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Chapter 121
publish date:
2026-06-16 06:01:26Chapter 121
03:01:16
03:01:15
03:01:14
The countdown continued.
Relentless.
Unforgiving.
Inside the aircraft, nobody spoke.
Vale's final words lingered in the cabin.
"You were my favorite."
Luca hated how much those words affected him.
Hated the memories they dragged back.
Hated the reminder of what he had once been.
What Vale had tried to make him become.
Across from him, Isabella looked sick.
Not physically.
Emotionally.
Because she knew exactly what those words meant.
Being Vale's favorite wasn't a reward.
It was a curse.
A terrible one.
The closer Vale held you
The more she owned you.
The more she watched you.
The more she shaped you.
Until eventually you couldn't tell where you ended and she began.
Luca knew that better than anyone.
Or so he thought.
The aircraft suddenly shook violently.
Another explosion.
Much closer this time.
Alarms screamed throughout the cabin.
Warning lights flashed red.
The pilot cursed loudly through the intercom.
And for once nobody blamed him.
Missile lock.
Again.
"Damn it!"
Hale shouted.
The radar screen lit up.
Three incoming missiles.
Not one.
Three.
The realization hit hard.
Because even the best pilot in the world couldn't dodge forever.
Not against those odds.
Not with a damaged aircraft.
The cabin tilted sharply.
Everyone grabbed onto something.
Anything.
The ocean flashed beneath them.
Dark and endless.
Far too close.
Far closer than before.
"We're losing altitude!"
Nobody liked that.
Nobody.
Then Luca moved.
Fast.
Purposefully.
Straight toward the cockpit.
Damon noticed immediately.
Of course he did.
"Luca."
No response.
"Luca."
Still nothing.
Damon followed.
Because apparently that had become a habit.
Following Luca into terrible ideas.
The cockpit door opened.
The scene inside was chaos.
Warning systems.
Flashing alerts.
Radar signals.
Incoming threats.
The pilot looked one step away from losing his mind.
Reasonable.
Completely reasonable.
Luca ignored all of it.
His attention focused entirely on the radar.
On the lead aircraft.
On Ares.
The realization settled heavily in his chest.
Because he knew something nobody else did.
Ares wasn't hunting them.
Not exactly.
Ares was hunting him.
The thought made his stomach twist.
Damon noticed the expression immediately.
"What?"
Luca remained silent.
A bad sign.
A very bad sign.
Then finally
"He knows I'm here."
Silence.
The pilot looked confused.
Damon didn't.
Because Luca sounded certain.
Too certain.
"How?"
Luca stared at the radar.
At the aircraft closing rapidly behind them.
Then spoke quietly.
"Because that's how Vale designed him."
The words carried old fear.
Ancient fear.
The kind born in childhood.
The kind that never truly leaves.
Damon frowned.
"Explain."
Luca swallowed.
Hard.
Because talking about Ares felt like talking about a nightmare.
Something unreal.
Something impossible.
Something that should have stayed buried.
"Ares wasn't trained like us."
Silence.
"He trained us."
The cockpit became completely still.
Even the pilot stopped talking.
Because suddenly
Everything made sense.
The fear.
Isabella's reaction.
Luca's expression.
All of it.
Ares wasn't another operative.
He was the original.
The prototype.
The standard everyone else was compared against.
The first success.
The first monster.
And apparently
Still alive.
The realization sent a chill through Damon.
Because very few things frightened Luca.
Almost nothing.
Yet Ares clearly did.
Then the radio crackled.
Once.
Twice.
Everyone froze.
The signal shouldn't have existed.
Not on this frequency.
Not this far from the island.
The crackling continued.
Then a voice emerged.
Deep.
Calm.
Familiar.
Far too familiar.
Luca went completely still.
No.
No.
No.
The voice spoke again.
"Luca."
Silence.
Every muscle in Luca's body locked.
Because he knew that voice.
Would recognize it anywhere.
Even after fifteen years.
Especially after fifteen years.
Ares.
The cockpit suddenly felt too small.
Too hot.
Too dangerous.
The voice continued.
"You survived."
Not surprise.
Not relief.
Observation.
Pure observation.
Like someone noting the weather.
Luca couldn't speak.
Couldn't breathe.
Because memories were surfacing.
Training rooms.
Broken bones.
Blood.
Orders.
Pain.
Ares standing above all of it.
Watching.
Teaching.
Destroying.
Then the voice laughed softly.
A terrible sound.
Because there was no humor in it.
None.
Only certainty.
"I told her you would."
Damon's jaw tightened.
He stepped toward the radio.
"Who the hell are you?"
Silence followed.
Brief.
Then:
"Damon."
The way Ares said his name made everyone's skin crawl.
Like he already knew him.
Like he'd been expecting him.
Like he'd been studying him.
Which, given Vale, was entirely possible.
The voice became thoughtful.
Almost curious.
"The famous Damon."
Nobody liked that.
Not even slightly.
Then Ares said something that made Luca's blood run cold.
"You look like your mother."
Silence exploded through the cockpit.
Damon froze.
Instantly.
The mention of Elena hit like a physical blow.
Because Ares shouldn't know her.
Shouldn't know anything about her.
Yet he clearly did.
The realization was terrifying.
Then Ares continued.
"I liked Elena."
No.
No.
Something about those words felt wrong.
Deeply wrong.
Because Elena wasn't a person to him.
Not really.
She was a memory.
A symbol.
A warning.
A failure.
The thought made Damon sick.
Before he could respond
Ares spoke again.
"She fought harder than anyone."
Silence.
Then:
"She almost killed me."
The cockpit froze.
Nobody moved.
Nobody breathed.
Because that changed everything.
Immediately.
Elena hadn't simply escaped.
She had fought.
Actually fought.
Against Ares.
Against Vale.
Against the Program itself.
The realization sent pride and grief crashing through Damon simultaneously.
His mother had been extraordinary.
He already knew that.
Hearing it from an enemy somehow made it worse.
Then Ares sighed.
Almost regretfully.
"Vale was very upset."
The casual statement felt monstrous.
Like discussing a broken machine.
Not a human life.
Not a woman.
Not a mother.
Then Ares delivered the final blow.
"She never forgave Luca."
The cabin went silent.
Dead silent.
Because suddenly
The pieces connected.
Luca's mission.
Elena.
The obsession.
The hatred.
Everything.
Vale hadn't sent Luca back because she needed Elena dead.
Not entirely.
She sent him because Elena represented failure.
Because Luca represented failure too.
And Vale hated failure.
The realization settled heavily over everyone.
Then warning alarms suddenly screamed again.
Louder.
More urgent.
The pilot swore.
"What now?!"
Hale looked at the radar.
Then immediately wished he hadn't.
"Oh no."
The phrase was becoming far too common.
"What?"
Nova demanded.
Hale pointed.
Nobody liked what they saw.
Ares' aircraft had broken formation.
Separated from the others.
Accelerating.
Straight toward them.
Not firing.
Not attacking.
Approaching.
Fast.
Very fast.
The radar estimated impact in less than three minutes.
Damon frowned.
"Why would he do that?"
Nobody answered.
Until Luca did.
Quietly.
Because he already knew.
Because Ares always preferred
doing things personally.
Always.
"He wants to board us."
The silence that followed was absolute.
Because somehow
That was worse than missiles.
Much worse.
And outside, cutting through storm clouds at impossible speed
Ares smiled.
He was finally going to meet the boy Vale had spent twenty years obsessing over.
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