Max leaned back in his chair, one hand flicking popcorn into his mouth while his eyes danced across a wall of screens. The fight unfolded clearly—Ash darting around bursts of fire, blade flashing, his steps tight and sharp. Kael stayed on him, fists wrapped in flame, each swing sending waves of heat through the air.
Max's lips pulled into a crooked grin. He chewed slowly, eyes locked on the screen.
"He's getting roasted," he muttered, his tone more amused than concerned.
A soft chime broke through. One of the monitors lit up.
INCOMING CALL: DAD
Max sighed through his nose. His fingers hovered over the keyboard.
"Right on time."
He glanced back at the fight. Ash had barely twisted away from a fiery hook, coat scorched at the edge. Kael stayed on him, not slowing down.
Max tilted his head, hand already moving.
"This is fun, but yeah… it's over."
He tapped a key. His voice echoed through the training room, calm and clear.
"As much as I enjoy watching you guys fight, I have to end it here. We finally got a call from Dad."
---
The fight stopped, but their muscles stayed tight. They stood still, breath heavy in their chests.
Ash wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. "They made it?"
Kael let out a slow breath, stretching one shoulder, then the other. The glow on his skin faded. "Looks like it."
Around them, the room lay in ruins. Walls blackened by flame. Floors cracked and stained. Training dummies reduced to ash and scraps. The heat clung to the air, thick and stubborn.
Ash scanned the space. "What a mess."
From the corner, bots rolled in. Metal arms reached out, grabbing debris, sweeping ash into neat piles.
Kael gave a small nod. "Relax. Max is handling it."
Ash picked up his sheath from a scorched bench. He slid the blade in with one smooth motion—click. Then turned, footsteps quiet as he followed Kael into the hallway.
Cool air hit them. It carried the clean scent of metal and something faintly citrus. Boxes lined the walls. Some were labeled in neat print. Others had messy scribbles across them. One box had only question marks on the side.
Ash glanced at it. 'That one's gotta be Max's.'
Kael stretched, lacing his fingers behind his head. "You know I let you tie me up, right?"
Ash turned slightly. "Yeah? Cause it looked like you were stuck."
Kael gave him a sideways glance. "I wanted to see what you were planning."
Ash didn't answer at first. His shoulders moved with a quiet shake. "Sure sounds like an excuse."
Max came into view at the end of the hallway. He popped another piece of popcorn into his mouth, watching them with easy eyes. "Best part? Watching you get wrapped up like a rookie."
Kael's jaw clenched for a second. "Not you too."
Max just shrugged, still walking. "Hey, I knew you let it happen. Still funny, though."
Kael muttered something under his breath, but Max had already turned, waving them forward.
"Come on. Dad's waiting."
————
The main room opened before them—spacious, with clean lines and sharp colors. A wide couch hugged the walls, black with red trim. At the center sat a white table, smooth and circular, its surface blank and waiting. Open boxes rested along the edges. Shirts, tools, and scraps of gear spilled out, a picture of life mid-unpacking.
Max reached the table. His fingers tapped once.
A low hum rose as the screen came to life. Light bloomed across the room. Static cut through the image, jagged lines slicing across the feed. Then a shape came into view—blurred, flickering.
A voice broke through.
"Can you hear me?"
Ash leaned forward, eyes sharp. "Yeah, we hear you."
Kael stepped up beside him, gaze locked onto the screen. "It's been a while."
A rough chuckle slipped through the static. "Still calling yourself 'Son of Flame'?"
Kael didn't flinch, but his stance shifted. "Of course. Gotta live up to the name."
Ash stood still, arms crossed. His eyes never left the flickering feed. The connection dipped. The image bent and shook. "Signal's bad. You okay?"
For a breath, nothing.
Then the voice returned, steady and full. "Ash, you worry too much. You really think anything out here can take me down?"
Ash let out a slow breath. "No. Just making sure."
"Good." The voice changed. Firmer now. "Now, something important."
The room held still.
Their father's voice came through, calm but with that edge that meant he expected something. "…Do you like the new place?"
For a second, no one answered.
Then Max leaned forward, tossing a popcorn kernel in the air. "Kitchen's solid. The bot makes pancakes."
Kael rolled his shoulder, still easing the tension from the earlier fight. "Training room's good. Could be bigger."
