The Wrath of a Brother

The air crackled with Lucien's overwhelming aura, golden energy distorting the very fabric of space around him. The Variant, once so confident, stood frozen—terrified.

Its body shook, its instincts screaming at it to flee, but its legs refused to move.

Lucien stepped forward, slow and deliberate. His golden pupils burned with an ancient fury, his very presence radiating a pressure so intense that the tunnel's walls trembled, loose debris falling from the ceiling.

"You thought she was weak?" His voice was eerily calm, yet it carried an edge that made even the air feel heavier. "You thought you could just end her?"

The Variant staggered back, clawing at its own mangled arm in desperation.

"You don't understand," it rasped, voice distorted by panic. "She—she—"

Lucien disappeared.

The next moment, a brutal shockwave erupted as he appeared directly in front of the Variant, his hand gripping its throat.

A sickening crunch echoed through the tunnel as Lucien slammed the creature into the ground with monstrous force. The ground cratered beneath the impact, cracks spreading like a spiderweb.

The Variant choked, struggling weakly against his grip.

Lucien tightened his hold.

"You don't get to speak."

The Variant's eyes bulged, its claws scratching at Lucien's arm in a futile attempt to break free.

Valeria, still collapsed on the ground, tried to lift her head. Her vision blurred, but she could still see him.

Her baby brother—standing over their enemy, dominant, unyielding.

Her heart clenched.

Even through her pain, even as she could barely feel her own body, a fierce pride burned within her.

He's grown so strong…

But at the same time—

"Lucien," she croaked out, her voice hoarse.

He didn't hear her.

His golden pupils had become razor-thin slits, his aura growing more unstable by the second.

And then—

The Variant did something foolish.

With a final, desperate shriek, it lashed out—its free arm slashing toward Valeria.

Lucien snapped.

The moment the Variant's claws moved, he reacted.

A single, golden slash tore through the air.

The Variant screamed as its arm was severed, black blood spraying across the tunnel walls.

Lucien flung its battered body aside like a discarded rag.

The Variant collided with the tunnel wall so hard that its spine cracked, its body slumping forward in agony.

Lucien didn't stop.

He raised his hand—golden energy swirling ominously in his palm. The sheer pressure of his gathering power made the air hum with raw destruction.

Valeria's eyes widened.

"Lucien, stop!"

Her voice was sharper this time, filled with urgency.

His golden pupils flicked toward her—just for a second.

That was all she needed.

"Don't let it consume you," she whispered.

Lucien froze.

His body trembled—his heart pounding.

The weight of his rage, his power, his instincts—all of it screamed at him to end the creature.

But then he saw her.

Valeria—his sister—his family—gazing up at him, her body still trembling from exhaustion, yet her eyes were filled with something more powerful than pain.

She's more worried about me than herself.

Lucien took a sharp breath.

His hand lowered.

The golden energy in his palm faded.

The Variant coughed violently, barely clinging to life.

But Lucien had already turned away from it.

Instead, he was at Valeria's side in an instant, kneeling beside her.

She tried to push herself up, but her legs wouldn't respond.

Her breath hitched.

Lucien saw the flicker of fear in her eyes.

A fear she never showed, not even when fighting monsters, demons, or even when she lost her legs the first time.

This was different.

This was the fear of never standing again.

Lucien hated it.

"Don't move," he said softly.

She gritted her teeth. "I can still—"

"Valeria." His voice was firm, but gentle. "Stop pushing yourself."

Her throat tightened.

She looked at him, really looked at him.

His expression was calm, but his hands trembled slightly as they reached out toward her.

He's worried.

That realization almost broke her.

He was already suffering, already pushing himself past his limits, yet here he was—kneeling beside her, protecting her, as if she was the fragile one.

Her chest ached.

Lucien carefully lifted her, cradling her as if she weighed nothing.

Valeria's pride screamed at her to protest, to argue, to say she could still fight—

But she didn't.

Because for the first time in a long time—

She let herself rely on him.

And for the first time in a long time—

She felt safe.

Selene and Eris rushed toward them the moment the battle was over.

"Lucien!" Selene's voice was frantic as she saw the blood on his clothes.

He held up a hand. "I'm fine."

Her gaze shifted to Valeria, still in his arms.

Selene's breath hitched. "Valeria—"

Valeria forced a small smirk, despite her exhaustion. "Still alive, Mom."

Selene's eyes darkened as she took in her daughter's condition.

"You pushed yourself too far."

Valeria's smirk faltered.

She knew.

Selene saw it.

Eris saw it.

Everyone saw it.

Her body wouldn't recover from this easily.

Lucien could feel his mother's emotions swirling—anger, sorrow, guilt.

Before she could spiral further, he gently shifted Valeria in his arms and turned to their mother.

"We need to leave," he said, voice steady. "Now."

Selene clenched her fists, then nodded.

Without wasting another second, they moved.

Far in the distance, a pair of glowing red eyes observed from the shadows.

Its massive form loomed over the city ruins, its aura barely contained.

The demon that controlled the horde was dead.

But something worse had taken notice.

Its gaze locked onto the small group moving through the tunnels—

And it smiled