Chapter 12:Calm before Strom
The faint scent of antiseptic still lingered in the lab air. Aven, now dressed in a fresh black suit provided by his aunt, looked composed — sharper, even—his aura more refined, but heavier somehow.
In his coat pocket rested the blue serum, silently pulsing with dormant potential. He had yet to decide when and how to give it to Robert. Timing was everything.
The sealed doors of the inner lab hissed open.
Aven stepped out.
He moved slowly, but with purpose—his gait no longer the quiet step of a young noble. Now, it carried the weight of something older… colder… more commanding. Even the air around him seemed to shimmer subtly, as if reality itself bent in his presence.
Malira Drax, Robert Kaess, and Kaley Liyer turned toward the doorway as one.
And then they froze.
Gone was the youthful heir they remembered—a boy with sharp eyes and quiet anger. Standing in his place was someone else.
Someone… dangerous.
---
Aven's Appearance: Transformed
His hair, slightly longer now, fell across his forehead in wild strands, darker than before — as if shadow had bled into every root.
His skin glowed with an unnatural clarity, a healthy pale-silver hue that shimmered subtly under the white lab lights — refined, radiant, but no longer boyish.
Most striking were his eyes.
Once amber with curiosity, now they burned with a deep crimson-black glow, like molten obsidian beneath ice. When he blinked, a faint ripple of pressure echoed in the room — his Core reacting instinctively to emotion.
A faint black aura curled around him like smoke. It wasn't visible at first glance, but it could be felt. A pressure. A gravity. Like the room had become smaller, heavier, more serious.
His presence alone silenced everything.
---
Malira's (Aunty)
Malira's lips parted slightly in shock.
Her sharp scientist's mind tried to rationalize it. Analyze it. But the numbers didn't add up.
"...Aven?" she asked hesitantly, as if unsure this was still her nephew.
He turned to her slowly, his eyes locking with hers.
"Aunty," he said calmly, voice deeper, more grounded. "I'm fine now."
But he wasn't. Not the Aven she remembered.
Her heart pounded. Her hands trembled just slightly at her side.
He went into that lab as a boy…
…and came out as something else entirely.
She couldn't speak for a moment.
"You became dame cool looking Aven
---
Robert's Reaction
Robert, who had seen countless battles, who had killed without hesitation — took an involuntary step back.
His warrior's instincts screamed in silence.
Danger.
This wasn't just power.
This was refined, awakened, predatory presence.
Robert's fists clenched at his sides. Not from fear — but from raw respect.
He bowed his head slightly.
"Sir… you've changed," he said simply.
Aven looked at him, nodding once.
"Do you still think you can protect me?" he asked, not arrogantly—but as a test.
Robert exhaled slowly.
"Yes. But now… I think you might not need me to."
---
Kaley's Inner Thoughts
Kaley Liyer, the composed and loyal assistant, stood behind them silently—but her mind was chaos.
She had seen nobles before. Strong ones. Arrogant ones. Even talented warriors.
But this?
Who… is he really?
Her heart skipped a beat as he turned his gaze briefly toward her.
Those eyes—those crimson voids—felt like they could strip away every lie she'd ever told herself.
She looked away instantly, cheeks flushing.
No… that wasn't the Aven Drax I used to greet at the lobby.
That… was something else. Something ancient. Something dangerous.
She bit her lip, eyes flickering to the side as a strange feeling welled in her chest.
And why… does that danger feel so attractive?
Malira observed him quietly for a few seconds before breaking the silence with her signature sarcastic lilt.
"If your grand little experiment is done, nephew, can we leave now? I'd rather not have your sister-in-law call me asking why the hell you're missing again."
Aven smirked, tightening the cuffs on his shirt. "Didn't expect you to be scared of anyone, Aunty."
Malira rolled her eyes. "I'm not scared. I'm smart. When women like your mother get angry, they don't yell... they destroy reputations over dinner."
Robert chuckled lightly in the background. Even Kaley, who had kept her composure until now, couldn't help but smile.
They began walking toward the elevator at the far end of the corridor. As the metal doors slid open with a soft chime, Kaley's fingers clenched slightly.
It was now or never.
Summoning every ounce of courage in her body, Kaley took a half step forward.
"Mr. Aven…" she began, voice steadier than she expected.
He turned, expression unreadable. Even Robert subtly raised an eyebrow.
"Yes, Miss Liyer?"
She bit the inside of her cheek before continuing.
"Would it… be alright if I got your number?"
The room froze.
Robert blinked.
Malira looked as if she'd just seen a bird slap a lion.
And then—
A short beat.
Then laughter.
Malira burst out laughing.
"Oh gods above, Kaley!" she exclaimed. "You do know that's Aven Drax, right? You actually asked him—"
Kaley flushed, but didn't look away. She stood firm, cheeks glowing but eyes determined.
Aven's lips curved into a rare, amused smile.
"Of course, Ms. Liyer," he said smoothly. He pulled out his Phone. tapped in a few strokes, and sent a direct connection ping to her device. "Now you have it. Feel free to contact me for… any official or unofficial matters."