Ash's eyes drifted to the mess of boxes still lining the walls. Some were sealed tight. Others hung open, half-forgotten. "Still getting used to it."
A low laugh broke through the static. "Sounds right. You guys never unpack on time. Let me guess—you're still living out of one box?"
Max didn't hesitate. He jerked a thumb toward Ash. "Actually, he's the only one still doing that."
Ash blinked. His thoughts stumbled. 'Wait, why's he telling him that? It's not like I meant to.' The image of crashing on the couch the moment they moved in flashed through his mind. 'I just forgot. That's all.'
He turned his head slowly toward Max. His stare was flat. "You didn't even bring clothes."
Max lifted his hands like it proved his point. "Exactly. No packing, no problem."
Kael's voice cut through their bickering. "Can we focus?" He stepped closer to the screen. "Dad, how long this time?"
The screen buzzed again, the image shifting. Their father's reply came in low and steady. "Not sure yet. But I'll keep in touch. In the meantime…"
The feed wavered again, his voice breaking apart in the noise before snapping back.
Max tapped the table. His fingers moved fast, restless. His brow pinched. "What's the deal? Isn't Selene supposed to handle this?"
A sigh cracked across the signal, rough and tired. "She's working on it. Not as simple as it looks."
Max leaned back, arms folding. His mouth pressed into a thin line. "Nah, I'd have it fixed by now. Should've taken me instead. You know I'm better than her."
A second voice dropped in—clearer, sharper.
"You? Better than me?"
Max froze.
His spine went stiff. His hands dropped to his sides. "…Oh no."
Selene's voice came cool, controlled. "Did you forget I beat you? Or the bet you made? Winner gets to go. You lost. So stop whining."
Max's eyes narrowed. "I know you cheated. There was water on the board. I let it slide because I thought you wouldn't pull something that low, but now…"
A dry laugh echoed back. "You think I sabotaged you?"
Max pointed at the screen like he could reach through it. "You're the only one here with water abilities. Who else would it be?"
Ash leaned in, elbows resting on his knees. "Max, you sound like some guy who found a wet floor and decided it's proof of a global conspiracy."
Selene didn't pause. "Yeah, genius deduction. Water exists, so obviously, it's me. Absolutely revolutionary thinking."
Max's fingers curled, knuckles tight. "Then explain it."
Kael's silence stretched out. He shifted, just a hint, his body angling away. Too calm. Too quiet.
Ash's eyes narrowed, his focus sharpening. 'Wait. I know that look. He did something.'
He spoke, voice steady but piercing. "Kael."
Kael straightened his posture, all smooth confidence. "What?"
Max's attention snapped to Kael. "Wait. Kael?"
Kael raised both hands in a slow, practiced motion. "Alright. Before anyone jumps to conclusions, let's think this through. Could be condensation. Humidity. Maybe a tragic plumbing accident."
Selene exhaled, the sound carrying an edge of frustration. "Or maybe someone set something on fire near a cooling system, caused a pressure shift, and—shockingly—condensation formed?"
Ash pressed his fingers to his temple, the headache coming on fast. "Kael."
A quiet cough followed, then Kael rubbed the back of his neck, the motion almost sheepish. "Okay, maybe I… might've overheated a training dummy near the vents. And maybe that led to… unintended side effects."
Max threw his hands up in disbelief. "Unbelievable."
Selene's voice clipped through the air. "Fire and high-tech cooling don't mix. Especially not near critical systems."
Kael scratched at his collar, a nervous tic. "Yeah. Looking back… not my best idea."
A low chuckle came through the static. Their father's voice rumbled, steady and amused. "You three never change."
Ash leaned forward, elbows digging into his knees. His gaze fixed on the screen. "Are we fixing the signal, or is this just a comedy hour now?"
The screen flickered before their father's voice came through clear, strong. "I'll handle it. In the meantime…"
The feed warped again, shifting out of focus before settling back into place.
The connection cleared, his voice holding more weight now. "Selene's been a huge help. Her father looks different—lighter, maybe. I don't think I've ever seen him this proud. Having his kids with him… I guess it reminded him why he does this."
Kael leaned back, folding his arms with a grunt. "Forget all that. You know I'm stronger than everyone here. So why didn't you take me?"
Laughter cut in sharply, bouncing through the speakers. Selene's voice rang out, no mercy in it.
