Extinct

Charleston leaned back in his chair, his expression hardening at the mention of a name that struck him like a lightning bolt. It was a name he hadn't heard in years—a name tied to memories he had buried deep. Kara. His daughter. The daughter who had stormed out of town, consumed by frustration and bitterness, after failing to surpass her younger brother. She had left because the town mocked her, branded her a failure, and turned their backs on her. Even Charleston, her own father, had been among those who looked down on her.

Kara's inability to control her mutant ability had been a bitter disappointment. She relied on mutant weapons and armor to survive—a stark contrast to the raw, unbridled power her younger brother had wielded effortlessly. Charleston had judged her harshly, his pride blinding him to the pain his words inflicted. But the moment she left town, regret began gnawing at his conscience. He hadn't just lost a daughter; he had driven her away.