Battle

All the Zakharovs were powerful, terrifying, and utterly devastating in their own right. But it was Isaac who was the real nightmare. Not because he was the strongest, nor the most ruthless, but because he was unpredictable and wild.

Isaac watched the chaos unfold from his perch, a lazy grin stretching across his face. The air was thick with the scent of burning wood and blood, but to him, it smelled like excitement. With a quiet chuckle, he took a slow sip from the fruit juice he'd swiped off some table, as if this were nothing more than a street performance for his amusement.

Then, in one fluid motion, he hopped off the ledge. No sound. No wasted movement. Just a whisper of wind as he landed as softly as a feather.

Aspect: Clock Of Possibilities

Aspect Rank: Sacred

Flaw: Youth

True Name: Joker's Gambit

Attributes:

[Fortunate]

[Provoker]

[Seer]

Abilities:

Dormant: Winner

Awakened: Gambler's Virtue

Ascended: Rock, Paper, Scissors

Isaac never had a conventional fighting style. He didn't crush his enemies like Diego or command the dead like Noah. His power was subtle. Slippery. Like rolling dice and always landing on the number he wanted.

It made people uneasy.

Because how do you fight someone whose every step is dictated by luck? How do you predict a man who plays by rules only he understands?

Still, for all the power he had now, Isaac remembered the time after his first Nightmare. The exhilaration of survival had lasted mere seconds before the crushing weight of his flaw settled in. Youth. Forever frozen at the age he awakened. No growth. No change. Just… stuck.

It wasn't a gift. It was a goddamn curse.

At first, it didn't seem so bad. But then, the thought took root. Watching the people he cared about grow old. Watching them die. And him? Stuck in the same body, the same face, never moving forward.

It terrified him.

But fear didn't stop him. He had learned that from Klaus and Diego. Not to mention, Tatiana's life had been so wretched, so unrelentingly cruel, that Isaac struggled to think of a single soul who could compare to her suffering. So How could he complain about his flaw all day? No, that would've been pathetic.

As for Klaus...

Isaac had always thought his older brother was a genius. That his talent made him untouchable. But the truth was far grimmer. Klaus wasn't born brilliant—he made himself that way. He spent his childhood not playing, not enjoying the luxuries of wealth, but training. Studying. Grinding himself into something greater.

He spent years in the Dream Realm as child. Klaus rarely talked about his childhood but Isaac could tell that it was living hell.

As for his abilities. That was even more problematic.

Trying to understand abilities that didn't make sense. Space-time was powerful. Heck, Isaac couldn't imagine who could be more powerful than Klaus but... It wasn't so simple. Not only he needed to know fundamental principles of those laws but also he needed to understand them. Take his simple Key Of Light, which is practically teleportation, for a example. Teleportation involves vapourising objects to quantum particles and quantum entangling them; then you transport one set to the desired destination; observe the set at the origin which would be allegedly duplicated at the destination; then recreating the object from the other set. At least, that's how Isaac understood it. Who knows how much more complex it was?

Sounds Simple? than go and try than same thing in reality. Yeah, it's extremely dangerous and unpredictable. Maybe because it was his aspect, he used only few months to fully master them. But than again, almost every awakeneds could use their powers right after awakening but he couldn't. Understanding those laws and principles and adding it to mystical power of Soul Essence, with his eyes that could see pathways to open the doors of space... Not that simple or easy now, huh?

Isaac, Diego, Noah, Tatiana—they all had their talents, their quirks, their strengths. But at some point, they realized they didn't admire Klaus for his power.

They admired him for his mindset.

For his relentlessness, his discipline and ambitions. His refusal to break, no matter how many times life shattered him.

Klaus was the kind of person who would be crushed, torn apart, beaten into dust—and he would still pull himself together, piece by jagged piece, and keep going. Like glass reforged in fire.

And that's why Isaac followed him. Not because he had to. Not because Klaus was the eldest.

But because out of everyone in the world, his brother was the one person he would bet on—every single time. His brother was his greatest friend and also his greatest ally.

___

Liam was running out of time.

The dead were tearing his people apart. That damn Ferryman had turned the battlefield into a slaughterhouse, his army of walking corpses overwhelming Liam's forces. Meanwhile, that lunatic El Diablo was rampaging unchecked, his laughter ringing through the chaos like a death knell. And where were the other three?

Liam cursed, barely managing to block Diego's blazing fist with his forearm. The heat scorched his skin, the force staggering him backward.

"You bastards..." Liam growled, his breath ragged.

Diego just grinned. "That's the spirit!" Then he dashed forward, even faster, even stronger, fire bursting from his fists like an inferno.

