CHAPTER 152: PERSUASION

Keith’s fists were cracked and bleeding. The bones in his knuckles groaned with every twitch. His breathing came in short, savage bursts—his chest heaving as sweat soaked the collar of his tattered uniform. He stood across the broken stone platform, legs spread wide, fists raised in a battered boxer’s stance. His eye, nearly swollen shut, glared at Elius with a mix of pain, resolve... and deep, unspoken resentment.

Elius stood silently, watching him. The wind blew strands of his hair across his face, but he didn’t flinch. His breath was steady, his robes fluttering gently. His swords hovered in a slow orbit behind his back, their points gleaming with the blood of those already defeated.

"Keith," he said at last, his voice soft but unyielding. "This is over. You don’t have to keep fighting."

Keith didn’t lower his fists. His lip curled into a sneer, blood spilling over his teeth. "Then why the hell... are you still standing?"

Elius didn’t answer at first. He walked forward instead, slow and measured, not raising a weapon.

"I don’t want to hurt you," Elius said. "I never wanted to fight you at all. Not like this."

Keith laughed. A hoarse, bitter sound. "Then you shouldn’t have come back."

BOOM!

Keith’s foot slammed down, propelling him forward like a rocket. His fist shot through the air like a bullet, glowing faintly with kinetic charge from his bio-muscular enhancements.

Elius moved like mist.

WHOOSH!

He leaned back, the punch grazing the tip of his nose. Before Keith could follow up, a flying sword arced in from behind.

Keith twisted, catching it mid-air with his bare hand.

CLANG!

The metal sizzled in his grip, and his fingers burned—but he held it.

Elius blinked.

Keith smirked. "I’ve learned some tricks too, brother."

Then—

BAM!

Keith twisted, tossing the sword aside and driving his elbow toward Elius’s ribs. It struck with a meaty impact, sending Elius staggering back a step.

But he recovered quickly. He brought his palm forward, trying to drive a wave of Qi at Keith’s chest.

Keith rolled under it.

SWOOSH!

A second blade screamed past Keith’s shoulder, but he sidestepped at the last second, grabbing Elius’s arm and locking it under his own.

He twisted. Elius was thrown through the air.

CRASH!

Elius landed hard against the edge of the floating slab, skidding and digging in with his heels.

He stood.

And this time... he sighed.

"Keith."

"No!" Keith shouted, already charging again. "Don’t say my name like that! Like you care! Like I’m some kid who needs your pity!"

His fists came flying.

Left. Right. Uppercut. Jab. Cross.

Each punch was wild but backed by emotion—years of betrayal, rage, neglect.

Elius parried. Blocked. Dodged. But with every strike, he saw through the cracks in Keith’s fury. Beneath the rage was sorrow. Fear. Loneliness.

"You do need help," Elius said in a breath, deflecting another blow. "And it’s not weakness to admit that."

Keith roared. "SHUT UP!"

THUD!

His punch grazed Elius’s cheek, drawing blood. Elius didn’t retaliate.

"You think turning your back on the world will make you stronger?" Elius asked, stepping aside from another wild swing. "You think becoming a villain gives you purpose? It doesn’t. You’re just burying the pain in a darker hole."

Keith faltered for a second—but only for a second.

"Don’t act like you know anything about my pain!" Keith shouted. "You are not me!"

Elius’s breath hitched. "Come on, I can heal your mother..."

Keith’s eyes shimmered with fury—and grief.

"You expect me to believe that?!" He slammed his fists together. His body shimmered with raw, unfiltered kinetic energy. "You expect me to become a hero just because you showed up?!"

"No," Elius said.

He stepped forward.

"I don’t expect anything."

He raised one hand.

"I just want to you to become a hero because I want to"

Another punch flew. Elius caught it this time, gripping Keith’s wrist.

"You still have a chance to be a hero, Keith. You don’t have to do this. You can make Mom proud without throwing away your soul."

"Proud?" Keith growled. "You think she’s proud of me now? You think any of this is pride?!"

He shoved Elius back, his voice cracking. "She’s broken. If it wasn’t for Shania’s illusions, she would’ve lost her mind after Dad abandoned her!"

Elius stood silent.

"That’s right," Keith said, his voice shaking. "You didn’t know. You weren’t there. You weren’t there when Radiant Man slammed the door on us. When he told Mom she was nothing but a phase. When he said I was just a mistake."

Elius felt something ache in his chest.

Keith kept talking. The words came faster now, like a dam breaking.

"She tried to smile for days. Smiled through the tears. Laughed through the silence. And every day... every single day... she stared at the phone, hoping it would ring. Hoping someone—anyone—from the hero world would say she mattered."

Elius stepped forward again.

"I’m sorry."

Keith punched again. Slower. Weak.

Elius caught it.

"Stop it."

Another punch. Caught.

"Stop it, Keith."

Another.

And finally—Keith just stood there.

Panting.

Bleeding.

Shaking.

Elius held his fist in midair.

They stared at each other.

And then... Elius released him.

"You’re not a mistake," Elius said. "You’re my brother. And you don’t have to carry this hate anymore."

Keith opened his mouth.

He wanted to scream. To punch again. To keep fighting. Because stopping meant facing the pain. And that hurt more than anything.

But he didn’t move.

He just looked away.

Silence fell between them.

Then—

CRACK.

A sound. From behind.

Elius’s eyes snapped open. He turned.

His gaze drifted toward the three sand tombs.

Something was wrong.

The ground was trembling beneath them—not from his own power, but something else.

He narrowed his eyes.

"...No."

The sand began to bulge. Shift. Crack.

Like something inside was pushing back.

No—it wasn’t one of them.

It was all three.

Zhark.

Fraven.

Shania.

And they were... merging? No—that wasn’t it. Their energy signatures were fluctuating violently.

Combining.

Keith turned too, seeing the distortion in the air around the tombs.

"W-What the hell...?" he whispered.

Elius’s eyes narrowed, the cold returning to his tone.

"They’re resonating... Something’s forcing their powers to converge."

The sand cracked open.

Purple lightning erupted into the sky.

A psychic wave slammed into the floating debris.

Illusions poured out like toxic fog.

Elius took a single step forward and said under his breath—

"...This isn’t over."