CHAPTER 172: CONTROLLED

Elius had barely made it a dozen steps down the corridor before the sound of his phone broke the quiet that had settled around him. The device vibrated in his coat pocket like a sudden pulse of energy. He slipped it out, glancing at the ID. Unknown number. But the moment he answered and brought the receiver to his ear, the voice on the other end made it clear who it was.

Gravel and velvet. Aged and sharp. The same old woman from the mission building.

"Elius," she greeted, her tone formal yet heavy with scrutiny. "Are you in a place where you can talk?"

He slowed his steps, turning into an empty garden hall lined with flowering trees that hummed with faint, artificial birdsong. Alone now, he leaned against a white pillar, phone pressed gently to his ear.

"Yes," he replied simply.

"Good," the voice said. "Because we need to talk about Keith."

At that name, Elius’ expression barely shifted, but deep within, something coiled—a quiet storm waiting.

"You took him from the Supervillain Registry building without clearance. You rewrote his record with a hero probability rating of 46%. You requested reclassification. And now there are reports—unconfirmed—of him using Esper-level strength to destroy rogue drones along the east district last night. On top of that, you labeled him a temporary ward under your name. Your file was clean, but this... this is turning into a problem."

Elius waited. The woman was building up to something.

"We’ve received surveillance footage," she continued. "Nothing definitive, just aftermaths. Collapsed walls. Systems fried. Drones melted into ash. There’s a group who believes Keith is still a villain—that he’s just pretending. Some want to label him unstable. Possibly rabid. They’re demanding another evaluation."

He listened to her voice like a river passing over stones—measured, patient, but grinding slowly toward its destination.

"What exactly is Keith now, Elius?" she asked. "Because some of your reports say he’s changed. We want to believe that. But you... you haven’t been detailed. What did he do as a villain? What crimes were committed under his hands?"

Elius exhaled quietly, and for a few seconds, he said nothing.

Then, with a voice as smooth as frost melting under sunlight, he replied, "I don’t remember everything bad he did."

The pause on the other end was like a held breath.

"I’m not lying," he said, his tone calm but unwavering. "I’m saying, it’s no longer relevant. Those memories—whatever happened—are drowned in a greater context."

"Elius..." the woman warned, her voice narrowing. "We need facts, not sentiments. Was he involved in any deaths? Any physical casualties?"

Elius tilted his head to the side slightly, his golden eyes unfocused as he spoke. "He was controlled. By a mind Esper. Fraven."

Silence reigned for a moment.

"You’re saying the Fraven case was responsible?"

"Yes," Elius answered. "Fraven embedded a subliminal code inside Keith’s memory web. Twisted his perception of the world. Made him believe pain was the only way forward. Made him believe everyone else was against him. There were voices, triggers, impulse loops... Keith didn’t choose the path. It was carved into his mind by someone else’s hands."

"That still doesn’t erase—"

"I’m not asking you to erase it," Elius interrupted, not unkindly. "I’m telling you that it wasn’t his own hands that carved the scar. You want to know what crimes he committed under Fraven’s influence? He destroyed three government patrol bots. He cracked a dam’s energy firewall. He broke into a B-Rank Hero Training Site and stole a serum."

"And?"

"No deaths," Elius said quietly. "No civilians harmed. No heroes engaged. Just... machines. Silence. And shadows. That’s all it was. He didn’t understand what he was doing. It was just noise inside his skull, buzzing like metal screaming in his blood."

"And now?"

"Now," Elius said, voice firm, "he’s free of that control. The circuit was shattered. I personally destroyed the Esper remnants in his consciousness. Every impulse, every mind-seed planted by Fraven—I severed them all."

"You personally destroyed them?"

"I stepped into his mind," Elius answered, calm as stone. "Entered his inner world and fought the bindings myself. What Fraven did... it wasn’t just manipulation. It was architecture. A whole labyrinth of pain and paranoia. I walked that maze. I saw what Keith saw. Felt what he felt. Heard what screamed at him in the dark."

"And?"

"And I burned it all down," he said.

The woman didn’t speak for a while. The only sound between them was faint static and the occasional chirp of an artificial bird beyond the garden’s transparent dome.

"You said he’s gone on a rampage now," she said finally. "Care to explain that?"

"It’s not a rampage," Elius corrected. "It’s echoes. Leftover trauma. Like fire twitching in the ashes. He’s still healing. And what people saw—the drones being destroyed, the power bursts—that wasn’t rage. That was reflex. Fraven left behind psychic tripwires. Keith walks through the wrong memory and it detonates."

"But he’s unstable."

"No," Elius said sharply, but without raising his voice. "He’s waking up. You don’t yell at someone for screaming in their sleep. You guide them. You calm them. You help them breathe. That’s what I’m doing."

"Even if he causes more damage?"

"I’ll stop him," Elius said without hesitation. "Before he does. Every single time. And if he ever—ever—crosses the line into true harm, I’ll be the first one to stop him. Not because I hate him, but because I respect what he could be."

The silence stretched again.

"And what if he does kill someone, Elius? What then?"

"Then it’ll be my fault," Elius replied, voice quiet and grave. "Because I didn’t catch him in time. Because I failed to pull him out of the pit. But I won’t let it reach that point."

"Elius..."

"You want to know why I’m so certain?" he said, and now, there was a glint in his eyes, faint but searing. "Because I’ve already solved it."

"Solved what?"

"All of it," he said. "Every loose end. Every vulnerability. I found the roots of the triggers and sealed them. The chaos you saw? It was a memory loop playing its last note. There won’t be another. He’s stable now. Not perfect, but steady. Like glass reforged after shattering."

"...You sound very sure of yourself."

"I’m not guessing," Elius said. "I saw it. In his soul sea. There’s no longer a storm—just ripples. Controlled. Measured. Focused. And yes... he’s quiet. Withdrawn. But that’s just him choosing not to speak too soon. He’s afraid of his own voice now. And that means he’s listening. That means he’s growing."

Another silence followed. It stretched longer than before.

When the woman finally spoke again, her voice was softer, less rigid. "You called him Keith. Not by any alias. You speak of him like he’s family."

Elius closed his eyes for a moment.

"...He is."

There was a long pause on the other end, then a faint exhale.

"One last question," she said, and now her voice held none of the formality from earlier. Just a weary sort of curiosity. "Do you... want him to become a superhero too?"

The breeze shifted around Elius, tugging gently at his coat.

And slowly, deliberately, he nodded. Though the woman couldn’t see it, his answer was sure, unwavering.

"Yes," he said, voice no louder than a heartbeat. "I do."