Quint had just gotten back from school when a high-pitched shout pierced the air inside his house.
"I've told you a thousand times, Mom! I will NEVER join your fucking organization! NEVER!!"
He froze at the front door. That was Mila—his sister—her voice laced with pure, unfiltered rage.
"Watch your mouth, young lady!" their mother's voice snapped back, sharp and commanding. "You have more talent than anyone. You even saved that boy's future! Why not—"
"I helped that poor boy out of pity! That doesn't mean I'll join you and become your killing machine!"
"What are you saying?!"
"You think I don't know?!" Mila's voice cracked, trembling with fury. "You collect prodigies like trophies. You manipulate them, mold them, break them—even your own children! And for what?! To be your weapons?! To kill people?!"
"Guilty people!" their mother shot back.
"That's just your excuse!" Mila spat.
"Your father killed people too!"
"Dad never forced me to become his soldier!"
"That's because his thinking is conventional." Their mother's voice turned cold, dismissive. "He believes a soldier must fight with muscle and steel. But look at me, Mila. Your father has his war, and I have mine."
"And I have my own war!!" Mila roared.
Silence.
Then, a chuckle.
Their mother laughed.
"War?" she said, almost amused. "What war do you think—"
"My war is to fight YOU and your fucking organization!"
Their mother's amusement vanished.
"What do you—Hey! Mila! Come back here!"
A second later, Quint saw his sister storming out of the kitchen, her steps furious, unwavering. She didn't even glance at him as she made her way up the stairs.
Their mother's voice chased after her like a ghost.
"Come back here at once, or I will break ties with you!"
"I'll be glad to accept that!!" Mila's voice thundered from upstairs.
Quint sprinted up the stairs. His heart pounded. Something felt irreversible.
When he reached Mila's room, he found her frantically throwing clothes into a travel bag.
"Sis… what's going on?" His voice wavered in confusion.
"I have to get out of this family!" Mila's voice was wild, raw, trembling. Then she turned to face him.
Quint froze.
Her face was soaked in tears.
"You have to leave too, Bro," she whispered. Her hands clenched around a sweater, knuckles white. "This family… this family is SICK."
"Sis… calm down. Please… just calm down."
Quint stepped forward and pulled her into his arms. She was shaking.
"I mean it, Bro," she whispered, her breath hot against his shoulder. "Mom is a devil."
"She's not," Quint murmured, rubbing her back. "You got her wrong."
Mila pushed him away.
"Wrong?!"
"Yes… the team was supposed to act without leaving a witness, but my teammate screwed up."
"WHAT?!?!" Mila's entire body stiffened.
"The mind-bending didn't work. I had to finish the job," Quint said flatly. "But that left the boy witnessing his mother's—"
"YOU'RE IN HER TEAM ALREADY?!?!"
Quint flinched as Mila's voice cracked the air like thunder. He quickly covered his ears.
"Ouch, Sis. Don't shout—"
"Quint… why?!" Her voice was breaking.
"Why what?" he muttered, looking away.
"You said you wanted to be a soldier!"
"I am a soldier!"
"A soldier like Dad! A real soldier! One who fights in a real war!"
"I fight in a war too," Quint shot back. His eyes burned. "A secret war. I protect this country—the world—from evil people."
"You've been brainwashed."
"I have NOT!" Quint yelled.
He took a step back from her, his fists trembling.
"Soldiers like Dad kill people too!" His voice was sharp, like a blade. "They even kill innocents sometimes! What's the difference?!"
Mila's lips quivered.
"Then don't… don't be a soldier," she whispered. "Don't be any kind of soldier."
"And be what?" Quint scoffed. "A psychologist, just like you?"
Mila's face softened.
"Quint… every talent, every skill can be used for good or for evil." She stepped toward him again. This time, Quint didn't move away.
She cupped his cheeks.
"Come with me," she whispered. "Let's figure out how to use your gift for something good."
For a moment—just a brief, fragile moment—Quint almost let himself believe in her words.
But then—
He tore her hands away.
"You're seeing things in black and white, Mila," he murmured. "The world is grey."
"Quint… please…"
"I want to be a soldier," he whispered. "I worked hard for it."
"It's not too late," Mila pleaded.
Quint shook his head. "No."
A single tear slipped down Mila's cheek.
She smiled sadly. "I love you, Quint."
Before he could respond, she leaned in—her lips pressed against his.
Quint froze.
Then, instinct took over. He responded with fierce passion, pulling her closer, his fingers tangling in her hair. For a moment, nothing else existed.
Then she whispered—
"Let's leave. You and I. We can be together. Lovers."
Quint's breath caught.
Her hands brushed over his cheeks, gentle, longing.
But then—
Quint halted her touch.
His fingers wrapped around her wrist. Firm. Unyielding.
"I don't want to leave, Mila," he whispered. "I can't abandon this family."
"Stay with me, Mila" he begged. "You don't have to be her soldier. She doesn't have the heart to force you. Just stay, Quint…"
"I can't," she murmured. "I won't."
Mila's breath shuddered.
She pressed her forehead against his, her body wracked with silent sobs.
Quint's vision blurred as a single, hot tear slipped down his cheek.
