They were home now. The house was quiet in that uneasy, post-storm way—windows still streaked with rain, the air smelling faintly like wet concrete and iron.
Ethan closed the door behind them and turned to Emma.
"You're not going out," he said.
Emma looked at him. Calm. Listening.
"For now, you stay home," he continued. "You rest. You think. You recover."
A pause.
"You can bring people here. Anyone you trust. But you don't leave."
She nodded once. No argument.
That's when her phone vibrated.
DIANA CALLING.
Emma answered.
Before she could even speak—
"I TOLD YOU WE WILL GO OUT—"
Diana's voice blasted through the phone like a grenade.
"Diana," Emma said flatly, pulling the phone a little away from her ear.
"YOU CAN'T JUST DISAPPEAR LIKE THAT. DO YOU KNOW HOW BORED I AM?? I WAS READY. I EVEN PUT ON MY GOOD SHOES."
Emma exhaled. Just slightly.
"You can come to my house."
There was a half-second of silence.
Then—
"…Wait. Your house?"
"Yes."
Another pause.
"…I'M COMING."
The call ended immediately.
Emma stared at the phone for a moment, then slipped it into her pocket.
Ethan watched her.
"She loud?" he asked.
"She's Diana," Emma replied.
That explained everything.
---
Diana arrived less than thirty minutes later.
No knock.
The doorbell was slammed.
Ethan opened the door just in time for Diana to practically throw herself inside.
"EMMA—"
She stopped short when she saw Ethan standing there.
"…Oh."
Instant posture change.
"Good evening, sir," Diana said, suddenly polite in the most unconvincing way possible.
Ethan raised an eyebrow.
Emma stepped into view behind him.
"She's fine," Ethan said calmly. "Alive. Mostly."
Diana's eyes snapped to Emma.
"…You're bleeding."
"It's old," Emma said.
Diana crossed the room in three steps and grabbed Emma by the shoulders, inspecting her face, arms, neck—
"ARE YOU INSANE?? YOU LOOK LIKE YOU FOUGHT A TRUCK."
Emma blinked. "It was a bear."
Diana froze.
"…What."
"A robot bear," Emma clarified.
"That's NOT BETTER."
Diana pulled her into a hug so tight it almost hurt.
Emma stiffened for half a second—then didn't push her away.
Ethan watched quietly.
After a moment, Diana pulled back, eyes burning with concern.
"You're not going anywhere," Diana declared. "I'm staying. If something attacks this house, I'm fighting it."
"what-" Emma said.
"I WILL PUNCH THEM."
Ethan sighed.
"…Tea?" he offered.
"Yes," Diana said immediately.
Emma nodded once.
Ethan stood apart from them.
Emma and Diana's voices drifted through the house—Diana loud, animated, complaining about everything at once; Emma replying with short, dry answers. Normal. Alive. Safe.
That should've been enough.
But then it hit him.
A sharp, quiet ache in his chest—not physical pain, not exactly. Something deeper. Older.
He pressed a hand lightly over his heart and exhaled through his nose.
"…Damn it."
He walked to the shelf in the living room, fingers moving almost on their own. He pulled out a framed photograph, worn slightly at the edges.
Two younger men.
Himself—Smirking proudly
And beside him… Vencor.
Arms over each other's shoulders. Dirt on their faces. Blood on their clothes. Victorious. Alive. Brothers, not by blood, but by war.
Ethan stared at it.
He remembered the laughter. The late nights. The plans they made when everything was over. The promises. The trust.
And how it ended.
How he had looked into Vencor's eyes when he realized there was no other choice.
How his hand didn't shake.
How his heart did.
"I killed you," Ethan murmured quietly, more to himself than to the room.
"My best friend."
The house noise faded behind him.
No anger crossed his face. No tears. Just a deep, heavy sadness settling into his bones—the kind that never really leaves.
He lowered himself onto the chair, still holding the picture.
"I didn't want this life for her," he whispered.
"For Emma."
His jaw tightened.
From the other room, Diana laughed loudly at something stupid. Emma gave a faint, almost reluctant huff of amusement.
