Chapter 16: Fractured Reflections

The world around Arc Lee trembles, shifting into a hazy blur as reality bends. The warmth of the helicopter cabin is gone, replaced by an eerie silence that feels like an echo of forgotten dreams. He stumbles forward, disoriented, as the air grows heavy, and a fog rolls in, distorting his senses. His mind is pulled into a deep, unavoidable descent—into an illusion crafted from the fragments of his own memories.

Suddenly, he's no longer a soldier, no longer the product of evolution, systems, and missions. He's a child—an infant cradled in a small, sterile nursery in Washington, D.C. The muffled hum of hospital machinery fills his ears, along with the soft voices of two figures standing by his crib: his parents.

His mother, Emma Lee, a surgeon with weary but determined eyes, leans over him, cooing softly. His father, John Lee, with a stiff but warm smile, stands behind her—an ordinary man working in insurance but burdened with unspoken anxieties. They seem fragile in the low light of the room, yet there's a strength in their presence. Arc can feel it—the unrelenting love that radiates from them, as if they are his world and he is theirs.

The Infant Life

He watches as the years roll by, faster than he can grasp. He sees his mother working long shifts at the hospital, sometimes missing holidays. His father is always there, though—steady, quiet, often too tired to play but never absent. Arc remembers the way his dad would wait for his mother late into the night, a cup of tea in hand, listening to the radio until she returned.

Then the warmth starts to fracture.

The illusion shifts, and he is no longer a baby but a small child sitting alone in his room, holding a toy soldier in one hand and a dragon figurine in the other. Outside, snow falls, and the world feels still. Too still. He watches as his father has hushed conversations with his mother, tension creeping into their voices. His young mind doesn't fully grasp it, but he remembers the ache of those moments—the way his family felt like a fragile dream slipping away.

His heartbeat quickens, and suddenly he's pulled further through the illusion—hurtling toward his teen years.

Teenage Frustration

The scene changes again. Arc is now in his early teens, sitting at the dinner table with his parents. His mother, ever the perfectionist, criticizes his grades, worried he's not trying hard enough. His father offers a softer touch, though his eyes betray the same concern.

"You need to be better than this, Arc," his mother says, her voice stern but loving. "The world isn't going to give you second chances."

Arc clenches his fists under the table, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. Even back then, he knew they wanted the best for him, but it felt suffocating. They didn't understand the weight he carried—the strange dreams, the flashes of war, the inexplicable sense that he didn't belong in the ordinary world. He couldn't tell them about the memories of battles and death that haunted his nights. How could he explain something even he didn't fully understand?

The illusion sharpens, and the once-warm household begins to unravel. His parents argue more. His father is exhausted, drowning in work he hates. His mother buries herself in surgery shifts, sometimes not coming home for days. Arc is left alone with questions no one can answer, his frustration festering like a wound.

And then, the moment that breaks him.

The Adult Loss

Arc blinks, and now he's an adult. His mother lies motionless on a hospital bed. The monitors beep steadily, but the sound feels distant. He watches his father standing by the bed, silent tears running down his face, his entire frame hunched under invisible weight. Emma Lee—his mother, the strongest woman he ever knew—is fading before his eyes, a victim of an illness even she couldn't outfight.

He tries to say something—anything—but the words stick in his throat. His father collapses into a chair, burying his face in his hands. Arc stands frozen, guilt gnawing at his soul. He was supposed to protect them. Somehow, he was supposed to be strong enough to prevent this.

And then, not long after, his father follows.

John Lee's heart gives out quietly one morning, the burden of grief too much to bear. Arc finds him slumped over at the dining table, a cup of cold tea in his hand, as if waiting for someone who never came back.

Alone. Arc is alone. The weight of his parents' loss crushes him, leaving him gasping for air in a world that feels cold and meaningless. His knees buckle, and he falls to the ground in the illusion, clutching his chest as tears stream down his face.

The System's Whisper

The fog thickens around him, and the air hums with energy. From the depths of the illusion, a voice—deep, ancient, and familiar—reaches out to him.

"You want them back, don't you?"

Arc's heart pounds in his chest. "Yes... I'll do anything."

"Then evolve. Become something greater. Break the chains that bind you to mortality. Only through power—absolute power—can you change fate."

The words claw at his soul, igniting something buried deep within him. The pain of loss sharpens into resolve. The system stirs, a flicker of light in the darkness, offering him a path forward. If he can master the power awakened within him—if he can unlock every evolution, master every ability—perhaps he can rewrite the rules of life and death.

The illusion shifts one final time, showing him a vision: his parents alive and whole, standing in the distance, waiting for him. His mother's eyes are soft with pride, and his father offers him a rare, heartfelt smile. They fade into the mist, but the promise lingers.

"Evolve, Arc. Evolve or perish."

Awakening with Purpose

The illusion shatters, and Arc wakes with a gasp, his face wet with tears. He clutches his chest, his breath ragged. The weight of his grief is still there, but it no longer paralyzes him. It fuels him.

He wipes his eyes with the back of his hand, his jaw clenched tight. He knows what he has to do now.

This isn't just about survival. This is about changing everything—defying the laws of nature, mastering evolution, and bending reality to his will. If there's even the slightest chance of bringing his parents back, he'll take it. And for those responsible—those who manipulated, experimented, and took everything from him—there will be no mercy.

Arc stands, the fog of the illusion still clinging to his mind. But he feels stronger now, clearer. His purpose is no longer clouded by doubt.

"Evolve or perish."

With a renewed sense of purpose, Arc strides forward, ready to face whatever lies ahead. The system hums in the back of his mind, waiting to be unleashed. And this time, nothing will stop him.