CHAPTER TWENTY

"He knew..."

Zane stumbled through the halls of the underground Rebellion bunker, his breath ragged, each step heavier than the last.

The files were still in his hands—old, yellowed papers with their father's name signed at the bottom.Medical records. Secret agreements. Moonris prototypes.And a single report dated twelve years ago:

"Subject: Ren Tanaka. Mutation beyond control. Termination order approved. "That bastard.." He mumbled beneath his breath his head dazed.

The air tasted metallic.

Zane's boots echoed violently in the silence as he pushed through the doors leading outside, the cold wind of Lunaris slapping him across the face. He didn't stop. Didn't speak.

He ran.

Past the guards. Past the sleeping quarters. Through the metallic alleys of the city above.Like a wounded animal escaping the hunter, except this time—he was the one who had pulled the trigger.

"I thought you left me... I hated you for it.""And all this time... it was him."

He collapsed in the middle of the glass-paved streets, hands digging into his scalp as the tears burned his cheeks. The serum still burned in his veins, but his rage burned hotter.

"ARAGON!!"The scream was primal. A broken boy's cry swallowed by the artificial stars above.

Amara found him like that.

"Zane," she spoke softly, kneeling beside him.

He didn't flinch. "He used me."

Amara's expression didn't change, but her silence was enough.

"I thought I was getting revenge. I thought Ren abandoned me. But that bastard—Aragon—he lied. He showed me lies."

Zane's hands curled into fists, his knuckles bleeding.

"You were a child," Amara said gently. "He took everything from you. He made you a weapon."

There was a pause. A long, drawn-out breath before Zane finally looked up at her.

"What do I do now?"

She smiled, her hand brushing against his cheek. "You do what you've always done."

Zane blinked. "Which is?"

She leaned in close, her whisper laced with venom and seduction.

"Burn everything… until the truth is all that's left."

That night, Zane didn't sleep.He didn't eat.He stood before the shattered mirror in his quarters, shirtless, his chest glowing faintly blue from the serum's curse inside him.

He stared into his reflection.

And saw Ren.

Not exactly. But the same fire in the eyes. The same stubborn jawline. The same soul that refused to break.

Except now… his was fractured.

He opened his journal—the one Amara had hidden in the serum lab before death—and scribbled down a new title:

"To My Brother: I Will End This."

Not out of hatred anymore.

he blinked.

"Amara?" He softly muttered. In that moment it hit him. "That's right. I killed her. She's dead.."

The morning came with the weight of silence. Not even the machines in the lab hummed.

Zane stood in front of Aragon's office, face calm, uniform pristine—like the breakdown in the streets of Lunaris never happened.

He knocked twice.

"Come in," Aragon's voice echoed.

Zane stepped inside, eyes scanning the room—the rusted diary still sat open on the table beside a fresh batch of serum vials. Amara wasn't there. Good.

"Zane," Aragon greeted him like a proud father. "I trust the data analysis went well?"

Zane offered a faint smile. "It did. The mutation markers are stable. The Moonris strain will hold for another round of testing." "I take it you have accepted what i did was to protect you?" Aragon spoke of his twisted way of Reality but deep down Zane knew the truth.

Aragon's eyes sparkled. "Excellent. We're closer than ever. And with Jun cracking under pressure, of the serum the Fallen Liberators are fractured. Ren won't survive long without him."

Zane didn't flinch. "Right."

But inside, he was screaming.

"Ren isn't the enemy. You are.""You killed the man I once was." "I have to help Jun before its too late."

As Aragon turned away, muttering to himself about the serum's evolution, Zane slid a small data chip from his sleeve and slipped it into the console under the desk—masking the upload behind routine system diagnostics.

Just like Haruto taught him.

Later that day, Zane walked through the dim-lit corridors beneath the labs, stopping in front of a locked containment door marked "Sector K."

He keyed in a bypass code—one only Amara knew he had. The door hissed open.

Inside were stacks of corrupted serum vials, discarded prototypes, and...

a single stasis pod.

Inside lay Fae, unconscious and alive, her vitals flickering. One of the original test subjects. The same girl Ren mentioned once... the girl who was supposed to be dead.

Zane's jaw tightened.

"She's still alive… you sick bastard."

He pressed his palm to the glass."Hang on. I'll get you out of here."

That night, Zane wrote a message on a thin strip of old cloth and wrapped it in a copper bullet casing—one of Aragon's ceremonial gifts.

He addressed it with one word:

"Ren."

He handed it to a black-market runner known only as Crow, a shadowy smuggler who owed Zane a favour.

"Deliver this to the Fallen City. No questions asked."

Crow raised a brow but nodded. "Done Sir."

Back in the Rebellion compound, Zane leaned against the window of his quarters, watching Lunaris glimmer under artificial stars. His reflection stared back again—tired, bitter, and broken.

But alive.

More alive than he'd been in years.

"You wanted me to burn the world, Aragon.""You should've known better than to teach fire how to think."