Ethan closed his eyes for a moment.
Then he set the picture face-down on the table.
---
Ethan finished pouring the tea and set the cups down for Emma and Diana. He didn't stay. Just nodded once, already elsewhere in his head.
He moved quietly to the bedroom.
Asuka was asleep.
Peaceful. Her breathing slow, steady. No fear on her face anymore. Ethan stood there for a few seconds longer than necessary, watching her chest rise and fall, as if anchoring himself to that normality.
"…Sleep," he murmured.
Then he stepped back outside.
The night air hit him—and with it, a thought.
The bear.
His eyes widened slightly.
"…Shit."
He turned sharply and moved fast, boots crunching against gravel as he reached the place where the robotic bear had fallen.
Empty.
No broken metal.
No blood.
No body.
Gone.
Ethan's jaw tightened. His hand curled slowly into a fist.
He searched.
Around the trees. Behind the rocks. Along the fence line. Every shadow, every sound. His instincts screamed—too quiet, too clean.
Then—
A voice.
Calm. Mocking. Familiar in the worst way.
"I have a surprise for you."
Ethan froze.
He turned.
Vex stood there, relaxed, hands behind his back like this was a friendly meeting. The dim light revealed something behind him—something tall, unmoving.
Ethan's eyes shifted past Vex.
And stopped.
His breath caught.
"…No."
It was Vencor.
Or what was left of him.
Half of his body was metal—rusted, exposed mechanisms fused into old flesh. One arm gone, replaced by crude machinery. His chest barely moved, wires pulsing where a heart should've been.
His face—
Still his face.
Eyes cloudy. Empty. Yet alive.
Barely.
His mouth moved slowly, stiffly.
"Why…"
Just one word.
Again.
"Why…"
Ethan didn't move.
Didn't blink.
Didn't breathe.
The world narrowed to that single sound.
"…Vencor," Ethan said quietly.
Vex smiled.
"You killed him once," Vex said casually. "I fixed what was left. Isn't it beautiful? He wakes up every day asking the same thing."
Vencor's head tilted slightly, struggling, gears whining softly.
"Why…"
Ethan took a step forward before he realized it.
His voice was calm.
"I had no choice."
Vencor's eyes twitched, trying to focus.
"…Why…"
Ethan swallowed hard.
His hands trembled for the first time in years.
Vex leaned closer, whispering like a friend sharing a secret.
"He doesn't understand betrayal," Vex said. "Pain, yes. Fear, yes. But betrayal?"
He chuckled softly.
"That's all he knows now."
Ethan looked at Vencor—his best friend, his brother, his past—trapped between death and life, forced to exist.
Something dark passed over Ethan's eyes.
Not rage.
Resolve.
"You crossed a line," Ethan said.
Vex laughed lightly.
"Oh, Ethan," he replied. "That line was crossed a long time ago."
Behind them, Vencor whispered once more.
"…Why…"
And this time, Ethan had no answer left to give.
The moment Vencor moved, Ethan knew.
This wasn't the man he once fought beside.
This wasn't flesh and bone anymore.
It was something else.
Vencor stepped forward—and the ground cracked under his foot.
Ethan reacted on instinct, twisting just as a metallic fist tore through the air where his head had been. The impact slammed into a tree behind him, snapping the trunk in half like wet wood.
Ethan's eyes widened.
"…You're stronger," he muttered.
Vencor didn't answer.
His head twitched violently, motors screaming, and then he charged.
The hit was brutal.
Vencor tackled Ethan straight through a rock formation, stone exploding outward as both bodies crashed through. Ethan rolled, coughing, blood running from his lip—but before he could recover, Vencor grabbed his ankle and swung him.
Ethan's body smashed into the ground again. And again. And again.
Each impact sounded like thunder.
Ethan twisted mid-swing, slamming his heel into Vencor's jaw. Metal dented. Flesh split. Oil and blood sprayed.
Vencor staggered—
Only for a mechanical spine to lock.
He straightened unnaturally.
"…Why."
Then he rushed again.
