Zen didn't remember how he made it back.
His vision blurred in and out during the long, stumbling walk through the ruined outskirts of City-73. Smoke still rose from the direction of the warehouse—the place where Rey awakened. The place where Zen failed.
By the time he reached the mafia hideout, his legs were shaking, his ribs burning with each breath.
He pushed the door open—
And collapsed face-first on the floor.
"ZEN!!"
Moro rushed forward, catching him before his head hit the ground. Two other members grabbed Zen's shoulders, dragging him inside.
Zen's eyes fluttered open just long enough to see silhouettes shouting, hands moving, bandages tightening. Someone pressed a cloth to his forehead. Someone else cursed loudly.
Everything faded into darkness.
When he woke, he was lying on the same old couch he used to sleep on as a kid.
Moro sat beside him, arms crossed, face carved with worry. The rest of the mafia crew gathered behind him—men who feared nothing, now looking at Zen with real concern.
"You're awake," Moro said, voice low. "You shouldn't have gone to Avalon, son. We told you."
Zen sat up slowly.His hair fell into his eyes.He was silent at first—but the silence wasn't calm.
It was boiling.
His hands clenched slowly into fists.
"That beam of light…" one of the men whispered, "it came from the place they took your family."
Zen didn't look up.
"I know."
Another man stepped forward hesitantly.
"Zen… what happened out there? What did they do?"
Zen's shoulders trembled.
His voice cracked.
"I was supposed to protect him."
Everyone fell silent.
Zen looked at his hands, shaking violently.
"I'm the big brother. I'm the one who fights. I'm the one who survives. I'm the one who should have… should have protected him…"
He smashed his fist into the wooden floor.The wood cracked instantly.
"WHY?! Why didn't that damn bracelet work for ME?!"
The room froze.
"That project… my father's weapon… they said it was meant for Aydren's sons. So why—WHY did it choose Rey instead of me?!"
His voice broke.
"Rey saved me. He saved my life. My little brother saved me when I was supposed to save him."
Zen felt the tears build—unfamiliar, burning, humiliating.
"I don't know what they did to him… or to my mom… I don't even know if they're alive."
His voice got smaller.
"But I'm not surrendering."
Moro kneeled beside him, gripping Zen's shoulders.
"Zen… listen to me. The boy is alive. You saw that power. That's enough. Don't destroy yourself again. Last time you rushed alone, you nearly died."
Zen shook his head.
"No, Father. I can't stop. I can't sit here. I can't breathe knowing they're out there suffering while I hide."
His voice cracked harder.
"I lost Joren today. He died trying to help me. And I—"
Zen's voice broke completely.
"I feel helpless. Hopeless. Weak. For the first time in my life… I feel powerless."
The entire room went still.
Zen Deskan—the Devil of City-73—was kneeling on the floor… crying.
None of them had ever seen him like that.
Moro's expression softened—not with pity, but with pride.
"Get up, son."
Zen didn't move.
Moro stood, turning to the entire mafia family.
"What are we?"
The men responded instantly, fists raised.
"We are brothers."
"And what do we do," Moro continued, "when Avalon takes one of our own?"
"We TAKE THEM BACK!"
Zen looked up, stunned.
One by one, the men stepped forward.
"They want war? We'll give them trouble.""We're with you, Zen.""You're not going alone this time.""We'll follow you to hell if we must!"
Moro banged his fist on the table.
"Zen Deskan," he said loudly, "you are not powerless. You are not alone. And you are NOT done. Stand up."
Zen slowly rose to his feet.His breath shook.His eyes burned red from crying.But something new sparked behind them.
Purpose.
He wiped his face.
A slow, dangerous smile crept across his lips.
"Brothers… thank you."
The room erupted in cheers.
Zen closed his eyes for a moment, whispering to himself:
"Rey… Mom… wait for me. I'm coming."
And in the heart of City-73, the Devil opened his eyes again.