weren't for himself—but for the world he was too broken to save.
Now?
Kazimir wasn't crying. But he looked like he should've been.
A little boy darted through the crowd, past security. He hurled a water balloon—smashing it against Kazimir's chest. The child screamed, "You're not a hero! You're just a killer!!"
Security moved to drag him away.
"Let him go," Kazimir said, voice steady. "They have every right."
The Prismic Gathering officials stood behind the trio in stunned silence. They had no words. No defense. Only shame.
Somewhere, a journalist's mic caught the phrase being passed like wildfire through the masses:
"A god of destruction walks among us, and they expect us to cheer?"
Kazimir took another step forward, his shoulders bowed slightly under the weight of a hundred invisible sins.
Riah reached for his hand.
He pulled away.
Not out of spite. Not out of pride.
But because in that moment, he believed he didn't deserve the warmth.
And as the van door closed behind them, and the screams swallowed the sky, Tyrone whispered under his breath:
"They'll never know the burden he's carrying… and how close he is to shattering beneath it."
The doors to the Prismic Gathering HQ slammed shut behind them. But the noise—the chants, the screams, the venom—bled through the glass.
Kazimir stood in the lobby like a statue carved in the shape of a man. Still soaked from the water balloon. Still bearing the boy's words like a blade sunk deep into his ribs.
The gathered staff and members of the Prismic elite parted like the sea.
No applause.
No greeting.
Just guilt.
Silence.
Riah removed her cloak, draped it over Kazimir's shoulders without a word, and walked forward—chin high, back straight, eyes burning—but even she couldn't stop the weight pressing down on them.
Tyrone held his bag loosely in one hand, his knuckles white.
He looked around. No one met his eyes.
They reached the elevators. As the doors slid shut, Kazimir looked back over his shoulder, just once.
Through the glass walls of the HQ, he saw the crowd continuing their chant. Security had formed a barrier, but the people weren't stopping. They weren't going home.
They wanted blood.
They wanted his.
Elsewhere — NEVE'S POV
From the upper atrium, behind a one-way glass balcony, Neve watched everything.
She gripped the railing until her fingertips went pale.
"Animals," she hissed through clenched teeth. "They don't even know what he's done for them."
Beside her, Jessie stood in solemn quiet, arms crossed, eyes unreadable.
"He's breaking," Neve said. "Piece by piece. And nobody… nobody's doing anything. Not even us."
She turned, stormed past the observation deck toward the descending staircase—but Jessie grabbed her wrist.
"Neve."
"What?" she snapped.
"We can't silence the world."
"But we can stand with him," Neve said, her voice cracking.
Jessie looked down at the lobby where Kazimir, Riah, and Tyrone had just vanished behind the elevator doors.
"He's not asking for us to."
"That's the problem!" Neve shouted. "He never does!"
She ripped her wrist free, storming down the stairs.
HQ – Elevator Arrival
The elevator doors opened with a soft ding.
Kazimir stepped out into the dim hallway of their private wing. No cameras. No screams.
Only the sound of dripping water from his soaked shirt.
Tyrone walked past him to the common room and collapsed on the couch, pressing his hands to his eyes.
"...They hate us, man," Tyrone mumbled. "We bled. We nearly died in that dungeon. And they hate us."
Kazimir said nothing. He leaned against the wall, closed his eyes.
"I used to think silence meant peace," he finally murmured. "But now it just means no one has the courage to say it to my face."
Riah watched him from across the hallway. She opened her mouth—then closed it. Then said quietly:
"You don't need to carry this alone."
"I do," Kazimir said. "Because if I don't, no one else will."
A long silence.
Then Neve stormed in, eyes wet with tears, rage brimming in her voice.
"You arrogant bastard," she said. "Do you really think this is only about you?"
Kazimir looked at her, hollow-eyed.
Neve continued, her voice shaking: "We fought with you. Bled beside you. Lost people beside you. And still… you look at us like you're the only one standing in the fire."
She took a step forward, slamming her fist against his chest.
"We're all burning, Kazimir. All of us. So don't you dare stand there and act like this loneliness is your fate. We chose to be with you. You don't get to throw us away."
Riah's eyes shimmered. Tyrone sat up, stunned.
Kazimir didn't respond.
Neve's voice dropped to a whisper.
"I know you want to protect us from the pain… but the truth is, we're already hurting. And it hurts more when you keep locking yourself in that cage made of guilt."
Kazimir looked away.
"I'm not your savior," he whispered.
"No," Neve said. "You're our friend. Start acting like one."