Location: Jerkin Base - Grand Induction Hall
Time: Present Day - Graduation Ceremony
---
The hall had descended into chaos. Blood pooled on the marble floor, its crimson sheen reflecting the chandeliers' light. The body of the man Jericho had killed lay crumpled, his skull split open like a shattered melon, fragments of bone scattered like discarded puzzle pieces. The crowd had recoiled—some in horror, some in disbelief, and a few in barely concealed amusement.
Jericho stood over the corpse, his chest heaving, his eyes blazing with cold fury. His hands were still clenched, his knuckles white, his body trembling with barely contained rage.
Leo stood at the edge of the dais, his expression one of quiet amusement—a small, knowing smile that he couldn't quite hide.
Jericho's eyes locked onto him. His voice cracked with fury.
"You! I'm guessing this is one of your jokes!"
Leo's hands rose in a placating gesture. His voice carried a note of theatrical innocence.
"Brother, I have no idea what you're talking about. I've been standing here the entire time. You saw me. Everyone saw me."
His internal voice carried a note of genuine exasperation.
Really, I'm not behind this. Seriously. This Elijah fellow is a real menace if he can break my always-confident brother like this.
Lilia stepped forward, her face contorted with rage. Her voice carried a note of venomous accusation.
"Oh, please! Stop the pretense! Only an orphaned trash like yourself is responsible for this!"
The words hung in the air like a slap. The crowd's murmurs shifted—some gasped, others whispered.
Irina's voice cut through the silence, sharp and offended. "Hey, that's really harsh."
Jax, Ilya, and Ivan exchanged glances—their expressions a mixture of anger and pain. They were all adopted orphans. They had grown up together. And Lilia's words had struck a nerve.
Jax's voice carried a note of cold fury. "What a contemptible woman."
Jericho's head snapped toward her. His eyes blazed with cold menace.
Jax didn't flinch. Her expression was fearless—almost defiant. She raised her hands in a gesture that was unmistakable.
Dare you. I'll be here for her.
Jericho's jaw tightened. His fists clenched.
Leo watched the exchange, his internal voice carrying a note of quiet resignation.
Well, since Elijah literally shoved me into this mess... I need to go with the flow.
He stepped forward, his expression shifting to one of theatrical hurt. His body language was exaggerated—a dramatic performance of wounded innocence. His voice carried a note of trembling emotion.
"Mother... how can you say that to me? I've always treated you like my birth mother. Even though you beat me. Even though you made me go without food for days and nights. I still loved you. Why can't you, for once, be kind to me?"
The crowd's whispers grew louder.
"Just embarrassing."
"Someone's recording this."
Lilia noticed. Her expression shifted to one of genuine panic. Her voice cracked with fury.
"You there! Who gave you permission to film?!"
Jericho's gaze snapped toward the person holding the phone. His eyes blazed with cold menace.
The crowd's heckles grew louder—distant voices from the far corners of the hall.
"Seriously, he's trying to intimidate and silence everyone. One of us."
"Appears so. The always all-wise and praiseworthy Jerkins are no different from hooligans. How embarrassing. Just how were they selected to run this base in the first place?"
"Probably the old man sold that bummy lady to acquire the spot."
Lilia heard. Her face contorted with rage. Her body trembled. Her eyes rolled back.
She fainted.
Jericho caught her, his expression shifting from fury to genuine concern. He lowered her to the ground, his hands checking her pulse, her breathing.
Leo stepped forward, his voice carrying a note of theatrical concern.
"Big brother, don't worry. Mother will be fine."
Jericho's head snapped toward him. His voice cracked with rage.
"Shut it!"
The crowd's whispers grew louder—mocking, ridiculing.
Seraphina stepped forward, her expression one of cold disappointment. Her voice carried a note of sharp authority.
"Haven't you and your mother embarrassed the family far enough, kid? Aren't you satisfied enough?"
Jericho's expression shifted to one of desperate frustration. His voice cracked with emotion.
"It's all Leo's fault! He's behind this! He's—"
Another whisper. "Is he some kid or what?"
Another. "Told you guys. He really is a manbaby."
Someone pulled at their hair, their expression one of exasperated rage. "What's up with him? Why is he behaving like a moody woman in her period?"
Another giggle. "Probably wears pads or something."
Laughter rippled through the crowd—Ivan, Irina, Jax, and Jenna joining in.
---
Something shifted within Jericho.
The air around him began to distort—rippling like heat rising from scorched earth. His body trembled, his muscles coiling, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. A faint light began to pulse around him—chaotic, unstable, shifting between shades of crimson, amber, and something darker. The ground beneath his feet cracked, small fissures spiderwebbing outward.
The crowd's confusion was immediate.
"He's frying his chip! His core is going to overload!"
"Probably end up dumb!"
Valerik watched from the edge of the hall, his internal voice carrying a note of cold disdain.
How idiotic are these people? he thought. Don't tell me the Jerkin family are just idiots that the Mysterium clan selected. Clearly, this boy is uneducated and suffering from some deviation. Well, not my business if something happens to him or them.
His gaze shifted to Seraphina—and he noticed something. Her expression was one of rough understanding—as if she knew exactly what was happening to Jericho. And she had stopped caring.
Leo's internal voice carried a note of genuine concern.
If this continues, he might just end up blowing his big brother to bits. And I don't want to face the fury of my old man when he hears about this. Well... hope Elijah will protect me, won't he?
He paused.
Doubt it.
The crowd's murmurs continued.
"Jericho is so full of himself. Thinking he's tougher than everyone here just because he's senior."
"What do you expect from someone raised by a lousy woman?"
"Guys, do you think Leo can take him?"
"Of course. You saw his performance against those freaks at the Crucible Grounds. Obviously, he's up to it."
"Unfortunately, that big-headed brother of his will chicken out."
---
Jericho's head snapped toward the crowd. His voice cracked with rage.
"Who said that?!"
The crowd fell silent. Then, a voice—quiet but unmistakable.
"I did."
Jericho's eyes blazed. He pointed at Leo, his voice carrying a note of cold challenge.
"You! I challenge you! Right here, right now!"
Leo's expression shifted to one of caught-off-guard surprise. He stared at Seraphina—his eyes pleading.
Seraphina's expression was one of cold exhaustion. She had seen enough. Her voice carried a note of sharp command.
"Enough. If this is what it takes to end this childish squabble... then so be it. The match will proceed."
Her voice rose, carrying across the hall.
"Make the match!"
The crowd erupted—cheers, applause, whistles. The hall became a cacophony of excitement.
Leo's expression shifted to one of quiet resignation. His voice was soft, almost polite.
"Seraphina... are you sure this is wise?"
Seraphina's expression remained cold. She nodded.
Leo sighed. He turned to Jericho, his expression one of quiet determination.
"Very well, brother. Let's settle this."
The crowd cheered. The match was set.
---
The hall had become an arena. The crowd had formed a circle, their voices a chorus of excitement and anticipation. The blood on the floor had been cleaned—but the tension remained.
Jericho stood at one end, his body trembling, his aura flickering with chaotic light.
Leo stood at the other end, his expression one of quiet calm.
Seraphina stood at the center, her voice carrying a note of cold authority.
"Begin."
The crowd roared.
And the match began.
---
How scary certain someone can be in steering things, Leo thought, his internal voice carrying a note of genuine unease.
Note to self: don't make an enemy in such a person.
He steadied his breath. His fists clenched.
Let's get this over with.