Kaley nearly dropped her tablet as the notification appeared.
Marila threw an arm around her shoulder as they stepped into the lift.
"You're going to give this poor girl a heart attack, Aven."
Aven simply gave a small shrug, but inside, he was amused.
As the elevator descended, silence returned—save for the hum of descending floors.
In his pocket, the blue serum glowed faintly through the vial.
Aven's gaze turned distant.
> Soon, Robert. But not yet. I need you stronger. Ready. The world won't be kind to those who walk beside me.
The sleek black convoy cruised through the mist-veiled countryside just outside the city—five armored cars moving like silent beasts across the private Veron estate road. The lead vehicle, a custom luxury armored limousine, held only one passenger in its rear cabin: Vairen Veron, the iron-willed patriarch of the Veron family.
Known for his cold logic and decades of silent expansion, Vairen's name alone commanded both fear and reverence across region .
He didn't speak.
He didn't need to.
Outside the window, the estate passed by—rolling hills, fortified fences, and camouflaged drone towers. Finally, the car rounded a corner, revealing the heart of the hidden Veron training compound: Villa.
A sharp black coat draped over his broad frame. His silver hair was combed back without a strand out of place, his eyes glinting like cold obsidian beneath thin-rimmed glasses. Every movement was deliberate, echoing years of silent command.
As he approached the large stone courtyard, two young figures stood
The luxury convoy rolled to a smooth halt before the massive, dark-iron gates of Villa Obsidian, hidden deep within the private highlands outside Zandora City. A cold wind swept through the valley, but inside the armored vehicle, the temperature remained tense and controlled.
When the car door opened, Vairen Veron, the patriarch of the Veron family, stepped out with the calm authority of a man who rarely needed to raise his voice. Clad in an obsidian-black coat with silver trim and a cane that was more weapon than support, Vairen radiated the presence of old power—silent, suffocating, and absolute.
But before he could ascend the onyx-carved steps, two young guards—a boy and a girl barely in their twenties—stepped forward and blocked the path to the villa doors.
"Master is still in training," the boy said with a firm voice.
"You may not disturb him," the girl added, her hand hovering near the sidearm at her waist.
Vairen's sharp, grey eyes flicked over them like a blade slicing cloth. He could kill them both if he want — But he didn't.
Not because of mercy.
Because of the man inside.
That man... the one training in solitude beyond the villa doors...
He was no ordinary subordinate. He had offered his allegiance not with words, but with unmatched resources and hidden knowledge, pledging to help Vairen settle a matter long buried in blood and shame—the one involving the Drax family.
And Vairen, as much as his pride resisted it, had accepted.
Just as tension reached its peak, a deep voice echoed from inside the villa, calm yet filled with unmistakable command.
"Let him through."
The boy and girl immediately stepped aside, bowing in unison.
Vairen didn't acknowledge them. He simply resumed walking, his cane striking the marble floor with deliberate weight.
He had come to face the ghost he once chose to ignore.
And soon… the Drax family would learn what it meant to provoke a man who once ruled from the shadows.
The heavy doors closed behind Vairen Veron with a soft thud, silencing the wind outside. The air inside the villa was cool, still, and filled with a pressure that felt almost unnatural. Every step Vairen took echoed against the black-stone tiles, until he entered a high-ceiling chamber lit by a dozen suspended energy-crystals.
At the far end, a man stood shirtless, steam rising from his back as he wiped away sweat. His body was sculpted from brutal training, his aura sharp — not cultivated like a noble, but tempered like a weapon. He turned slowly, revealing silver scars crisscrossing his chest.
"So…" the man said, voice gravel-rough. "What brings you here, Vairen?"
Vairen exhaled, stepping closer with slow, weighted steps.
"It's about the Drax family. About Aven."
The man's brow rose, just slightly.
"I thought the boy was finished. Dead in that car crash."
"So did I," Vairen said darkly. "But he's alive. Walking. Talking. And... changing things. Ten days ago, we caught movement—shifts in the black market logistics chain, silence from two of our informants. But now?" He narrowed his eyes. "Nothing. No activity. Not even a whisper."
The man walked to the sideboard and poured himself a glass of dark liquor. He sipped once before speaking.
"It's the calm before the storm," he said flatly. "You know this."
Vairen's jaw tightened.
"They're planning something."
The man nodded.
"And so are we."
He turned, now fully focused.
"I'll dispatch my Displacers — they're not like your noble-trained soldiers, but they move like ghosts, strike like storms. Each of them can handle at least twenty men. Not spical warriors, but monsters in their own right."
Vairen remained silent, digesting the words.
"And your target?" he finally asked.
The man smiled faintly.
"Not Aven yet. But the Drax network. We'll hit their outer rings. Cut off their oxygen before we aim for the heart."
He stepped forward, setting the glass down without sound.
"You wanted my help, Vairen. Now, you're getting it. Just be ready."