Chapter 19: Beauty with a Scar

  The air in the room was thick with the scent of antiseptic.

  Seonho sat on the edge of his bed, shirtless, gingerly dabbing a wet cloth over the dark purple bruises Pierce had left across his ribs.

  A sharp, single knock hit the door. Silence. Then, a muffled voice from the hallway: "Oh, right. Personality."

  Suddenly, a second knock followed, but this time it was a playful, rhythmic melody tapped against the wood. Seonho chuckled. It was fascinating to see how she’d grown—from a girl who didn't know what a burger was to someone riffing on doorframes.

  "It’s open, come in."

  The door burst open. "I heard what happened! Pierce got you haaaaarrrr—" Leeseo’s voice died in her throat. Her eyes locked onto Seonho’s bare chest, tracking the lines of muscle and the map of scars she’d never seen up close. She froze, her brain seemingly short-circuiting as she stared like she was witnessing a majestic waterfall for the very first time.

  "Yeah, well," Seonho grunted, oblivious to her internal meltdown. "How come word goes out so fast? It’s not the first time I’ve been bodied."

  Haruka’s head peeked around the doorframe for a split second. "It was by an old man," she deadpanned, then vanished.

  "I hate you too!" Seonho yelled after her. "Ahh..." He groaned, his body stiffening as the shout pulled at his side.

  Leeseo was still standing there, her eyes doing a slow, puzzled puzzle-piece assembly of his torso. "Are you..." she managed, her voice an octave higher than usual. "Going to be okay?"

  "Yeah. I mean, still a processed soldier. We heal faster than normal humans, remember? Recovery? Should be a piece of cake."

  Leeseo let out a long, warm, shaky breath as she sat on the edge of the bed beside him—careful to keep a few inches of "safety" between them. "Yeah... cake."

  "Leeseo? Are you okay?"

  She didn't answer. Instead, she rubbed her face with both hands. As her fingers slid down, her eyes glowed a sudden, sharp Telekinetic Blue. A fresh shirt from across the room began to levitate, drifting toward Seonho. Leeseo pointedly looked at the opposite wall.

  "Oh, thanks." Seonho pulled the shirt on.

  Only then did she look back, exhaling a deep, stabilizing breath. "Maybe we should... go on missions together more often."

  Seonho laughed as he adjusted his collar. "What? Isn't that a conflict of interest?"

  "Huh?" Leeseo blinked, her face reddening. "There’s nothing between us for it to be one."

  Seonho’s smile faltered for a second. He gave a quiet sigh. "Right. Right."

  "We’re at war, Seonho."

  He nodded. "Right. So why the team-up?"

  "We seem to be... a lot more reckless without each other," she said, looking at her lap. "And... well, when I’m worried about you, and you’re also watching over me... we’re kinda busy. Busy enough to be reckless." She looked up and gave him a soft, rare smile.

  Seonho nodded, the logic hitting home. "You know what? That makes a lot of sense. I’ll ask Rin."

  Leeseo sighed. "I already did. She said she doesn't care."

  "Of course she doesn't," Seonho chuckled.

  Leeseo’s expression softened, her voice dropping to something much more intimate. "Seonho. I’m not gonna ask you to be more careful. You probably hear that everyday. But uhm, curses can fail sometimes, you know? And there are a lot of people who care about you. A lot."

  "Like who?" he smirked teasingly, leaning in just a bit. "San?"

  Leeseo didn't flinch. She grinned and reached out, covering his hand with hers. "Like Leeseo."

  Seonho’s face turned a shade of crimson that looked like he was about to suffer a heatstroke. He looked like he might actually pass out on the spot.

  "Okay!" Leeseo stood up abruptly, her "mission" accomplished. "Rin isn't our only general. I already asked her. Now you have to ask San."

  This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

  She turned and bolted for the door, leaving Seonho sitting in the silence. He wore a goofy, stunned smile for a few seconds before the gravity of her words hit him. His face went dead serious.

  "Wait... why do I get to ask San?!"

  ***

  Deep within the wasteland, tucked away from the prying eyes of Zeal drones, lay a shelter that felt more like a tomb than a home. The air was thick with the scent of damp stone and copper.

