The tension in the Grieves house was suffocating as Kimberley locked eyes with Kelly, her voice sharp.
"The Herd has been the cause of many deaths over the years, Kelly. And there's no sign of them stopping any time soon. The Dove Corporation doesn't seem to give a shit, though. So we plan on taking them down ourselves. Join us, Kelly. We could do with your help.."
Kelly's gaze flickered to the family photos on the wall. Her voice trembled. "I... I'm sorry, love. I can't. My family's safety comes first. I swore to leave that life behind. I'm not K-19 anymore. My only priority is my son."
Kimberley let out a slow breath, disappointment settling in. "I hear you. We won't force your hand. But with us, there are... benefits. Including protection for the people you care about."
Kelly's brow furrowed. "...Huh?"
Kimberley glanced at the door, already moving. "Thanks for your time, Kelly. We have our path, and it looks like you have yours."
Alko, Ren, and Udo followed, their footsteps in sync. But just as Kimberley reached for the door handle, a shaky voice stopped her.
"W-wait!" Kelly called out.
Kimberley turned, unreadable. "What did you say?"
Kelly hesitated, her mind racing. "You said... protection for loved ones?"
A smirk tugged at Kimberley's lips. "That's right. We protect our own. Every threat, every problem... we handle them. Do you understand what that really means, Kelly?"
A thick silence filled the room.
Kimberley's gaze hardened. "I know how much your son means to you. This doesn't have to be another story of loss."
She extended a hand—an offer. "Join us, Kelly. We'll make sure your son comes home safe."
A flood of memories crashed over Kelly, hitting like a wave—raw, painful, and impossible to ignore.
The sun was high in the sky, casting a golden glow on a local football pitch. Young boys, sweaty and animated, chased a ball around, their shouts of enthusiasm filling the air. One boy, in particular, was nimble, his feet dancing around the ball, eyes searching the field for an opening. Kenny, all of nine years old, shouted eagerly, "Over here!"
The ball sailed towards him, and with finesse beyond his years, Kenny controlled it, dancing past two defenders. Approaching the goal, he easily sidestepped the goalkeeper and calmly passed the ball into the net. The field erupted in cheers, and his teammates swarmed him, celebrating the beautiful play.
On the sidelines, the spectators clapped and cheered, but two figures stood out. A younger Kelly, eyes bright with pride, stood beside a bearded man in casual attire – Wayne Grieves. They watched the jubilant boys with smiles on their faces.
"He's really growing up to be a top player," Kelly remarked.
Wayne chuckled, a twinkle in his eye. "Just like his old man."
Kelly playfully nudged him. "He's better than you were at that age."
"Oh, do one," Wayne said with mock offence, earning a light laugh from Kelly.
The laughter faded as Wayne's expression turned sombre. "It's a shame I might not be around to see it," he murmured.
A cloud passed over Kelly's face, the weight of their reality settling in. The playfulness from just moments ago vanished. "Why do you have to do this, Wayne? Why can't you stay safe with us?"
Wayne looked at her, his resolve evident. "We've been over this, Kelly. I'm a Dove host. It's my duty to protect our community. Even if that means laying down my life."
She wanted to argue, to scream, to cry. But words failed her.
"Just promise me one thing," Wayne said softly. "Guide Kenny, whatever path he chooses. Stand by him. Support him."
Back in the present, Kelly's eyes shone with unshed tears, the weight of Wayne's words heavy in her heart. She reached out and took Kimberley's outstretched hand.
"Fine," she whispered, sealing her decision.
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A theme park resonated with screams of terror as panicked crowds desperately fled from the flying humanoid monsters with massive wings and razor-sharp claws, known as Vidia. Chaos reigned as the vidia swooped through the air, attacking people on roller coasters, tea-cup rides, and even the towering Ferris wheel.
In the midst of the mayhem, a father sprinted with urgency, his grip firm on his son's hand. The young boy stumbled and fell to the ground.
"Dad! Help!" he cried out.
The father came to an abrupt halt and rushed to his son's side, concern etched across his face. As he hoisted his child off the ground, his eyes widened in terror at the sight of three vidia creatures descending upon them from above.
"Shit!" he exclaimed, panic gripping his voice.
The monstrous creatures closed in, and the father's fear escalated into a string of frantic curses.
Meanwhile, amidst the chaos, a man raised his hands with a sense of purpose.
"Kalo: Elsa's Chain."
A long, golden necklace chain materialized in his grasp.
With the vidia mere milliseconds away from their intended victims, the man swung the golden chain in a single, fluid motion. The chain cleaved through the air, expertly slicing the heads off each vidia with deadly precision.
The father looked to his side, his astonishment evident. Before him stood none other than James Barclay.
"Captain Barclay! Th-thank you!" the father stammered in gratitude.
Barclay's stern expression remained unyielding as he issued a directive.
"Get out of here, before you get hurt," he commanded.
The father wasted no time, scooping up his son and fleeing the scene as fast as their legs would carry them. Captain Barclay observed their retreat with a mix of disdain and determination.
"You weaklings," he muttered under his breath.
In a swift turn of events, two more vidia creatures came hurtling toward Barclay from behind. But a blur of movement intercepted them, as a figure dashed into action.
"Kalo: Artful Claws."
