Apocalypse: becoming the hidden Ruler

Axel heard it—a sound like breaking glass inside his skull. Then, just like that, the soul-wrenching agony vanished.

He gasped for air, cold sweat dripping down his neck. "What the hell... just happened?"

He turned his head and saw Gabriel blinking in confusion, rubbing the remains of a now-cracked bracelet.

"Aw, shit. The bracelet my dad gave me broke!" Gabriel's face scrunched in distress. "He's totally gonna kill me when I get back..."

Something clicked in Axel's mind.

At first, he'd assumed the fat kid might be connected to someone powerful—but over time, Gabriel's lazy, clueless personality had pushed that idea aside. The guy seemed like a harmless, snack-addicted shut-in.

But now? That energy shield... that backlash... Gabriel's bracelet had just saved their lives.

That overwhelming power that attacked them—it hadn't come from some random thug. No, that was the kind of attack only one of Sin City's monsters could launch. Axel was certain of it.

And without that bracelet, they'd both be toast.

"Just tell your dad to buy you a new one," Axel muttered, forcing a smile. He was genuinely grateful to this clueless little tank of a man. Gabriel hadn't helped much on the trip, but right now, Axel owed him everything.

Gabriel looked utterly clueless. "I just know he's gonna say I don't take care of my stuff..." he sighed, rubbing the broken bracelet like it was a scraped knee. "Ah well. I'll just forget about it and act surprised when he scolds me."

Axel shook his head. Typical.

But now wasn't the time to relax. He slammed his foot down on the gas. The truck roared forward, finally breaking past the edge of Baird District.

"What the hell?!" Morris's expression shifted the moment the mental energy he projected was pierced by that strange yellow shield. For the first time in a long while, surprise crept into his voice.

"What's wrong, Mr.Morris?" Caroline asked, her brow furrowed as she stared at the monitor. The truck was still speeding away.

Morris waved her off. "Nothing. Forget it. Let them go."

With that, he turned and walked out, leaving Caroline in a swirl of confusion.

To Morris, Crowe was ultimately expendable—just a pawn. But to Caroline, Crowe meant much more.

She stared at the screen, watching the truck grow smaller as it left Sin City behind, and a flicker of resentment darkened her face.

That face... Axel's damn face.

She'd been fooled by his harmless, dumb-little-guy act. His wide-eyed innocence. His second-tier energy level. Shit.

"Little bastard," she muttered, her tone ice cold. "You better hope I never catch you again."

Outside Sin City – Whisper Syndicate Temporary Camp

"Rosaline! Stop! You're not fully healed yet!"

Wesley stormed out of the main tent, only to find his teammates blocking Rosaline's path. She stood tall, despite the pale look on her face—worn out, sure, but her eyes burned with a dangerous resolve.

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"Where do you think you're going?" Wesley asked, already dreading the answer.

"I'm bringing him back," Rosaline said flatly, eyes locked on the horizon. She made to step around the others, but Wesley moved in front of her, arms out.

"No. You go back in now, Morris is going to take it as a direct challenge. He'll kill you. And Rosaline... Axel's dead. He's gone."

"If he's dead, he still deserves to be brought back," she replied, her voice calm—but beneath it was a trembling fury. "He doesn't belong buried in that city."

Her eyes—those beautiful eyes—were now bloodshot, edged with grief and anger. Wesley felt a chill crawl down his spine.

"Rosaline..." He tried again, gentler this time. "Please. I can't let you go. I won't."

"Vince!" he called over his shoulder. "Help me out here, man!"

But instead of reason, Wesley got a shock.

Vince stepped out of the tent fully geared up for battle, calm as ever, tightening the straps on his vest.

"You too?!" Wesley looked at him, stunned.

Vince offered a small, quiet smile. "He was one of ours—Obsidian Squad. I'm going to bring him back."

The tent flap swung wide again.

Kaia and Millers appeared behind him, also geared up and ready to move.

Wesley snapped. "This is insane! You're all fucking insane! Somebody stop them!"

Jade and the others from the Grey Wolf Squad moved to block the way, forming a wall between Rosaline's team and the city. No one moved. Tension crackled in the air.

"Are you seriously going to fight me, Wesley?" Rosaline asked, voice like ice. "Right here, right now?"

Wesley didn't answer. He didn't have to. The weight in his silence was enough. The moment he stepped in their way, he knew—he was burning every bridge between them.

Still, he held firm. "You people are out of your goddamn minds," he said quietly.

That's when a deep voice cut through the tension.

"Enough. All of you."

A cloaked figure stepped out from the shadows of the camp. Everyone fell silent.

He pointed at the watch on his wrist. "Captain Xander's call."

Just that name was enough to quiet the storm—for now.

Half an hour later...

"When we were about to complete the mission, Morris's cursed eye projection descended. We were hit hard—most of us were severely injured in seconds."

"There was no way to continue, so I gave the order to retreat."

Wesley stood in front of the holoscreen, delivering the mission debrief with a clenched jaw. Obsidian Squad and the Gray Wolf members stood silently behind him, their expressions grim.

"The operation was a failure," Wesley said at last, and every head in the room lowered in unison.

Another figure stepped forward—cloaked, face shadowed—one of the intelligence handlers assigned to monitor the operation.

"All remaining candidates have been ordered to withdraw. As of this moment, four are still accounted for inside Sin City. This round of trials... cost us twenty-nine lives. Sixteen more are listed as missing."

The room sank into a deeper silence. The weight of the number pressed on everyone's chest. So many gone—for nothing.

Xander didn't react visibly. On-screen, the aging commander stood tall, his posture as straight and unyielding as ever.

"I understand," he said simply. Then the call cut out.

Wesley sighed, the heaviness settling into his bones. He knew Xander would be the one to carry the burden of the loss.

A runner came sprinting toward them from the perimeter.

"Captain Wesley! A truck's coming in—two men just got off. They say they're candidates. Should we let them through?"

Wesley's eyes lit up. "Let them in. Immediately."

Maybe—just maybe—some of the missing had made it out alive. Two more lives saved was enough to lift a little of the crushing weight from his chest.

But he couldn't let the moment distract him. Behind him, Rosaline, Vince, and the rest of Obsidian Squad were already packing their gear.

Wesley stepped in front of them. "Rosaline. Vince. I know we're not in the same squad. But I'm still the commander of this operation."

"I'm giving you an official order—do not go back into that city. If you disobey, I'll have no choice but to report you to the military court."

"I hear you loud and clear," Vince replied, not even pausing as he checked over Kaia's loadout. "Kaia, you good to move?"

"All set," she replied, locking her armor into place.

Wesley stared at them helplessly. He knew it wouldn't matter what he said—when Vince made up his mind, there was no swaying him.

"Let's move. Oh, and Wesley," Vince added without looking back, "be sure to note it down. This decision was mine."

Before Wesley could respond, a shout rang out from the entrance.

"Wait—no way! Is that you?!"

Heads turned. The moment froze.

There he stood—barely.

The man was soaked in blood, half his shirt shredded, skin smeared with oil and ash. His face was a mess of dirt, sweat, and dried blood. He looked like hell.

But somehow, he was still smiling.

"Captain," he said hoarsely, swaying on his feet, "this is Crowe. I made it. That's gotta count for something, right?"