Lester's Confrontation
A vast, empty chamber beneath the enemy base. The air is damp, walls glistening with condensation, and flickering lights overhead cast unsettling, shifting shadows. Every drip of water and distant creak echoes through the cavernous space, amplifying the tension.
Lester sits quietly in his wheelchair at the center of the room, his breath shallow after the intense communication with Emjay's team. His mind swirls with thoughts of his family, the choices he made, and the price he's about to pay. He reaches down, gently running his fingers over the worn photograph taped to his dashboard—his wife's warm smile and his children's laughter frozen in time. A soft, bitter chuckle escapes his lips. "This is it," he thinks. "No turning back now."
Behind him, a door creaks open. Footsteps follow—slow, deliberate, each one echoing louder than the last. Lester's jaw clenches. He doesn't need to look. He knows.
"So," Lester mutters, voice reverberating in the vast emptiness, "you finally decided to show up."
The footsteps stop just behind him. A figure emerges into the flickering light—the traitor, face obscured beneath a hood, posture relaxed yet exuding a dangerous aura. "Did you really think you could outmaneuver me, Lester? Hacking into their comms? Turning against me?" The traitor shakes his head with mock disappointment. "I expected more from my best operative."
Lester scoffs, knuckles whitening on the armrests. "No—you used me. Manipulated me. Told me what I wanted to hear." He pauses, his gaze falling to the photo again. "I wanted my family back... That's why I followed you."
"And yet here you are," the traitor replies, voice like a blade sliding free of its sheath. "Pointing that anger at me when you should blame yourself. You made those choices. I just... presented options."
Lester's laugh is hollow. "You kidnapped them. Held them hostage. That's not an option—that's blackmail."
Silence stretches between them like a taut wire. Finally, Lester pulls out a vial—a crimson liquid swirling ominously within. Holding it up, he meets the traitor's gaze. "Funny thing about desperation... it makes you reckless." Without hesitation, he plunges the needle into his arm. Instantly, his body convulses, veins illuminating with a burning red hue. His breath catches—bones creak, muscles tighten—and for the first time in years, Lester stands. Feet planted, fists clenched, eyes blazing. "Let's dance."
Battle Beneath the Earth
The traitor tilts his head, unfazed. "Always wondered if you'd use that. Let's see if it was worth it."
Then they collide.
Fists clash like thunder, sending shockwaves through the chamber. Lester, fueled by the serum, lands rapid strikes, each blow cracking the air. The traitor blocks and counters with precision—two warriors, equally matched, trading blows that rattle the earth beneath them.
"You took everything from me!" Lester roars, driving a punch toward the traitor's ribs.
The traitor deflects, pivoting to land an elbow to Lester's jaw. "I gave you purpose, Lester. Without me, you'd be rotting in a hospital bed."
Lester hurls a chunk of debris at him. The traitor dodges—but just barely. "My family was enough!"
Their battle rages—a whirlwind of fists, kicks, and shattered concrete. Sweat and blood drip from Lester's face, yet he surges forward, fueled by rage and something deeper: love and regret.
Panting, Lester halts for a heartbeat, eyes narrowing. "Let's see how you handle this..." He focuses, pushing out tendrils of his power—mental chains seeking to ensnare the traitor's mind. His vision darkens, knees trembling from the effort.
But the traitor smirks. "Really? That old trick?"
SLAM! A mental wall hits back, sending Lester reeling. His power—rejected.
"No... That's not... possible," Lester gasps.
The traitor advances, eyes cold. "I prepared for you. I know you. Every move, every tactic—you taught me to expect them."
Lester swings—misses. The traitor counters—fast, brutal.
"Why can't I control you?" Lester grits out, desperation creeping in.
"Because," the traitor's voice hardens, "I refuse to be controlled. I severed that weakness long ago. You, Lester? You're still a prisoner of your guilt."
They clash again. Lester's attacks grow wild, fueled by emotion. The traitor remains calculated, exploiting every opening.
A punch lands in Lester's ribs—bone cracks echo. He stumbles, vision swimming. The photo falls from his pocket. His gaze catches it—his wife's smiling face, his kids' joyous expressions.
A tear escapes. "Should've... got chocolate ice cream that Friday night..."
The final blow lands. Darkness swallows him whole.
Graves and Ghosts
A secluded hill beneath a cloudy sky. Wind stirs the grass around a freshly dug grave. No grand tombstone—just a simple marker: "Lester - A Man Who Tried."
The traitor stands alone, shovel planted in the dirt. His expression unreadable. He sets the photo atop the grave. "Rest easy... You fought harder than anyone expected." A long pause. "Maybe... you deserved better."
Then he turns, vanishing into the mist.
Ripple Effects
Back at Emjay's base, the air is heavy with grief and tension.
News spread, Kai slams his fist against the wall, knuckles bloody. "Damn it! He was supposed to end this!" His voice cracks, anger giving way to despair.
Yano, eyes red from crying, whispers, "He died thinking of his family... He wasn't the villain we thought."
Leon folds his arms, face grim. "And the traitor's still out there. Lester's sacrifice... did it change anything?"
Emjay's gaze darkens. "We honor him by finishing what he started. No more mistakes. No more losses."
A heavy silence follows—each of them wrestling with grief and resolve.
Quiet Conversations
In the base's medical wing, Yano quietly enters Kazuki's room. The sterile air hums with machinery. Kazuki lies restrained, eyes distant.
Yano pulls a chair close, fingers fidgeting. "Hey... Kazuki. Feels like the world's falling apart, huh? I—" Her voice catches. She exhales shakily. "We've lost so much... but you're still here. And I—I need you to fight your way back. We all do."
Kazuki's gaze flickers. Barely—but enough.
"I know you blame yourself. I do too, sometimes... but we don't get to quit. Not now. Not when so many are counting on us." Her voice softens. "Please... come back to us. To me."
Silence. Then... a faint squeeze of her hand. Hope blooms, fragile but real.
Heartbeats and Whispers
At the hospital, Kai sits beside Nami's hospital bed. Her breathing is slow, machines beeping in steady rhythm. Outside, rain patters softly against the window.
He grips her hand, knuckles white. "First my best friend... now the love of my life? How many people am I supposed to watch suffer?" His voice breaks. "You—you always yelled at me for being stubborn. Guess you rubbed off on me... because I'm not giving up on you."
His eyes sting with tears. "Remember that time you made me promise to take you out for real food? Said I was too cheap... Said you'd hold it over me forever." He chuckles, a broken sound. "When you wake up—we're going everywhere. Sushi, ramen, all of it. My treat. I'll even buy that overpriced dessert you love... Just—come back. Please..."
His head lowers onto the bed, tears soaking into the sheets. "I can't lose you too..."
Outside, the rain falls harder—gentle, mournful. Inside, hope flickers in the quiet heartbeat between them.