Sins of the Strong

Chapter 14

The small automated door of Lucien's house slid open, and he stepped out into the night. His athletic frame was bare to the cool air, his usually well-styled hair falling freely over his shoulders. In his hands, he carried a transparent wine bottle and two champagne glasses.

Isaac stood waiting in the yard as Lucien gestured toward a small table beneath the lone tree at the edge of the property. Neither spoke as they walked to the table and sat down. Lucien poured drinks for them both with steady hands, breaking the silence at last.

"Nothing you say tonight will change my mind," Lucien began, his voice calm yet firm. "I'm giving you this audience out of respect—for the comrade you once were. You, who once shared the same title as 'the strongest.'"

Isaac leaned forward, his expression strained. "It's out of that same respect that I've come here, Lucien. To ask you—no, to tell you—to reconsider. A coup against the Council is madness. It makes no sense. It's a battle you will lose. Or has your delusion of strength convinced you that you can take on the full military might of Sierra?"

Lucien chuckled, a low, humorless sound.

"Take out the king," he said, "and the kingdom crumbles."

"You think they'll just stand by and let you—"

"I gave them their chance." Lucien's voice cut sharply through Isaac's. "I watched from the sidelines, waiting, hoping Sierra would change. But it didn't. The rot has only worsened—the stench is suffocating. I've turned a blind eye long enough. And now, they've dared to cross the line I drew. The line I made clear. No one was to interfere with my personal agendas. And it's your fault, Isaac. If you'd stayed dead, none of this would have happened."

Isaac flinched, but his gaze remained steady, his voice unwavering. "It's your childish belief—your obsession with strength—that caused all of this. Eunice's death was your fault. The broken state of your so-called Utopia? That's your fault too. But you can't see it because your pride blinds you. It's always been your greatest flaw. As your brother, Lucien, I'm begging you: let this go."

Lucien turned to face him fully, his piercing gaze meeting Isaac's. A silent storm of anger and pain churned between them.

"Why didn't you come for me?" Lucien asked suddenly, his voice quieter now. "When you found out I was involved in Eunice's death, why didn't you come after me?"

Isaac drew in a slow, deep breath. "At first, I wanted you dead. No matter the bond we shared, I hated you so much I was willing to do anything to end you. But then…I realized something. Eunice didn't die because of you."

Lucien raised an eyebrow, a bitter smile curling his lips. "Oh? Then why?"

Isaac met his gaze, his voice low. "Because I was weak."

Lucien's smile grew sharper, more venomous. "You were weak," he echoed, a mocking edge in his tone.

Isaac said nothing.

"Yes," he said finally, "Eunice died because I was weak. I've accepted that."

"Then why don't you see the world as I see it?" Lucien demanded, his voice rising, his calm unraveling. "To some degree, you must understand how I feel. That hatred. That helplessness. The feeling of weakness—the trembling knees, the buckling body, the sheer powerlessness when the people you swore to protect…" He paused, his voice thick with emotion. "When children—their dreams, their futures—are snuffed out because you weren't strong enough.

"They haunt me, Isaac. Those children. Their dreams. They haunt me, even in my sleep. So now you see why I'm doing this. Why I have to."

Isaac reached for him, his tone softening. "Forgive yourself, Lucien. Please. Helen, Eunice, and the others—they wouldn't want to see you like this."

Lucien slammed the table, his voice shaking with fury.

 "Shut up! What the hell do you know about how they feel, huh? Everyone I've ever loved is dead. My team is dead. Eunice is dead. You—the only family I ever had—you're more or less dead to me. So don't you dare preach to me like you understand how I feel!"

He screamed the words, his voice raw and ragged.

Isaac held his ground, his expression resolute but tinged with sorrow. "I believe there's still good in you, Lucien. Killing Eunice—although you call it a 'necessary loss'—wasn't part of your plan."

Lucien froze, his breath catching. His eyes narrowed as he stared at Isaac, trying to read his face.

"The person who killed Eunice…" Isaac continued, his voice unwavering, "you killed him."

For a moment, the night was silent except for the faint rustle of leaves in the yard. Lucien's lips parted, but no sound came. His shock was plain.

"How…how did you know?" he finally asked, his voice barely audible.

Isaac stepped closer, his voice firm now. "Because I know you, Lucien. I know the kind of man you are, even if you've forgotten. But if you're still this stubborn—still this blockheaded and unreasonable—then I'll fight you."

Lucien's shock faded, replaced by a mix of anger and disbelief. "You'd fight me?"

"Yes," Isaac said. "Killing the Council would create more chaos than it would ever solve. I've seen you in pain, Lucien. I know how much you've suffered. I don't want you to carry more grief than you already do. And I won't let you destroy yourself." His voice softened, but his resolve was unshaken. "Because that's what family does."

At this, Lucien began to laugh—a low, humorless chuckle that grew into uncontrollable laughter. He clutched his stomach as if the weight of the irony was too much to bear.

"You think you can stop me?" Lucien asked, his voice filled with venomous amusement. "What makes you think you can win, Isaac?"

Isaac didn't flinch. "Because I have something worth fighting for."

Lucien's laughter ceased abruptly, his face hardening. "I'd love to see you defend that," he said, his voice dangerously calm as he stood.