This time, Ethan met him head-on.
They collided—fist against fist.
The shockwave rippled outward, shattering windows in the distance. Ethan's boots dug into the earth, muscles screaming as he pushed back, teeth clenched.
Vencor's arm split open—blades sliding out with a shriek of metal.
He slashed.
Ethan barely twisted aside, the blade carving a deep gash across his shoulder. Blood poured instantly.
Vencor didn't stop.
He grabbed Ethan by the throat and lifted him off the ground, crushing pressure tightening. Ethan's vision blurred. His hands clawed at Vencor's arm—metal didn't give.
"…Why…" Vencor whispered again, closer now.
Ethan snarled.
With a violent jerk, he slammed his forehead into Vencor's face.
Once.
Twice.
A third time.
Something cracked.
Vencor released him.
Ethan dropped, gasping, then surged back up, driving his elbow straight into Vencor's chest—through exposed machinery. Sparks burst. Vencor screamed—a sound caught between human agony and mechanical distortion.
But he didn't fall.
Instead, he wrapped both arms around Ethan and crushed.
Ribs cracked.
Ethan screamed through gritted teeth and did the only thing left—
He grabbed the exposed core in Vencor's chest.
Bare-handed.
The heat burned his skin instantly.
Vencor convulsed, thrashing wildly, smashing Ethan into the ground repeatedly as Ethan held on, blood dripping from his hands, smoke rising from his palms.
"…WHY—" Vencor's voice distorted, breaking apart.
"YOU DIDN'T LISTEN TO ME" Ethan shouted.
With one final roar, Ethan ripped the core free.
Vencor froze.
Motors whined.
Lights flickered.
He fell to his knees.
"…Why…" he whispered one last time.
Then his body collapsed—finally still.
Ethan fell backward beside him, chest heaving, body broken, blood soaking into the ground. His hands shook violently.
From the shadows, Vex laughed softly.
"Even the great Ethan bleeds," he said. "How beautiful."
Ethan slowly turned his head toward the sound.
Eyes burning.
"You're dead," he said quietly.
Vex only smiled—and vanished into the dark, leaving Ethan alone beside the corpse of the man he once loved like family.
And far away—
Emma felt something break.
---
Ethan didn't stop.
At first, it was controlled—measured strikes, the kind meant to end a fight efficiently.
But then something snapped.
The grief.
The guilt.
The memory of who Vencor used to be.
Ethan Frowned.
He stepped forward and unleashed everything.
Punch after punch after punch.
No pauses. No breathing room.
His fists became a blur—left, right, elbow, knuckle—each impact landing with a sickening mix of metal crunching and wet flesh tearing. Vencor's body slammed back and forth under the assault, head snapping violently, jaw breaking, optics shattering.
Ethan didn't even look like he was fighting anymore.
He was venting.
Every strike was years of regret.
Every punch was an apology he never got to say.
His knuckles split open. Blood sprayed. Sparks flew.
Still—he kept punching.
Faster.
Harder.
Relentless.
No technique now—just pure aggression, overwhelming force meant to erase whatever stood in front of him.
And somewhere, burned into that motion—
That rhythm—
That instinct—
Was the exact thing Emma had always done.
The rapid punches.
The forward pressure.
The refusal to stop even when the enemy was already breaking.
It wasn't madness.
It was Elarat blood.
Ethan finally screamed and drove one last punch straight through Vencor's head.
Silence.
The body collapsed completely—no movement, no sound, no light.
Ethan stood there, chest heaving, fists trembling, blood dripping from his arms to the ground.
He stared at what was left.
Then slowly… his hands fell.
"…I taught you this," he whispered—to no one, and to Emma at the same time.
He turned away, shoulders heavy.
And far away, without knowing why—
Emma's fists clenched.
Her body remembered something her mind never learned.
That was where it came from.
----
Emma was frozen.
For a split second, the world felt hollow—like all sound had been pulled away.
Diana noticed immediately.
"Emma? What's wrong?"
Emma didn't look at her. Her eyes were locked forward, pupils tight, jaw clenched.