Liam gritted his teeth. He wasn't weak. His ability was powerful—his Aspect was Transcendent-rank, and while transformation was a privilege exclusive to Saints, he was an exception.

The air trembled as his body swelled, muscles thickening, bones stretching. His skin darkened, hardening into something more beast than man. His head elongated, twisting into the form of a mighty bull—a Minotaur. His roar shook the battlefield, and when he lifted his massive battle axe, his subordinates surged forward with renewed fury.

For a moment, they pushed back.

Diego found himself surrounded. Noah's undead army faltered as their ranks were cut down, torn apart by warriors who refused to surrender. Liam's people were strong. Not monsters like the Zakharovs, but they had numbers, and numbers mattered.

Liam towered over them all, his massive nine-foot frame casting a shadow over the battlefield. He swung his axe—once, twice—the very air cracking beneath the force of his strikes. Noah stepped lightly across the falling corpses, dodging the shockwaves with grace, while Diego took the attack head-on. His shield of blackened flames groaned under the impact, but he only laughed, his eyes glinting with mad exhilaration.

The battle raged—until a scream split the air.

A sound so raw, so filled with terror, that Liam froze.

His heart clenched. He knew that voice.

His transformation shattered instantly, his massive form shrinking back into human flesh. He turned, eyes wide, searching—

And then he saw her.

Olivia.

His lover. The woman he had never treated perfectly, had never been entirely faithful to—but he had loved her, damn it. In his own way, he had loved her.

And now, she stood in front of Tatiana, trembling. Her tear-streaked face was twisted in terror, her body marred by scratches and bruises.

Tatiana's nails dug into Olivia's throat. Wicked smile splitting her face as she dragged Olivia forward like a pet on a leash, her long, sharp nails twisted in the woman's hair.

Diego let out a chuckle. Looks like the plan worked.

"Now, now," Tatiana cooed, tilting her head. "You don't have to look at me like that. I know I'm beautiful, but really, it's getting embarrassing."

Liam barely heard her.

His fists clenched. His breath came in ragged bursts, a low, guttural growl rising in his throat. Cold, murderous rage flooded through his veins.

"I'll kill you," he whispered. His eyes burned as his voice rose into a snarl. "I'll fucking butcher you, you bitch!!"

Tatiana raised an eyebrow, amused. "Really?" She sighed, shaking her head as if speaking to a particularly dense child. "Do you still think you have a chance?"

She let the words sink into his bones. Spreading her arms while looking around, she walked towards him, her expression bit arrogant.

"Fine. I'll release her." She tightened her grip on Olivia's hair. "But on one condition—you surrender. You leave. Take your little army and walk away. Are we clear?"

Liam's breath hitched.

He looked around. His men were still fighting, still bleeding. But they were losing ground. This wasn't just a battle anymore—this was a massacre.

And Olivia… Olivia was looking at him, eyes wide, pleading. Her body shook as silent tears streaked down her face.

His jaw tightened.

If he surrendered, he would lose everything. His district. His power. His name.

But if he didn't—

Olivia would die.

Slowly, he exhaled. His fingers loosened at his sides. His shoulders sagged. And then, finally, he lowered his head.

Tatiana laughed softly. A pleased, satisfied sound. She reached out, patting his cheek mockingly. "Good boy." Then, with a snap of her fingers, she let Olivia go.

Olivia stumbled forward, collapsing into Liam's arms, sobbing against his chest. He held her tightly, feeling her tremble against him, feeling her warmth, her fear, her pain.

Liam exhaled sharply, holding Olivia close. His body trembled—not with relief, but with something darker, something sharper. They actually let her go? Just like that?

His lips curled into a slow, malicious grin.

Idiots.

They had given him exactly what he needed. Olivia was safe in his arms now, no longer their leverage. And that meant—

He could kill them.

His fingers twitched, power surging through his veins. The thrill of violence pulsed in his chest, rising, rising, demanding release. He was going to rip them apart. He would—

…Wait.

His grin faltered.

Something wasn't right.

The Zakharovs weren't that stupid. They wouldn't just trust him to walk away. They wouldn't—

His gaze snapped up, scanning their faces, searching for the mistake.

And then he saw it.

Their smiles.

Not forced or uncertain but amused.

Tatiana stood there, her lips curved in that same wicked, knowing smirk. Diego, relaxed as ever, cracked his knuckles, watching him like a cat watching a wounded mouse. Noah remained eerily still, his dead, cold gaze locked onto Liam.

They were smiling.

And Liam felt something deep in his gut twist.

His breath caught in his throat. His body locked up, tension freezing his limbs.

A chill ran down his spine.

Why… are they smiling?

And… why is everything upside down?