The rain fell like ash.
Cyrus and Artemis stared at each other across the corridor, the silence between them filled with the echo of gunfire outside the crumbling palace walls. When Rex's footsteps faded into the storm, they finally broke into a sprint after him, boots slamming against wet concrete.
"Your Majesty!" Artemis shouted. "You owe us an answer!"
They caught up just as Rex reached the hangar. His long coat whipped in the wind, and for a moment his silhouette seemed carved from iron.
"Who is the real enemy?" they demanded together.
Rex turned slowly, the rain tracing cold lines down his scarred face. His eyes were empty but for the faint reflection of distant explosions."I'll tell you in five days," he said. "But right now, I'm going to Russia. There's something buried there — a relic from the Cold War. A bomb that never went off."
Cyrus blinked. "How do you know that, my king?"
Rex's mouth curled into something between a smile and a wound. "Because history lies. If you trace the records, there was never an atomic bomb that destroyed the capital of Germany. And yet, the city still burns beneath its silence."
He turned toward the waiting vessel — a black-hulled warship, engines idling like a growling beast."We leave in thirty minutes," he said. "Get on the boat."
Fourteen hours later, the sea spat them onto the shores of a dying town caught between Russia and Ukraine. The air smelled of metal and rot. Buildings leaned like old men begging for mercy. The crack of distant rifles haunted every step.
Rex led his royal guard through the ruins, eyes scanning for movement. When he stopped, it was beside the shattered remains of a hospital. Inside, amid the stench of burned fabric and antiseptic, two bodies lay still on gurneys.
"Doctors," Rex murmured, kneeling. "They're still breathing."
With a flick of his wrist, he activated a small machine no bigger than a spider — one of his creations, the Mini Robert. It crawled across the torn flesh of the man's shoulder and the woman's ribs, sealing wounds with microscopic sutures of light.
Minutes passed. Then the woman gasped.
Lisa Bookman awoke first, her eyes wild with disbelief. Her husband, Shawn, stirred beside her, reaching instinctively for her hand. When they saw Rex — his soldiers in dark armor behind him — they recoiled as if facing a ghost.
Rex stood over them, expression unreadable. "I healed you," he said, "for one purpose only — to help me end this war."
Shawn's voice rasped with fury. "You think saving us gives you the right to command us? We've lost everything! Our children… our home…"
Rex's gaze softened for the first time. "I know," he said quietly. "I saw their names in the rubble outside. They didn't deserve to die. No child does."
Lisa's eyes filled with tears. "Who are you to speak of justice?"
He straightened, his voice hardening again. "I am Rex Draven Kane. I am the man the governments call a terrorist and the dying call a savior. I need your skills — your hands, your knowledge — to heal what's left of my army. In return, I offer truth."
Shawn blinked in disbelief. "Rex Draven Kane… the one who challenged the nations?"
Rex nodded once. "Yes. The same."
At that moment, Artemis entered the ruined hospital, blood spattering her armor. "My king," she said, kneeling. "The Russian base outside town has been silenced."
Seconds later, Cyrus stepped in behind her, rifle slung across his shoulder. "The Ukrainian soldiers have withdrawn, as ordered. No casualties. Their camp is gone."
Rex regarded them both, then turned back to the Bookmans. "You see? Even war can show restraint. Join me, and together we can clean this world of the poison that made it this way."
Shawn looked to his wife, then back to Rex. "If we help you," he said slowly, "what will you give us in return?"
Rex didn't hesitate. "Peace. Not the kind written in treaties, but the kind that comes after the blood dries. I'll give you every answer you seek — especially who started this war. Because it wasn't Russia."
Lisa frowned. "Then who?"
Rex's eyes burned like dying coals. "You'll see soon enough. But first, follow me. The truth has a price."
Shawn exhaled, then nodded. "When do we leave?"
"In an hour."
The ship cut across the black sea like a blade through glass. The sky hung heavy with storm clouds, and lightning flashed across the deck as the crew worked in silence.
Lisa and Shawn sat together near the stern, watching the horizon. "He's not just a soldier," Lisa whispered. "He's something else. Something broken."
"Broken things can still be dangerous," Shawn replied.
From the bridge, Rex watched them with distant eyes. Artemis approached, her face pale beneath the dim lights. "My king," she said, "they keep asking who the enemy is. What should I tell them?"
"Tell them nothing," Rex said. "Not until we find the last three generals of my Ten Commandments. They'll command the rest of our forces."
"And after that?" she asked.
"After that," he said, "we go west — New York, Washington, California. The truth waits there."
Cyrus appeared beside them, rain dripping from his hood. "And what of you, my king?"
Rex's voice was a low growl. "I'll go to Vietnam. I have to reclaim the Spear — and the man guarding it. Without him, this war is already lost."
Lightning split the clouds, and for a heartbeat, the light revealed Rex's face — pale, haunted, and carved with exhaustion.
Cyrus bowed his head. "Yes, my king."
Rex turned away, staring into the storm. Somewhere beneath that endless sea lay a bomb that never detonated, a lie that had rewritten history, and a truth so dangerous that men built nations to bury it.
He whispered to himself, so softly that no one could hear:"Five days. Then they'll all see who the real enemy is.