Elena hadn't stormed into the headquarters simply by chance. She had felt the spike of golden and silver energy clash from miles away - an unmistakable warning sign that the two troublemakers were at it again.
But at first, the spike of Spirit Energy on the radar had drawn her curiosity. Of course, she trusted the Silver Blade to handle it since it was within his territory, but she headed over as soon as she was free.
Now, with both Bastion and Kalen at her mercy, the Supreme was hardly the image of mercy herself.
Twin leashes of roaring flame snaked out from her palms, shackling each man by the chest and dragging them forward like misbehaving dogs. Her frame was slight compared to their hulking figures - Bastion, a towering wall of muscle, and Kalen, a sleek and sharpened blade - but not a single soul dared to laugh. To mock Elena's stature was to court a death far more terrible than fire itself.
She hauled them along with casual dominance, her voice sharp and cutting as it echoed through the corridor.
"You two - two of my most senior and trusted officers - brawling like spoiled children in front of your subordinates. Do you have any idea what kind of message that sends?"
Her flames tugged, forcing them both to stumble slightly, though neither dared protest.
Even the golden giant bowed his head. Bastion's broad shoulders slouched like a guilty student before a teacher, while Kalen, usually smug and sharp-tongued, kept his silver eyes averted, jaw tight in silent frustration. Before Elena, both of them were nothing more than boys who'd been caught playing too roughly.
"You're supposed to inspire discipline," she snapped, eyes blazing brighter with every word. "Not tear apart the very headquarters you swore to protect!"
Most of her lecture was directed at Bastion, the undeniable instigator, but Kalen received his fair share of scolding glances. The flames around them pulsed with her irritation until, at last, she sighed and released her grip. The fiery leashes dissolved into sparks, leaving both men with the faint smell of scorched pride.
It was only once they were in private, away from the curious onlookers, that her tone shifted, softening into something more familiar. The Supreme who could smother them with flames was gone, replaced by a woman who, despite her position, clearly knew them well.
And she quickly got the rundown of everything that had happened, at least from Bastion's perspective.
"So…" She crossed her arms, giving the giant a look sharp enough to cut through his golden aura. "This all started because Kalen has your brother in custody. And instead of talking or listening, you came crashing in like a one-man war machine."
Bastion scratched at the back of his neck, his sheepish grin far too wide for a man who had nearly torn the place apart moments earlier. "Heh. Pretty much."
Elena pinched the bridge of her nose and exhaled slowly. Kalen's glare, meanwhile, could have split steel.
Despite their differences - the giant of golden muscle, the cold and calculating swordsman - the three carried themselves like people bound by years of battles, rivalry, and reluctant trust. Bastion, unfazed by Kalen's scowl, reached out with a broad hand and clapped it down on the swordsman's shoulder.
Kalen reflexively went to avoid his touch before sighing and standing still.
A warm glow spread instantly from Bastion's palm, golden light seeping into Kalen's scorched arms and knitting the burns closed. The silver-eyed captain let out a quiet breath, offering nothing more than a curt nod in acknowledgement. It had been Bastion's recklessness that had directly or indirectly caused his injuries in the first place, but healing was healing.
"Don't mention it," Bastion said with an easy grin, though his attempt at lightness only earned another eye-roll from Kalen.
The three of them had reached somewhat of a mutual understanding, and all curiosity and questions led them to the same thing: Orion.
As such, with Elena leading the way, they began their march over to him. Orion was utterly oblivious to the chaos that had just been unleashed in his name, and equally unaware of the storm about to walk into his cell.
But he hadn't just been sitting idly...
-
The holding cell wasn't anything like a jail. No bars. No cot. No toilet in the corner. Just a massive cube of reinforced metal, its walls humming faintly as though threaded with an invisible current, buzzing like a caged storm.
It didn't seem to have any cameras, but even if it did, Orion didn't care very much.
He sat cross-legged on the ground, back pressed against the cool wall. The adrenaline had worn off. His breathing had slowed. And for the first time since that damned pizza delivery, he had a moment to think.
Strangely enough… he wasn't complaining.
For the first time in his life, things actually felt meaningful. Exhilarating, even. School had always been pointless to him - assignments done by AI, exams scraped through by skimming notes the night before. He didn't have ambitions of becoming a doctor or chasing some high-paying career. He was content to coast, spend his allowance, and bury himself in webnovels.
And his brothers, distant as they were, had always made sure he never needed to worry about money. The house was stable. Life was simple. At least… before a giant demon smashed through the ceiling.
But sitting here, in this humming metal cell, Orion couldn't shake the feeling that he'd been waiting for this moment his entire life.
And it just so happened to fall on his eighteenth birthday.
'Coincidence? I highly doubt it.'
Still, he also doubted this was what normally happened to potential exorcists on their birthdays. This wasn't random, but it wasn't ordinary either.
The difference, he realised, was obvious.
The Exorcist System.
It had chosen him. Whether it had been waiting for him to come of age or just randomly selected him that night, he couldn't confirm. But everything that had happened since - the chaos, the fights - had all been a chain reaction from that single moment.
"…But couldn't I have got the system in another way?" Orion groaned, dragging a hand down his face as the memory returned - the floating eyeball that had embedded itself into his skull.
Getting to his feet made his entire body scream in protest. Without the adrenaline numbing him, the fatigue and pain hit harder. His ribs still ached from Mason and his gang. His arms bore shallow cuts from skirmishes with demons. His chest stung with raw patches of acid burns.
At least nothing was fatal. The uniformed people who'd dragged him here had assured him he'd be fine. No infections. No curses, whatever that meant. But the pain was still there, heavy and stubborn.
He caught his reflection in the faint sheen of the metal wall.
And frowned.
No changes. No glowing aura. No sudden six-pack. None of the tropes. Usually, when a guy got a system, they came out taller, stronger, sharper. A protagonist's glow-up. But him? He just looked worse. Haggard. Beaten down. Exhausted.
His eyes, at least, were still the same dark shade he'd always had - until a faint red flash blinked across his left one.
Orion recoiled instantly, cursing under his breath.
"Shit. So that eyeball really is in my head." His voice was a mix of dread and disbelief. "It's replaced my left eye… or at least it's living in there. And here I was hoping I imagined that part."
He turned away from the wall, shoving the thought aside. "Great. Now I'm scared of my own reflection. Perfect."
But he wasn't going to spiral. Not yet. There was still one thing left to confirm.
"Alright… Exorcist System." He straightened, forcing his tone to steady. "Are you there?"
Silence.
One second. Two seconds. Three.
The pit of his stomach dropped, disappointment sinking in. Maybe it had all been in his head. Maybe-
A voice echoed in his mind. Cold. Mechanical. Absolute.
{Yes, the Exorcist System is here.}
Orion's lips split into a grin. The webnovel addict's heart thumped with excitement.
"Finally…"