CHAPTER 231: FRIEND OR FOE?

The convoy, moving slow but steady under the watch of countless citizens and hovering media drones, finally reached Shelter City 8’s player headquarters.

There, the city’s Defense Minister was waiting to receive them. But Henry, citing the urgency of the situation—and knowing Adyr had already attracted far more attention than necessary—kept the interaction short. After a few polite exchanges with local graduates and minor officials, he ended the brief formalities. Without wasting more time, he ordered their immediate return to Shelter City 9 by hoverjet.

Evangeline Ravencourt parted ways with the group there, arranging a future rendezvous point with them in Pacthold.

Just as Adyr moved toward the waiting hoverjet, Evangeline stepped closer through the engine noise, her voice calm yet clear as it cut through the rising hum.

"Adyr."

He stopped, glancing at her.

"Half the world sees you as a threat now," she said quietly, her crimson eyes steady, serious. "The other half thinks you’re their savior."

A pause stretched between them as the engines whined louder.

"I don’t see either," she continued softly. "To me... you’re just necessary."

She let the words settle, then nodded slightly. "Thank you. For today. For helping my city. I won’t forget it."

Without waiting for a reply, she took a step back, her gaze lingering on him as he boarded the hoverjet with the others. The rooftop winds swallowed the rest.

She was one of the countless players who had managed to stay alive—now the only one left in Shelter City 8. And she understood better than most: at the top, there was no black or white. Only calculation and resolution.

That’s why, to her, Adyr’s choices didn’t matter. Only his results did. And those results were more than enough for Evangeline to see him not as an enemy, but as an ally.

As the hoverjet lifted off and disappeared into the darkness of the night, Evangeline slowly turned to face the Defense Minister waiting behind her.

"Mr. York Abraham," she said calmly, yet her tone carried weight. "I think there’s something we need to discuss."

Her gaze sharpened in an instant, and the cold authority in her presence settled heavy over the rooftop, pressing down on the Defense Minister and the STF personnel standing nearby. The rooftop felt quieter under it, the night wind unable to cut through her dominance.

Tonight’s situation had been far too unusual.

All first-generation mutants... subdued. Not just controlled, but reduced to mindless slaves under the combined influence of two Sparks. Even Painter and Manipulator—the two most wanted terrorists in the region—had fallen into that same state.

Coincidence? No. Evangeline wasn’t naive enough to believe that.

And whether the Defense Minister admitted it or not, she was certain he knew something. Maybe not the whole picture—but enough.

She had no intention of leaving without those missing details.

—

While Evangeline questioned her city’s Defense Minister back in Shelter City 8, inside the hoverjet cutting through the night skies, Adyr was quietly dissecting a different target—Henry Bates.

"So, Mr. Bates..." His voice was quiet and steady. "Are you ready to tell me why you came all the way to receive us personally?"

Henry swallowed, feeling something tighten around his throat, a cold weight settling in his chest. Adyr’s gaze—too calm, too emotionless—pierced straight through him. There was no aura being used. No active pressure, no Malice or Presence. And yet, every person in that cabin felt it.

It wasn’t something Adyr projected. It was simply what he was.

A predator.

A caged beast that didn’t need to snarl to remind everyone what it was.

"You wanted to see something with your own eyes," Adyr continued, his voice calm and detached. Each word moved through the silence of the cabin, slow and disturbingly exact. "You wanted to be part of something... larger."

The silence that followed felt heavier than steel. Adyr’s pale gaze remained fixed on Henry, unblinking.

"What is it?"

He knew Henry too well. Knew the man’s habits, his compulsions, the cracks in his restraint. Whatever reason he had given earlier—checking on Victor, the thrill of watching a battle—Adyr no longer believed any of it. This wasn’t casual curiosity. Henry Bates was a man drawn to power plays, not spectacles.

For a few seconds, Henry said nothing. His eyes twitched shut, trying to escape the weight of that gaze.

But escape wasn’t possible here.

Finally, his voice came out, thin and strained.

"I spoke with the Twelve City Managers before I decided to come."

Adyr’s expression didn’t change, but there was a faint nod. He’d expected that. He let Henry continue.

Rhys and the others sat frozen, saying nothing, realizing they were listening to something they were never meant to hear. No one in that cabin felt they had the right to interrupt.

"When people first started showing symptoms while watching the broadcast... when they began dying without warning... I told them to shut it down." Henry’s voice tightened, yet there was a grim, almost resigned look on his face. "But they refused."

Adyr’s expression remained unreadable.

"I asked why," Henry continued, shaking his head slightly. "They said it wasn’t something they could intervene in. I didn’t understand... until someone else joined the conversation."

Adyr’s eyes narrowed. "The Mad Scientist."

Henry paused when he heard the name—then gave a dry, bitter chuckle. "Yes. He said something... interesting. About you. And about this world."

At that, Rhys and the others leaned forward slightly. Especially Adyr’s reaction showed genuine curiosity.

He knew this was important.

Too many puzzle pieces were scattered across his mind, and he had yet to see the full picture. But every instinct told him that man—the so-called Mad Scientist—was at the center of it.

Not just his own reincarnation into this world. Not just the question he still couldn’t answer: whether this was a parallel Earth, a different timeline, or something else entirely.

No. It went deeper.

He was choosing a path no one in that world had ever seen or even imagined before. Separately, players—humans—could awaken more than one path and raise multiple stats, something practitioners of that world saw not as a possibility, but as heresy—an insult to the Gods who had created those paths.

The dead languages he’d discovered in his previous life—Latin and Old Chinese—were spoken fluently in a world where the human race didn’t exist.

Most strikingly, his awakening of bloodline talents—abilities, as far as he understood, only elder races could possess—all pointed to something far beyond simple chance.

Everything was connected—each piece linked by something thin and unseen. And for some reason, Adyr found himself at the center of it all.

A man who had spent his entire life seeking control—and despising the idea of being controlled—he had endured this uncertainty longer than he ever should have, holding back with a patience few could imagine. But now, the time for answers had come.

And as far as he could see, there was only one person capable of giving them.

The Mad Scientist.

"He said the walls of the dimension we live in are cracking... and that we’re entering a new era—one only those chosen by fate will be able to see."

Henry paused, his expression tightening as his voice dropped into something heavier. More uncertain.

"And you... You’re someone who, one day, might try to judge that fate."

***

A/N: End of Volume II – The Cracking