"Let's go."
That was all she said.
No explanation. No emotion.
Diana blinked, confused—but she followed. She always did.
Behind them, Ethan was still there.
Bent slightly forward.
Breathing hard.
Blood on his hands.
Chest rising and falling like he'd just clawed his way out of hell.
Vencor lay still.
Too still.
Ethan wiped blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. His instincts screamed.
Something was wrong.
And then—
WHAM.
Metal shrieked.
Vencor's body twitched, then jerked upright, damaged servos whining violently. One eye flickered back on—dim, unstable, but alive.
He turned.
And rushed Ethan.
Fast.
Too fast.
Ethan's eyes widened just a fraction. He could counter it—he knew that. His body was already shifting, weight rolling to the side, arm preparing to—
Too late.
A blur slammed into Vencor from the side.
Not calculated.
Not controlled.
Ferocious.
Emma.
She didn't hesitate. She didn't think. She didn't listen.
She jumped him.
Her shoulder smashed into Vencor's torso, sending both of them crashing into the ground. She mounted instantly, fists coming down like hammers—again, again, again—each strike cracking metal, denting synthetic bone, spraying oil and blood into the dirt.
"EMMA, NO!" Ethan shouted, voice raw.
But she couldn't hear him.
She was already gone.
Vencor roared—half human, half machine—and tried to throw her off.
That's when—
"GET OFF HER!"
Diana screamed.
And jumped in.
She tackled Vencor's arm, wrapping both of hers around it, muscles screaming as she pulled with everything she had. She slammed her knee down on the joint again and again, teeth clenched, eyes wild.
"DON'T TOUCH HER!"
The three of them collided in pure chaos.
Emma headbutted Vencor—once, twice—then grabbed his face and smashed it into the ground. Dirt flew. Metal cracked. Vencor howled.
Diana drove her elbow into his neck joint, over and over, screaming with every hit.
Ethan rushed forward.
"STOP—BOTH OF YOU—EMMA!"
Emma didn't stop.
Her face—
There was no smile.
There was no rage either.
Just nothing.
Cold. Focused. Empty.
She wrapped her legs around Vencor's torso and twisted, dislocating something that shouldn't have been able to break. Then she grabbed his head with both hands and slammed it sideways with brutal force.
CRACK.
Vencor spasmed violently.
Ethan finally reached them and grabbed Emma's arm mid-swing.
"ENOUGH!"
Emma turned to him instantly.
Eyes sharp.
Breathing steady.
Blood splattered across her cheek.
Ethan thought she might hit him.
Diana froze too, panting, hands shaking.
Then Emma blinked.
Once.
Her shoulders dropped.
Her fists loosened.
Vencor's body went limp beneath them—lights flickering, systems failing, voice glitching as it faded into broken static.
"…why…?"
Silence.
Emma slowly stood.
Diana followed, unsteady but alive.
Ethan stared at his daughter.
Not angry.
Not shouting.
Just… afraid.
"Emma," he said quietly, "you didn't have to do that."
Emma looked down at her hands.
They were shaking now.
"I know," she said
Ethan silently gazed Emma.
The silence shattered.
Vencor's body—broken, flickering, half-dead—moved.
No warning.
No sound.
Just impact.
His fist crashed into Emma's side with impossible force.
The air exploded from her lungs.
Her body lifted off the ground like she weighed nothing—then slammed down, unmoving.
"EMMA—!"
Diana screamed.
Emma didn't answer.
She didn't even breathe.
Her eyes were half-open, unfocused.
Unconscious.
For one frozen second, the world stopped.
Then Diana lunged.
"YOU—!"
She didn't get to finish.
Vencor turned and struck her just as brutally.
A single hit.
Diana's body flew back, rolling hard across the dirt before going still, groaning faintly—alive, but broken, unable to rise.
Ethan saw everything.
Every second.
Every hit.
Something inside him snapped.
"No."
His voice was low. Too calm.
Vencor turned to him.
And hit him too.
The same strike.
The kind that dropped Emma.
The kind that crushed Diana.
