Silence.
That was all that stood between Ares and Marcus after his family left. Ares felt that familiar feeling returning, embracing him and buffing him up for what he wanted to ask.
"How are you feeling?" Marcus's voice broke the silence, but not for long; the silence came back, deepening.
Ares didn't reply; he just stared, his expression forlorn.
"I will destroy them all." The words came out in a tone so calm it was chilling.
Silence.
"You know, I felt it too," Marcus's words reached him.
"Felt what?"
"The reason your Bastion is no more," Marcus clarified. "I am not meant to share this with you, but I couldn't care less."
"Whatever destroyed your home, I have never felt anything like that before. Hell, I am not sure any of the Bastions stand a chance against whatever that thing was."
"Whatever it is, I will destroy it," Ares swore, tightening his fist as he looked into Marcus's eye. He expected to see mockery or unbelief in the man's eye, but Marcus looked at him like he believed him.
"What program are you on?" Marcus asked.
"Engineering."
"I could tell," he spoke with a grin. "You look like a nerd"
His enthusiasm didn't reach Are, his gaze remained fixed on his, Cold and Detached.
"For a moment there, I would have sworn you were someone who had seen their fair share of bloodshed, but I guess grief can do that too," Marcus spoke, his tone accommodating.
"I want to become a Kaos warrior," Ares swore. It was what was in his mind; it was what he wanted to ask Marcus. How do I become a Kaos Warrior? But it came out as a declaration.
He waited for that scornful look, for the abrupt dismissal, but it didn't come. Marcus just stared at him, and within those eyes, he saw understanding. It urged him to ask his question. "How can I do it?"
"What's your SQ?" Marcus asked.
"16," Ares said, his own tone ridiculing.
"16," Marcus echoed his words back, his tone unnervingly neutral. "And how old are you?"
"16," Ares answered again, his voice lower.
Then he noticed the change in Marcus's gaze—that dismissal, not in a scornful way as he had expected, but one laced with a hint of regret.
"You know, it's a little too late for that," Marcus spoke. "You are aware of the Blood Culling."
"Yes," Ares answered, but Marcus was in no hurry to speak, his gaze just lingering on him, so he continued.
"An annual competition where new bloods are chosen to join the Kaos Alliance."
Marcus nodded. "And you are aware only those below the age of seventeen are allowed to participate."
Ares nodded.
"And you are aware only young bloods whose Somatic Quality exceeds 40 are allowed to participate."
Ares nodded again; he knew that much.
"And you know the Culling is less than three months away?" Marcus asked, the dismissal gone from his gaze, replaced by something else—curiosity, maybe.
"Yes," Ares answered.
Marcus studied him silently, unfurling his fingers.
"Your SQ is 16," he folded in a finger. "You have less than three months to the Culling," he folded in another, "and you probably don't have any combat training."
Each of Marcus's sentences felt like a hammer striking Ares's chest, but the flame in his heart did not waver. He knew the reality of the situation; that was why he wanted to ask Marcus.
"How about the military route?"
Marcus unfurled his hands. "The power you seek, you won't find it there."
"You can inflict much more damage on the Alienoids as an engineer than you would as a soldier."
That was not what I wanted to hear, Ares found himself thinking.
"I am going to become a Kaos Warrior," he found himself telling Marcus again as he stood.
The sentence was not just a declaration to Marcus, it was an order to himself, he was going to become an existence that will wreck as much destruction to the Alienoids as they did to his home, and nothing will stop that from happening.
"Thank you for the meal," he spoke with a slight bow. "And thank you for saving me."
He deepened his bow.
"No problem, Baldy," Marcus acknowledged.
"Do you remember how you lost your hair?" he asked in a joking tone.
Ares touched the smooth, bald skin of his head. I really need to get a cap, he swore to himself.
"I can't recall. The last I remember was suffocating and blacking out."
Marcus nodded.
"You know, kid, I am sure the government will figure something out for you, but if you ever need anything or help, don't hesitate to let me know."
Ares gave a little smile, a polite facial response, nothing from the heart.
"I can see you have a Halocomm already," Marcus spoke just as Ares turned.
"Yhh."
"Then add me as your contact; we can always catch up anytime."
Ares pointed his right hand outward towards Marcus; the man did the same with his own.
Ding. A notification popped up, hovering above Ares's Halocomm.
[New Contact Added: Kaptainn Marcus Rend]
"Make sure to visit me again soon!" Marcus's voice reached Ares as he closed the door.
Weak.
His knees buckled as the door slid shut. He was angry, he was pissed, he wanted to destroy them all, but he had to be real.
I am no combat genius. Even the most exaggerated genius can't add 24 SQ points in three months. How do I become a Kaos warrior when my path is already set?
Ares carried himself with difficulty back to his room on the Teen Floor. The moment he reached it, he let his body fall straight onto the bed like a felled tree.
Tears slid down his ears, unaccompanied by sniffles, wails, or memories. Just silence.