  A pale, blonde woman stepped through the ruins. Her movements were heavy, accompanied by the rhythmic, mournful dragging of chains that had bound her for years. She entered the inner chamber to find a figure huddled under a scarlet hood and a thick blanket.

  "The God who killed the Councils," the woman whispered, kneeling with practiced grace. "I have answered your summons."

  "People have to stop calling me that," Wonjung’s voice rasped from beneath the hood. "Do Gods bleed?"

  The woman sighed, rising slowly. She reached toward the hood, her fingers hovering. "May I?"

  Wonjung gave a curt nod.

  As the hood fell back, Wonjung’s porcelain skin was revealed, marred by the jagged, shimmering cut across her left cheek. The Chaos energy had left the edges of the wound raw, weeping slow drops of crimson. The woman took a damp towel from a bowl of water and began to clean the injury with a gentle touch.

  "hmmm..." Wonjung grunted, her hand instinctively gripping the woman’s hip as a flash of pain flared.

  The woman let out a soft moan of surprise. "Are you okay?"

  "What’s your name?" Wonjung asked, her eyes searching the woman’s face.

  "It’s Jimin," she replied. "You freed me from Xin. I will aid you... in tracking him. But three Pillars of Demons lock the gates to his realm. We must destroy them to open the pathway where he resides."

  "He will kill you," Wonjung stated flatly.

  "I am fine with that," Jimin said, her voice steady. "Better than being locked away for eternity. It’s time we fight back against the demon."

  ***

  Miles away, the Resistance had found the heart of Zeal’s military production. Rin and Leeseo stood at the perimeter, the air humming with anticipation.

  "Come on, Leeseo," Rin signaled.

  Leeseo didn't hesitate. She threw her hands forward, unleashing a massive telekinetic wave. The impact was thunderous. The soldiers guarding the gate were swept off their feet like autumn leaves, their ribs snapping as they slammed into the reinforced walls.

  "Good lord, Leeseo," Rin muttered, impressed and slightly unsettled.

  Leeseo’s blue eyes were cold, glowing with a fierce intensity. Six advanced guards emerged from the smoke, brandishing high-output energy weapons.

  Rin moved first. Her eyes pulsed blue, her precognition turning the battlefield into a slow-motion dance. She parried every strike with her bo staff, spinning through the guards’ ranks and neutralizing three of them with surgical precision.

  Nearby, Leeseo was locked in a desperate dance with the other three. She wasn't an artist like Gaeul; she was a fighter. Her tonfas blurred as she blocked and swung, but the guards were seasoned. A blade caught her arm, drawing a line of red.

  "Leeseo!" Rin cried, sprinting toward her.

  "I’m fine!" Leeseo roared.

  In a fit of rage, she seized two guards with her mind, hoisting them into the air. With a violent gesture, she slammed them into each other with enough force to kill them instantly before throwing their bodies aside.

  The last soldier lunged. Leeseo caught him mid-air, her telekinetic grip tightening around his throat. Rin watched in horror as Leeseo squeezed, her face contorted, until the man went limp.

  Leeseo dropped him, her chest heaving. She looked at her hands, then at Rin, her eyes filling with tears. "Rin... I..."

  Before she could finish, a Zeal soldier emerged from a hidden alcove, aiming a heavy shoulder-cannon. Rin didn't blink. She pounced on him before he could fire, pinning him to the ground.

  Leeseo watched, frozen. Rin rained blows down on the man’s face—one, two, three—long after he was unconscious. The sound of flesh hitting stone echoed through the armory. It was a flashback to the brutal Rin from the training room, the one who didn't know how to stop.

  Finally, Rin stood up, panting, her knuckles bruised. "You see, Leeseo? We’re not monsters. We can’t be reckless like them. That’s what Gaeul taught me."

  Leeseo wiped a tear away, nodding.

  "However..." Rin added, her voice softening, "there are times we get angry. We have to let loose sometimes."

  Suddenly, the doors at the end of the hall burst open. A flood of soldiers poured in, guns raised. They opened fire, but Leeseo was ready. She held up a hand, a shimmering blue barrier catching the bullets in mid-air.

  Zip.