"You? Strong?" A pause, then another laugh. "Did you forget how many times my brother wiped the floor with you?"
Kael sat up, his eyes hardening. "Not that many. Eighty-three. And two of those weren't losses." His expression darkened. "Elias has been training way longer. It's normal that he's ahead."
Their father hummed thoughtfully on the other end. "And that right there, son, is why I didn't take you."
Kael's jaw tightened. "What—"
"You're not ready," came the steady reply. "And I don't want my boys anywhere near something this dangerous."
Max stretched out, his legs sinking deeper into the couch. He spoke with a lazy drawl. "Yeah, leaving the galaxy isn't exactly a weekend trip."
Kael rolled his shoulders, shaking off the tension. "Anyway, since I'm the strongest here, I'll be leading this little group from now on."
Silence.
Ash and Max exchanged a long, unblinking stare. No words, just a shared understanding.
Kael's chin lifted, a challenge in the set of his jaw. "What?"
Their father let the silence hang, heavy and deliberate, before his voice broke through, calm and sure.
"Well… I already chose a leader."
Ash's thoughts were sharp. 'Definitely not Kael.'
Max let out a soft sigh, already bracing for what was coming. "Here it comes."
Their father didn't hesitate. "Max will be leading Team Vortex while I'm away."
Kael's body went rigid. His hands clenched at his sides, and the tension was palpable. "What?! But I'm the strongest!"
"That's exactly why." Their father's voice didn't waver. "Strength alone doesn't make a leader. Max thinks ahead. He's the oldest. And honestly?" He paused for a beat. "If you two fought, my money's on Max."
Max leaned forward, his grin slow and knowing. "It'd be like fighting a monkey that only knows how to throw fire."
Kael shot to his feet, face flushed with anger. "What?! Monkey?!"
Max stretched his arms, his voice bored, almost uninterested. "You just hurl flames without thinking. You're predictable. I'd figure you out before you even got serious."
Kael's fists tightened, his eyes flickering with heat. "Ohhh, I see. You're just mad because your vitalforce is garbage."
Max raised an eyebrow, unfazed. "Mad? At you?"
Kael's smirk returned, a flash of triumph. "Yeah. You barely make sparks, and I can turn entire rooms into ovens. Sounds like jealousy to me."
Max didn't flinch. "I let my brain do the heavy lifting."
Ash leaned back into the couch, his gaze drifting away from the argument. 'There's no point in stepping in. If I do, they'll turn on me next. Not yet. Not now.'
Max and Kael could argue for hours, their rivalry burning hotter than the flames they wielded. But Ash knew he didn't belong in their back-and-forth.
Max's flames were wild, eager. They roared to life at his command, twisting around his hands and feet, then exploding outward. His control was tight, each burst deliberate, but still, it lacked something. Something Kael had.
Kael's fire didn't just burn; it carved the air. Each flicker of flame was exact, a cutting force that could boil the air around it. His fire didn't hesitate or falter. It obeyed, like it was an extension of his will. Kael wasn't just using fire—he was mastering it, the heat radiating with the power of his Master Veinflow and Tier 6 Vitalforce. His flames felt alive.
Ash flexed his fingers, feeling the familiar warmth at his fingertips. A spark flared up, weak and uncertain, struggling to take form. It didn't last. Thirty seconds. That's all he got.
Initiated Veinflow. The lowest stage.
His flames sputtered and fizzled, unable to form the roaring bursts Max could summon or the controlled precision of Kael's fire. No matter how hard he tried, his veins refused to grow. His fire was reluctant—like it couldn't decide if it wanted to burn or just fade away.
He exhaled slowly, steady. It didn't matter. He'd already hit his limit. No amount of training would change that.
Because fire wasn't the only thing he could wield.
Lightning had been conquered. He could call it, shape it, control it like it was part of him. But Darkness—Darkness was different. It twisted, coiling at the edge of his consciousness, resisting. It never listened, never bent to his will. It held him back, caging him in Initiated Veinflow no matter how hard he tried to push.
That's why he'd picked up the blade.
Not because he preferred it. But because it was the only thing that didn't care about Veinflow. The only thing that didn't measure his strength in flames or power. The blade was about skill. Technique. Precision. Things he could control.
And one day, he'd be strong enough. One day, the blade would be enough.