corlis
vortex furrowed his brow and sighed slowly, as if trying to contain a stubborn disappointment, then added: "If I die here, the name of your family, which you proudly chant, will be stained with betrayal.
Everyone will remember you as a rebellious faction that tried to swallow the throne. History will see you only as traitors.
I'm giving you a chance to change history from the present, without needing to go back to the past."
Lion lifted his head, his eyes burning with unwavering determination. Staring directly into Vortex's eyes, he spat a glob of blood onto his cloak, as if stamping a final seal of rejection.
He spoke with a trembling voice yet full of resolve: "I'd rather be called a traitor in the pages of history than be a traitor in my reality… I don't need the world's forgiveness as long as I haven't betrayed myself. As for you, don't offer me salvation while you were the cause of our ruin… you were the hand that pushed us toward the abyss, and now you pretend to show mercy?"
He paused for a moment, then continued: "You planned this moment for years, so enjoy your moment of victory; don't ruin it now by claiming nobility."
vortex gave a narrow smile, devoid of warmth, letting Lion's blood-stained cloak slide off his shoulders and fall to the ground. He looked at it for a moment, as if it carried a meaning far greater than just a soiled piece of cloth, then said, "It would be disrespectful to wear a fresh cloak while announcing the death of a queen… A sorrowful moment like this leaves no room for adornment. It would look as if I were celebrating."
He paused, as though allowing his words to ferment in the air, then turned his face toward Lion, his voice now carrying a more personal tone, revealing more of what lay within him: "You know, Lord Lion.
I despise the neutral ones. Those who refuse to choose a side, thinking that standing in the middle will grant them safety. Those who dance on both ropes, seeking their benefit in every direction—no trust is given to them, and no respect do they deserve."
He stepped closer, his eyes studying Lion intently, and spoke in a tone that resembled a confession: "But you are not one of them. Despite everything… I like your loyalty.
I like that you stood where you chose to stand from the very beginning and stayed there, even when the scales never tipped in your favor."
His gaze drifted toward the far wall, as if speaking more to himself than to Lion: "I wish… you hadn't stood against me. I wish you had been by my side. We could have built something great.
But you… you clung to your stance, to the side you chose, even in your worst moments… and that is exactly why I respect you."
Vortex walked past Lion toward the other members of the garow family, lined up side by side, shackled, their faces pale between sorrow, shock, and resignation.
He stopped for a moment, then raised his hand and gestured toward them.
"Tell me, Mr. Lion… did your family truly agree to these decisions you made in their name? Was the word unanimous? Or were you the only one who decided… and they had no choice but to obey, even if your orders led them to their doom?"
He slowly turned toward him, then continued, as if driving a wedge into a man's heart: "Perhaps you see yourself as the leader, the defender, the moral compass… but what about them?
Did you ask if they were willing to die for your principles? Do you know what's going through their hearts right now?"
Lion looked at his family, the weight of Vortex's words seeping into his expression, as if for the first time since this nightmare began, he wondered… had he dragged them into this fate by his decision alone?
He studied their faces one by one—his wife, his children, his siblings—a heavy moment of silence.
Then came the voice of his eldest son, Ron garow, dripping with resolve: "The Jarrow family may not have the grandeur of the D gar. We did not build cities, but we built ships.
in our family, When a leader makes a decision in a decisive moment—especially when it concerns honor and pride—we do not question it, we do not weaken his front.
We stand behind him. Not because we are blind or forced, but because we know who he is, we trust him, and we share the same principle.
From the moment one of us is born under the garow name, they are raised on a single rule: if you are a child of this family… be worthy of it."
Vortax let out a mocking laugh."You worship your principles far too much."
Ron exchanged glances with his family members, as if it were a private language understood only by them.
he turned his eyes back to the edge and said with a final, decisive tone: "You will never understand what we are doing, Vortex, because quite simply… you don't know what the word 'family' means."
Ron's last words clearly provoked Vortex. His brows knitted in an expression of resentment, and words began to gather on his lips, but before he could speak them, the garow family moved as a single body— driven by an instinct for sacrifice—their only goal being to drag this traitor with them into the abyss.
Before Vortex could grasp what was happening, he raised his hands before his face in a reflexive motion—fear, a desperate defense of a body that had never learned to fight. But it was useless. The bodies of the Jarrows shoved him
forcefully toward the edge, and all of them plunged from a height of nearly fifteen meters. The fall was not fatal, but it was enough to shatter the bones of a man like him, who had never endured any real physical trial.
Worse still, the chain of shackles wound around his neck and began to tighten haphazardly during the fall, gradually turning into a noose that could end his life in an instant if one of them clung to the wall's edge.
He frantically tried to tear the chain away, his trembling fingers groping for the metal links in hysterical gasps, but the fall was faster than his hands.
Before their bodies struck the ground, Gareth intervened swiftly. With two precise blows, he broke the chain from both sides, freeing Vortex's neck at the very last moment. Then he seized him with one hand and leapt back onto the platform, carrying him in his arms.
At that same moment, the leaders of the Storm Squad rescued the members of the garow family and pulled them back onto the rostrum, foiling their suicidal plan.
Vortex fell to his knees and reached for his swollen neck, reddened by the pressure.
Then he rose slowly, his eyes blazing with fury, the arrogant composure that once defined his presence now utterly gone.
With heavy steps, he raised his foot and kicked Leon hard in the stomach—a violent strike that made his body bend and collapse to his knees.
he delivered a powerful punch to Ron's face, snapping his head to the side; a drop of blood flew from the corner of his mouth before he crashed to the ground.
Vortex stood, gasping for breath, his face flushed, his hand wiping the redness from his face inflamed with rage.
he slicked back his disheveled hair and said in a sharp voice: "Look at the savage things you drive me to do. I have never struck anyone in my life. I have never once resorted to violence. But you… you force me to abandon everything I believed in, all for the sake of imposing order."
A dry laugh escaped Lion's throat, its tone mixing scorn with the bitterness of the moment. His voice shook as he said: "In truth… the scene was laughable. I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw that expression on your face! You suddenly turned into a frightened child."
Vortex's jaw tightened, as though the words had stabbed his pride. He closed his eyes, exhaling deeply in an attempt to restrain himself, not to let this last mockery drag him into losing control completely.
"Justice gave you a chance. Mercy gave you a choice. But now… it is you alone who chose your fate. So bear the consequences."