Chapter 8: The Man Behind the Bars I

It didn't take long for the bus to arrive at the prison.

The large gates stood ahead, tall and plain, with faded letters spelling out Rodania Correctional Centre across the concrete wall.

The fencing around it was topped with barbed wire, but the front entrance looked more like an office building than a fortress.

Lucian stepped off the bus behind Scarlett and Jamie.

They crossed the small walkway and entered through the front doors, where a plain security desk stood just inside.

Two officers sat behind it, checking IDs and asking basic questions. A waiting area with metal chairs lined the wall, mostly empty except for one or two people quietly reading or scrolling their phones.

Scarlett pulled out her ID and started filling out the visitor form on one of the clipboards by the window. Jamie leaned over her shoulder, asking questions.

Lucian stood off to the side, watching.

Before they finished, he stepped closer.

"I want to see him alone," Lucian said quietly. "You guys go first."

Scarlett looked up, mouth open like she was ready to object. But she stopped herself. She studied his face for a second, then smiled, short and soft.

"Okay," she said. "We'll call you once we're done."

Lucian nodded and sat down on the nearest bench in the corner of the waiting area. His fingers rubbed against his knees as he stared ahead.

He didn't know what he was going to say when the time came.

But he knew he wanted to say it alone.

Lucian wasn't here to reconcile or share some emotional moment with his father.

That ship had sailed a long time ago.

He had grown up without him, figured things out without him, and didn't expect that to change now.

But the truth was simple, someone had come after their family. And the man who killed them had said it was because of his father.

Lucian didn't believe in coincidences. Not anymore.

He needed answers. Not memories. Not apologies. Just facts.

But there was no easy way to ask. He couldn't come out and say he'd come from the future, or that he made a deal with a devil.

There was no way to explain his knowledge without sounding insane, or worse, suspicious.

He didn't trust his father. And he didn't like admitting that.

The idea sat in his chest like a weight. He had always wanted to believe his father was good. That the system made a mistake. That prison was the punishment of an unfair world.

But now, the cracks were too obvious to ignore.

His father wasn't innocent. Maybe he never was. And maybe the rest of the family just never saw it.

Lucian exhaled slowly.

At this point, it didn't matter who his father was. He wasn't doing this for him.

He was doing it to protect the people still breathing.

And if that meant asking hard questions, digging up buried things, or even using power he didn't fully understand yet, then so be it.

Lucian stared at the floor, his hands resting on his knees, steady but tense.

He wouldn't allow it to happen again.

He wouldn't let his mother and sister die, not this time.

And he would never, under any circumstance, let Jamie die. Not when he had the chance to change things.

They didn't deserve what happened. None of them did. And he refused to let them suffer again because one man dragged them into his mess.

Lucian didn't care what his father had done or how deep he was in whatever business he ran. That was his own choice, his own dirt. But why should the rest of them be punished for it?

They had lived poor their entire lives. No one in their family walked around in branded clothes or flashy watches.

They didn't live in a mansion. They didn't drive expensive cars or go to private schools. They barely had enough to cover bills, let alone enjoy the profits of anything illegal.

If they had at least lived comfortably, if they'd indulged in the spoils of that life, maybe he could understand being targeted. Maybe. But they didn't.

They had nothing.

And still, they were the ones who died.

Lucian clenched his fists slightly.

That wasn't justice. That wasn't fair.

And he wasn't going to sit around waiting for the past to repeat itself.

Suddenly, Lucian was pulled out of his thoughts by a voice.

"Sir, are you okay?"

He looked up.

A female guard stood in front of him, watching him closely. Her tone wasn't aggressive, but she looked uneasy, like she wasn't sure if he was about to cry or start something.

Lucian blinked a few times and realized his hands had been moving nonstop. His leg bounced under the bench. His fingers tapped against his knee without rhythm. He had been fidgeting hard, completely unaware.

"I'm fine, thanks," he said, sitting up straighter and forcing his hands still.

The guard gave him a last glance, then turned and walked away. He followed her with his eyes and saw her approach another officer near the front security desk.

She leaned in slightly and spoke just low enough that she thought no one could hear.

"Watch out for the guy in the blue shirt," she whispered. "Seems nervous. Just make sure you search him properly. He might be carrying something."

The other guard nodded and looked in Lucian's direction.

Lucian's first instinct was to look around. He wanted to see if anyone else had picked that up.

No one reacted.

He sat back and let out a short breath through his nose. Then smiled faintly to himself.

'So this is what super hearing feels like.'

It didn't feel magical. It felt practical. Precise. He could hear what wasn't meant for him. That was going to be useful.

But right now, he had to dial it down.

Clearly, he was scaring the guards.

Lucian relaxed his shoulders and leaned back against the bench. He tried to control his breathing and keep his hands still.

He was nervous. That was true.

And as much as he wanted to say he hated his father… he didn't. Not fully.

There was still something there. A trace of the kid who looked up to him.

And that only made things harder.