In a breathtaking display of agility and precision, the female figure leapt into the air with grace, her sharp, intricately designed nails glinting in the sunlight. With a swift strike, she cleaved through both vidia creatures, sending them tumbling to the ground.
Stella Price emerged as the savior, a mesmerizing presence with her captivating eyes accentuated by expertly applied makeup. Confidence and allure radiated from her every move.
"Stay focused, Captain," Stella advised, her tone assertive.
Barclay's response was laced with irritation. "I don't need you to tell me that."
Undeterred, the remaining vidia creatures redirected their attention toward Barclay and Stella, charging at them with lethal intent.
But just as the situation seemed dire, a new player entered the scene.
"Kalo: Mist of Glamour."
A wave of perfumed mist swept through the area, obscuring vision and causing Barclay and Stella to cough and splutter.
Stella rolled her eyes in exasperation. "This guy..."
As the mist gradually dissipated, the scene revealed a new figure: Calvin Anderson, a striking young man with a well-groomed beard and a clean fade haircut.
At the heart of the chaos, Stella's exasperated voice broke through.
"Give us a warning, will ya?" she said, glaring at Calvin.
Calvin responded with a cocky grin, his gaze unwavering. "My bad." He pointed toward the disoriented vidia. "The perfume has dulled their senses, by the way, take that as a token of apology."
From the perspective of the vidia, the world had become a dizzying blur. Their targets, once so clear, were now hazy silhouettes, their movements obscured by the swirling mist. The intoxicating scent thrown at them by Calvin had effectively blurred their predatory vision.
Captain Barclay grunted, clearly unimpressed. "That wasn't necessary."
"You're welcome," Calvin shot back.
Without another word, Stella and Captain Barclay dashed in opposite directions, springing into action. The park became an arena as the two engaged the vidia with unmatched vigour.
Stella gracefully danced among the creatures, her fluid movements disguising the lethal strikes of her artful claws. With each flash of her hand, a vidia met its end.
Nearby, Captain Barclay, chain gleaming in the sun, lashed out with precision, the chain arcing and whipping around him like an extension of his own body. His strikes were methodical, calculated — every move leaving a trail of fallen vidia.
Stella found herself surrounded by an ever-tightening circle of the winged monsters. Unperturbed, she held out her hands, and with a fierce determination, her nails shot out like bullets, piercing through the oncoming onslaught. As quickly as they were fired, they grew back, ready for another round.
Across the way, Captain Barclay's voice echoed with power. "Vibration Multiplication."
His single chain began to shimmer and multiply, creating duplicates that he expertly wielded, ensnaring vidia and using them as weapons against their brethren.
The frenzied skirmish continued until, finally, a silence settled over the park. Amongst the sea of defeated vidia, Captain Barclay and Stella stood, both drenched in a grisly mix of blood and sweat.
Stella, ever the diva, looked down at her blood-soaked nails with a grimace. "Eww, I got blood in my nails!"
Calvin gestured to her entire blood-covered form. "Stella, it's literally all over you."
In the midst of their banter, a chime sounded in Captain Barclay's ear. He tapped the device nestled there. "Radia," he said, his voice laced with anticipation.
Within a bright and vibrant control room, Radia Lynch lounged with a nonchalant air. Her fiery red hair contrasted starkly with the cool glow of the multiple monitors around her. Drawing a lollipop from her mouth, she greeted with an almost playful tone, "Hey Captaiiin..."
Outside the theme park, Captain Barclay responded simply, "Uh huh..." The implication clear — what now?
In the heart of the buzzing control room, Radia Lynch sat surrounded by banks of glowing monitors displaying a myriad of data. The soft illumination played off her features as she twirled a strand of her hair, her voice dripping with mischief.
"You looked pretty sharp out there. That's my captain," she remarked, a teasing smile curling her lips.
Back at the theme park, amidst the aftermath of the battle, Captain Barclay let out a heavy sigh. His face showing a mix of exasperation and amusement.
"What do you want, Radia?"
Her voice filtered through his earbud, maintaining its playful tone. "Nothing, just wanted to hear your voice. Oh, and I guess Sir Holland called too..."
His attention sharpened immediately. "Sir Holland? What did he say?"
Sounding rather uninterested and switching to a matter-of-fact tone, Radia responded, "He wants to see you. Something to do with a mission in Watford or whatever."
"Watford? Interesting..." Captain Barclay mused aloud. "Alright, tell him I'll be there right away."
Radia's voice returned, this time sounding a tad mischievous, "Okay. Anyway, you wanna hear about my d-"
With a quick tap on his earbud, Captain Barclay cut her off, hanging up the call.
The soft roar of an engine heralded the arrival of a balmoral blue Range Rover. As it drew closer, the driver's window descended smoothly to reveal Stirling Robertson. His dark hair neatly coiffed, sunglasses hiding his eyes, and a toothpick casually jutting out from the corner of his mouth.
"You guys done?" he called out, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
Captain Barclay gave a curt nod. "Stirling, just in time. Guys, let's go. Got a meeting with Sir Holland in a few."
As Stirling began to protest, the trio began piling into the car. "Wait before you hop in could you-"
But before Stirling could complete his sentence, the seats of his pristine vehicle were assaulted by the blood and gore from the aftermath of the battle.
"Oh yeah, great," he muttered sarcastically, "just get blood all over my seats. Nice."
With a sigh, Stirling revved the engine, the vehicle making its way towards the setting sun.