He leaned closer to Isaac, his eyes alight with a mix of fury and excitement. "On the third of this month, I'll stage my coup. If you think you can protect the Council—or the colony—from a force of nature, then come. Let's finally settle this. Once and for all. Who is the strongest—you or me?"

Lucien didn't wait for a reply. He turned sharply and strode back toward the house, a wide grin spreading across his face. At the door, Helen was waiting for him, her arms crossed.

"What's with the smirk?" she asked.

Lucien didn't answer her directly. Instead, he plucked a black violin from where it hung on the wall. "Rest up," he said as he turned away, his grin widening. "Things are about to get interesting."

"Cancel all plans for the week," he added as he walked into a dimly lit room, retrieving a bow from its place at the entrance. The grin never left his face as he disappeared into the darkness.

Isaac stepped outside, his shoulders heavy with the weight of what was to come.

"Wait," Helen called after him, her voice uncertain.

Isaac paused but didn't turn around. Slowly, Helen approached, the glow from the yard lights highlighting her sharp features.

"Do you have time?" she asked.

"I'm not in a hurry," he replied. "You must be his assistant, right?"

"My name is Helen."

Isaac furrowed his brow, his expression shifting to confusion as he studied her face. There was something…familiar.

She sighed, reading his thoughts. "No, I'm not that Helen," she said softly. "I get that a lot."

Isaac's confusion deepened, but she continued. "I don't actually remember my real name. But 'Helen' was the human name I was given—apart from the slurs people threw at me. I stuck with it, even though it was a mistake. It's all I had."

Her voice wavered slightly. "I overheard your conversation with the General. I'm afraid…" She hesitated. "I'm afraid he's about to make a decision that will break him beyond repair."

"Then why don't you stop him?" Isaac asked, his voice sharp.

Helen lowered her gaze. "I can't. Call me a coward if you want—I don't care. But I've sworn my loyalty to him. The General took me in when no one else saw me as human. Even among the most despicable, I was despised. He saved me. I can't betray him. That's why…" She looked up, her eyes pleading. "That's why I'm asking you. Please, help him. He has so much to offer the colony. If he dies—or if he breaks—it won't fix anything. It will only make things worse."

Isaac said nothing for a long moment. Then, without a word, he turned and began walking toward the gate.

"Have you ever witnessed a battle between two Dominion-level heroes?" he asked, his voice cold.

Helen shook her head.

"Lucien and I…" Isaac paused, glancing over his shoulder. "We were once thought of as something beyond Dominion-class. The upper echelon."

As he spoke, a powerful aura radiated from him—visible even to Helen. The sheer pressure sent a chill down her spine, forcing her to step back.

"If we go all out," Isaac said, his tone grim, "we could destroy the colony. So I can't guarantee his safety."

Helen's breath caught in her throat as Isaac turned fully to face her, his eyes burning with cold, focused rage.

"But I promise you this," he said, his voice like steel. "I'll bring Lucien back."

Just Outside the Hospital…

Giovanni stood before Janice and Malick, his body still wrapped in bandages from his recent injuries. His posture was tense, but the fire in his gaze burned undeterred.

"I've been thinking about how to assist Master Isaac in this fight," he began, his voice calm but edged with weariness. "But as it turns out, I'm nowhere near a hundred percent. Hell, I'm not even at fifty. Still…"

He looked at the two of them, their faces filled with resolve. A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "The fire I see in both your eyes—damn it, I just can't say no to you asking me to train you."

"We trust you, Giovanni," Janice said, her voice steady. "You're the closest thing we have to them in terms of battle ability. If anyone can help us assist Isaac, it's you."

Giovanni sighed, running a hand over his bandaged shoulder. "Both of your powers are…intriguing," he admitted, glancing at them both. "Your cryokinesis, Janice. And Malick…" He paused, narrowing his eyes. "Your hybrid abilities. But I'm not sure I'm the best teacher for you, Janice. On the other hand…" His gaze shifted to Malick. "I might be able to help you because of your purgatory flames. They're technically just advanced flame manipulation—a specialized branch of my ability.

"I'll teach you one thing. Just one." Giovanni's voice dropped slightly, his tone conspiratorial. "It's a secret method we use in the Red Veil to maximize our abilities' output."

Janice raised an eyebrow. "Wouldn't that get you into trouble? Sharing a technique like that? You're the head of the Red Veil, after all."

Giovanni chuckled bitterly. "Not anymore," he said, shaking his head. "My tenure as head is technically over. I failed to protect Sierra—or eliminate the threats within it. As far as they're concerned, I've already been replaced. They're just waiting to make it formal."

He folded his arms, his voice turning serious again. "You two need to master this technique as fast as possible if you're going to stand anywhere near Isaac in battle. You won't just need strength—you'll need control. Precision. And discipline."

Janice and Malick exchanged a glance, then turned to Giovanni, their voices ringing out in unison. "We're ready."

Giovanni stared at them for a moment, then sighed, muttering under his breath. "Oh boy. When did kids these days start acting like adults?"

Straightening, he took a deep breath and motioned for them to follow. "All right, let's get started. But don't say I didn't warn you—you're about to regret this."