For the first time since his surgery—
Quint Rauss cried.
-
What's wrong?" the girl asked.
"Nothing," Quint answered shortly, then threw his sight out of the window.
"You look sad lately," the girl pursued.
"Don't mind me," Quint said without giving his sight to the girl. The girl sighed, then reluctantly left him alone and joined her other teammates, who were sitting on the sofa set in the middle of the room.
Not long after, the French door was opened. Already wearing her golden mask, Quint's mother walked in, followed by a little girl. She couldn't be more than fourteen years old.
"Knights, let me introduce you to your new Mind Bender," Quint's mother said, stretching her arm to the side, signaling the little girl to step ahead.
"Is she good?" The Strategist asked.
The little girl smiled politely. "I will try my best to execute your plan, Miss Strategist," she said with a thick accent. She then moved her head to the left. "Yes, I could easily read your mind, Hacker Boy." Then moved it to the Hacker across. "You doubt my skill, Fighter Man?"
The Fighter suddenly stood and took off his clothes.
"Nice abs, Sir," the little girl said, then laughed. "It's enough. You don't have to strip down," she continued, then flicked her fingers.
The Fighter blinked his eyes. "Shit!!" he shouted in surprise, realizing he was topless. "What did you do to me?!" he said in anger, then quickly grabbed his clothes and put them on again.
All of the team were stunned. Even Quint shifted his gaze to the little girl. The girl looked at him, but a second later, she narrowed her eyes.
"You are interesting," she said.
"What do you mean?" Quint asked.
The little girl turned her gaze toward Quint's mother instead. She then nodded. "Nothing," she said to Quint, then nonchalantly sat on one of the empty armchairs.
"Now all the knights are here. Let's start the bestowal ceremony," Quint's mother then said. The teenagers looked at each other, but there was excitement in their eyes. Quint's mother smiled a little and opened her two hands.
"Shall we?"
-
The seven teenagers were led into a grand hall, where about twenty masked figures had already gathered. Among them was Quint's master. As they entered, they were directed to sit in the front row while Quint's mother stepped onto the podium.
"Ladies and gentlemen," she spoke into the microphone. The murmurs in the room quieted as all eyes turned to her. A small smile touched her lips.
"Tonight, we forge a new generation of Royal Knights for our organization—especially for our chapter." She gestured toward the seven seated teenagers.
"These exceptional prodigies will lead the world toward a better future for humankind."
Applause rippled through the room.
"Now, let us bear witness as they vow their loyalty to the organization."
Another round of applause followed. Then, from behind a curtained door, several men entered, carrying a shallow but wide glass box. They placed it in the center of the room.
A man in a long robe rose from his seat and stepped toward the podium. He had a long beard and wore a conical hat, exuding an air of solemn authority.
"Prodigies, stand," he commanded. "Place your hand over your heart and repeat after me."
The teenagers obeyed.
"I... then say your name..."
One by one, they spoke their names.
"I swear to God, Jesus, Allah, Yahweh, Buddha, and all the Almighty above..."
"That from this day forward..."
"I will be loyal to, and only to, the organization."
"I will give my very best to fulfill my duty."
"And share no secrets of the organization with outsiders."
"Any act of disloyalty will bring me a terrible death."
When the vows were spoken, the 'priest' moved toward them. With careful precision, he slit their index fingers, one by one, allowing a drop of blood to fall onto a sandy surface. Once the ritual was complete, he motioned them toward the glass box.
It was only now that they saw what lay inside.
Dozens of creatures.
Venomous creatures.
The Strategist and Mind Bender instinctively stepped back. The others tensed, their eyes narrowing at the sight.
"These are soul-binding creatures," the 'priest' announced. "Place your hand inside the box and let them choose you."
A heavy silence hung over them.
"How exactly do they choose us?" Quint asked.
"By sharing their venom with you," the 'priest' replied, his voice calm.
"Won't that kill us?" The Bomber asked, wary.
"No. The creatures will choose only those who can withstand their venom. You may feel the effects, but I assure you, it will not be fatal."
Still, no one moved.
Then, after a few tense moments, the girl who was always with Quint stepped forward.
She hesitated briefly, then slowly reached into the box.
A snake lunged, sinking its fangs into her skin. She winced but didn't scream.
"The Poison Master is Russell's Viper," the 'priest' declared.
Next, the brown-skinned teenager approached.
"The Bomber is Bruno's Frog."
The little girl and the blond teenage boy stepped up together.
"The Mind Bender is Black Widow Spider. The Melee Fighter is Gila Lizard."
The boy with thick glasses swallowed hard, then hesitantly extended his trembling hand.
"The Hacker is Fire Salamander."
Reluctantly, the girl with curly hair followed suit.
"The Strategist is King Cobra."
Finally, Quint glanced at his master—the one person he trusted more than anyone.
The man gave him a slight, approving nod.
Taking a slow breath, Quint stepped forward and placed his hand inside the box.
Instantly, several creatures crawled toward him.
He clenched his jaw, turned his head away, and shut his eyes.
Then—
A sharp sting.
His body jerked. His breath hitched.
He ripped his hand back.
"The Marksman is the Deathstalker Scorpion," the 'priest' proclaimed.