"Tell me a story, Mama." Kael's voice was soft, expectant, carrying the sleepy weight of a child who didn't yet understand the dangers of the world. He was four years old, and in his little universe, stories always had happy endings.
His mother, standing by the counter with a warm mug of cinnamon tea in her hands, smiled down at him. Her dark hair was loose over her shoulders, and her amber eyes glowed softly under the dim light of the penthouse.
"A story, hmm?" she mused, taking a slow sip of her tea. "And what kind of story does my little star want to hear?"
Kael grinned, sitting cross-legged on the marble floor, surrounded by stacks of golden coin rolls. "A good one. One with treasure."
His mother chuckled, setting down her mug and walking toward him, her heels clicking lightly. She crouched beside him, brushing a hand through his messy curls. "Treasure, huh? Alright then… Once upon a time, there was a boy who held the key to a great secret."
Kael leaned in, eyes wide. "What kind of secret?"
"A powerful one." She tapped his nose playfully. "One that could change the world."
He giggled, but before she could continue, the doorbell rang.
The warmth in the room vanished in an instant.
Kael felt it immediately—the way his mother's smile faded, how her body stiffened as she stood. The gentle hum of the slow piano song playing in the background suddenly felt too loud, too sharp.
His father, seated at his desk across the room, barely hesitated before rising. His face was unreadable, but Kael saw the tension in his shoulders.
"Stay here," his father ordered, already moving toward the door.
His mother turned back to him, crouching once more, but her voice was different now—tight, urgent.
"Kael," she said softly, gripping his small hands, "listen to me. No matter what happens, you stay right here, okay?"
Kael frowned, confused. "But why?"
Her fingers tightened slightly. "Just promise me."
Something in her face made his chest feel tight, but he nodded. She kissed his forehead, lingering just a second too long.
Then she stood and followed his father to the door.
Kael didn't move, but he listened.
The door creaked open.
And then he saw a figure, "Dr. Draven. I told you we'd meet again."
Kael's father inhaled sharply. "You shouldn't be here."
Kael scrambled to his feet. His heart pounded in his chest as he peeked around the corner.
Three men stood in the doorway. One of them—the tallest—wore a mirrored mask. It reflected the world around it, but somehow, it showed nothing. No eyes. No mouth. Just void.
Kael's mother moved. Her hand darted toward the drawer where she kept a plasma pistol—
Too slow, one of the men kicked the table into her ribs.
She fell hard, gasping as the air was knocked from her lungs.
"Mom!" Kael screamed, terror tightening his throat.
His father spun, blood already blooming across his white shirt.
"No! Kael—hide!"
Kael hesitated, legs frozen, until strong arms wrapped around him.
His father. "Daddy?" Kael whimpered as his father dragged him toward the kitchen.
There was so much blood. His father's grip was tight despite his trembling hands. With a sharp motion, he yanked open a hidden panel in the floor.
A dark crawl space yawned beneath.
"Inside. Now." His father's voice was low, urgent.
Kael shook his head, tears spilling. "I don't wanna—"
His father knelt, pressing something into Kael's small hand Cold and a solid golden coin.
"You keep this," his father whispered, his voice shaking. "No matter what happens, you survive."
Kael didn't want the coin. He wanted his parents.
His father cupped his face. "Kael. Listen to me. Stay quiet. Stay hidden. No matter what you hear, do not come out. Do you understand?"
Kael sobbed but nodded, his father hesitated. For a brief second, he just looked at him. Then he pressed a kiss to Kael's forehead—just like his mother had—and shoved him inside.
Kael curled up, pressing his back against the wooden wall, heart hammering.
And then— Gunfire.
A scream—his mother's.
Kael's breath hitched. He squeezed his hands over his ears, but it didn't block out the crack of breaking bones, the dull thud of a body hitting marble.
Through a small slit, he saw it all his mother with Blood pooled beneath her.
Kael bit his hand to keep him from screaming. His father was still standing. Barely.
His voice was hoarse with a low tone, "You don't understand. The CoinCore isn't yours to control."
The man in the mirrored mask tilted his head. Then he raised a small silver device as he touched it with a soft click, immediately Kael's father collapsed.
No sound. No struggle. Just… gone.
Kael couldn't breathe as he choked whimper slipped from his throat before he could stop it.
The masked man turned and Kael froze immediately.
The man stepped forward as he stood directly in front of the hidden panel.
Kael bit down on his lip until he tasted blood.
"He's watching," one of the men murmured.
The masked figure was silent for a long time. Then, finally, he crouched slightly—pressing his gloved fingers to the floor above Kael's hiding spot.
"Let him watch," the man said softly. His voice was calm. Almost amused. "He needs to see what happens when people try to free the system."
Then he stood, but they were gone. They left like shadows fading from a dream.
Kael didn't move and didn't breathe.
He stayed curled up in the darkness, his whole body shaking. Blood from his palm dripped onto the coin, staining it.
His mind kept screaming at him to move, to run to his parents, to shake them awake—But his body wouldn't listen.
He buried his face into his knees, muffling his sobs.
Tears burned down his cheeks, hot and endless.
"M-Mama…" His voice cracked, barely above a whisper. "Daddy…" The world felt too big, too empty, too wrong.
He wanted his mother's arms around him. Wanted his father's steady voice telling him everything would be okay, but they were gone.