Ethan staggered back—
—but he didn't fall.
Another hit came.
Then another.
Bone cracked. Blood spilled.
Ethan's vision blurred.
Still—he stood.
Breathing heavy.
Eyes dark.
Vencor paused.
Ethan, Is different.
Ethan slowly straightened, wiping blood from his mouth.
And when he spoke—
There was no humanity left in his voice.
"Not my daughter."
He stepped forward.
Vencor swung again—
Ethan caught him.
Hands like iron clamped onto Vencor's torso.
"Not," Ethan said, voice shaking with pure fury, "my family."
And then—
He unleashed hell.
His fist drove into the back of Vencor's neck.
Again.
Again.
Again.
No pauses.
No mercy.
Each punch landed with sickening force, metal and bone collapsing inward, sparks and oil spraying as Vencor's body convulsed violently.
Ethan roared—not in rage, but in pain, grief, and absolute refusal.
With one final heave, he threw Vencor to the ground so hard the earth cracked beneath him.
The monster twitched.
Still moving.
Ethan turned.
Spotted it.
A massive rock—jagged, heavy, bigger than it should've been possible to lift.
He grabbed it.
Veins bulging. Muscles screaming.
And threw it down.
The rock crashed onto Vencor's body with a deafening BOOM.
Once.
Twice.
The third time—
Everything stopped.
No movement.
No sound.
No flicker.
Just silence.
Ethan stood there, chest heaving, hands shaking.
Then—
He turned.
Saw Emma.
Saw Diana.
And the fury drained from his face, replaced by something far worse.
Worry
He ran to Emma first, dropping to his knees, checking her pulse with trembling fingers.
"She's alive," he whispered, almost to himself. "She's alive…"
Then Diana—breathing, bruised, but conscious enough to whimper.
Ethan closed his eyes.
For one second.
Just one.
Ethan then turned slowly.
His eyes locked onto the figure frozen a few steps away.
Vex.
tension.
Ethan walked toward him, footsteps heavy, deliberate. Every step carried the weight of everything that had been lost.
"You really don't remember me?" Ethan said quietly.
Vex's jaw tightened.
Those words hit something buried deep.
"…Ethan, fucking elarat." Vex muttered.
So he did remember.
Ethan stopped in front of him. Close enough that Vex could see the blood on his hands—on his sleeves—on his face.
"I know your past," Ethan said. "I know why you broke. I know who you lost. And I know who you used to be."
Vex looked away, teeth clenched.
"I should kill you," Ethan continued. "For everything you did. For what you turned people into. For what you almost did to my family."
Silence.
Then Ethan's voice dropped—cold, final.
"But I won't."
Vex snapped his head up.
"I'll let you live, just like ever" Ethan said. "But this ends now. Don't build another machine. Don't touch another corpse. Don't bring more monsters into this world."
His eyes hardened.
"If you do… I won't hesitate next time."
For a long moment, Vex said nothing.
Then he took a step back.
Another.
"…You haven't changed," Vex said quietly. "Still choosing mercy where it doesn't belong."
Ethan didn't answer.
Vex turned—and left.
No theatrics.
No threats.
Just gone.
The moment he disappeared, Ethan's strength finally wavered.
He turned back immediately.
Emma.
She lay still, pale, bruised, hair tangled across her face.
Ethan dropped to his knees and gently slid an arm beneath her back, another beneath her legs.
When he lifted her—
It was different.
Careful. Protective. Like she was something precious, fragile, irreplaceable.
He adjusted her head against his chest instinctively, shielding her from the cold, his hand resting over her heart.
"My daughter…" he murmured.
Then he looked to Diana.
Bruised. Breathing. Conscious, but barely.
He lifted her too—but respectfully. Steady hands, controlled strength, making sure not to hurt her further.
No softness—but no indifference either.
"You fought bravely," he said to her. "Rest now."
With Emma held close—cradled with unmistakable love—and Diana supported securely at his side, Ethan stood.
Bloodied. Exhausted. Unbroken.
And he walked away from the battlefield—
A father first.
A protector always.
Chapter end