  Seonho arrived like a lightning strike. Blink and stab. Blink and stab. He was a shadow moving through the ranks, leaving only silence in his wake. As the numbers fell, Rin walked calmly through the chaos toward the main office.

  The second-to-last guard fell to Seonho's blade. The final soldier scrambled to reload, but a sudden thwack to the face sent him spiraling.

  They stepped into the control room to find two of Eunchae’s clones sitting on the floor. They were ignoring the computers, instead watching two beyblades spin furiously in a makeshift arena on the floor. Two guards lay dead behind them.

  "What is this?" Rin asked, deadpan.

  "Oh, uhm. They had beyblades!" the clones chirped in unison.

  Seonho chuckled, leaning against the doorframe. "She’s amazing, not gonna lie."

  He zipped into the inner office where the real Eunchae was frantically typing. "What you got, kid?"

  "I got it!" Eunchae pulled a flash drive and tossed it to him. "More locations for their hideouts. And hey, don’t call me kid. I’m only two years younger than you!"

  ***

  Back at the Resistance camp in the woods, San stood tall, the weight of the day’s victory finally setting in.

  The brush rustled as Kanghyuk and Haruka finally emerged from their mission. The three veterans shared a tight, silent hug.

  "Where’s Rahee?" San asked, looking past them.

  "Occupied," Haruka replied with a small, knowing smirk.

  Kanghyuk clapped San on the shoulder. "Ya know, we had a lot of missions lately where I thought about what face you’d be making if you were there."

  San smiled back. "So had I, buddy."

  Haruka’s smile faded as she looked at the camp of young survivors. "So... everyone is really dead? All the other Elites?"

  San looked at the fire crackling in the center of the camp. "Not everyone. We have each other."

  ***

  While the Resistance celebrated their small victories, Dr. Pierce was deep within his private lab, surrounded by the hum of cooling fans and the smell of sterile metal. He wasn't praying this time. He was studying.

  In the center of the room, a young Flux trainee named Yunseok was lashed to a metal chair. He was unrecognizable, his face a map of bruises and dried blood. He wept silently, his spirit long since broken by hours of "interrogations."

  "For so long, we tried our hardest to understand how Aion works," Pierce said, his voice calm, almost professorial. He paced around the boy, holding a digital tablet. "The living cells flowing in motion within your blood... the Flux."

  Yunseok let out a jagged sob.

  Pierce stopped, looking at a screen displaying a microscopic view of a red-tinted cell. "Wonjung discovered a shortcut. She uses a power that kills the cells, turning them red. A necro-state of energy."

  He leaned in close to Yunseok’s face, his blue eyes cold and analytical. "And then, with those gold daggers—the Covenant’s artifacts—she transfers those dead cells into her own body. She reignites them, allowing her to host multiple gifts. It’s not magic, even if it looks like it. It’s a biological theft."

  "Please..." Yunseok whispered, his voice cracking. "Just kill me."

  "I have already mastered how to cancel it with my anti-bound tech," Pierce continued, ignoring the plea. "I can punish the user with my discs. But what if... I could copy it?"

  Pierce reached for a table and pulled on a heavy, sleek mechanical gauntlet. It hummed as it locked onto his right arm, the joints hissing with hydraulic pressure. Blue liquid Aion pulsed through translucent tubes along the forearm.

  "You have a son, right?" Yunseok gasped, trying to find a shred of humanity in the doctor. "I still have my father."

  Pierce paused, his gaze softening for a fraction of a second before hardening into steel. "Yes. We both have family. But we are on opposing sides of a very small world, Yunseok. Wonjung will kill your kind long before she reaches mine. That's the goal."

  Yunseok only cried, his head hanging low.

  "Yunseok," Pierce said, raising the gauntlet. "You have the power of the wind."

  Pierce tightened his fist. The gauntlet roared, the blue tubes turning a violent, swirling white. With a sharp thrust of his palm, a localized hurricane erupted from the machine.

  The force was cataclysmic. Yunseok was launched backward, the chair splintering into toothpicks as he slammed into the reinforced concrete wall. The sound of snapping bones echoed in the small room.

  Pierce watched the boy’s limp body fall to the floor. He opened his hand, watching the faint wisps of white air still dancing around his mechanical fingers.

  "Now," Pierce whispered. "so have I."

  Mystic.