The heated white chamber was cracked from wall to wall.
Thin fractures spider-webbed across reinforced panels, scorch marks staining the smooth surface, the air still trembling from the aftershock of violent movement. Sweat rolled down Harkel Voss's temple and dropped to the floor, vanishing against the heat rising from the ground beneath him.
No opponent stood across from him.
Only destruction.
He tilted his head back and took a long swing from a glass bottle filled with silver liquid. The fluid burned going down, then spread like lightning through his veins. His muscles tightened, then eased. Strength returned in a steady surge.
He exhaled slowly and jumped in place, rolling his shoulders, loosening his arms.
The door slid open behind him.
Harkel turned.
A woman in a simple maid uniform stepped inside, her posture straight despite her age. She bowed deeply.
"My apologies for disturbing you, Lord Harkel. You have a visitor."
Harkel's serious expression softened instantly.
"Ms. Row, I told you not to bow. And just call me Harkel," he said with a faint smile. "You practically raised me. Half the time you were more of a parent than either of them."
"Yes, Harkel," she corrected gently, standing upright. "You have a visitor."
"Tell them I'm busy. I'll speak to them later." He stretched his arms over his head, not turning back around.
She hesitated.
"Sir… it is an informant from the Ashvale Clan."
The name made him pause mid-stretch.
Ashvale.
He clicked his tongue under his breath.
"Of course it is," he muttered. He knew this was coming. The Voss clan's announcement about the leadership game had shaken the entire solar system. Every major clan would be circling like vultures.
"Take me to them," he said.
"They requested to see you here. I will bring them in."
Before he could respond, she was already gone.
A few minutes later, the door opened again.
Two figures stepped inside.
One was a man—dark-skinned, broad-shouldered, with wild hair spreading in all directions like a mane barely restrained. The other was a boy around Harkel's age, tall and lean, his dark hair locked neatly into dreads that fell around his face.
"Harkel," Ms. Row said calmly, "this is Nashy Ashvale and Leo Ashvale. I will leave you to your meeting."
The door closed.
Silence filled the heated chamber.
Harkel walked over and sat on a cracked section of the wall that had caved inward from one of his strikes.
"So," he said casually, wiping sweat from his neck, "there's something you want from me."
"Yes," the man replied. His voice was deep, controlled. "The entire system is buzzing about the new game your clan is setting."
There it is.
Harkel had expected nothing less. Whenever a new Voss leader was about to be chosen, alliances were forged and broken overnight. Favors traded. Power borrowed.
He leaned forward slightly and pointed at the dread-haired boy.
"Let me guess. He'll be attending the academy. And you want me to add him to my team for the games."
Nashy's eyes widened just slightly.
"Yes," he admitted.
Harkel stood up immediately.
"No."
The word echoed against the cracked walls.
"Are you certain?" Nashy pressed. "This is an opportunity. A powerful ally under your banner."
"Maybe he is powerful," Harkel replied calmly. "But I won't force someone onto my team. And I won't let someone be forced either. If someone stands beside me, it's because they choose to. Not because they're pressured. And if they don't give their all, they'll hold me back. I don't carry dead weight."
The man's expression hardened.
"He will give his all. And besides… it's either you take him, or he is killed."
The temperature in the room seemed to drop.
Harkel stopped moving.
"What did you just say?" His voice lost all warmth.
"You know what our race can do. You know what separates the Ashvale clan from the rest of you."
Harkel's shadow began to ripple behind him, bubbling like thick ink ready to erupt.
"And you know what I can do," Harkel said quietly. "Don't stand there pretending you're some superior race. You're human. You bleed the same as everyone else."
Nashy's arm began to darken. Fur crept across his skin. His fingers elongated, nails sharpening into claws.
"This boy's father attempted to overthrow our leader. He lost the ritual combat and was killed, as per tradition. The widow was executed. The boy's life is now forfeit to the clan. He has no say. Our leader decreed that if you refuse him, he dies."
The bubbling shadow behind Harkel swelled, cracking the floor beneath him.
"And what," Nashy added coldly, glancing at the rising darkness, "do you think you're about to do?"
"What I'm about to do," Harkel began—
"If you don't get out," a new voice interrupted, calm yet heavy with authority.
The door had opened again.
Shen Voss stood there.
The air shifted instantly.
Nashy's claws retracted. The fur vanished as quickly as it formed. He bowed deeply.
"Lord Shen, it is a pleasure—"
"Save it," Shen cut him off sharply. His gaze never wavered. "My son said no. I suggest you leave before you return to your clan without a head."
The threat wasn't loud.
It didn't need to be.
Nashy swallowed and straightened.
"Let's go, Leo," he said stiffly.
The boy turned to follow—
"No."
Harkel's voice stopped them.
Both men looked back.
"He stays," Harkel said firmly. "I want him on my team."
For a split second, Nashy's lips twitched upward, but the expression vanished the moment he noticed Shen's displeased glare.
Without another word, he exited.
The door shut again.
Leo stood awkwardly in the center of the cracked training chamber, unsure of where to look.
"Th-thank you," he said quietly, bowing toward Harkel.
Harkel waved him off immediately.
"No. Don't thank me. Anyone would've done the same knowing your situation."
That wasn't entirely true.
But Leo didn't need to know that.
Harkel glanced toward his father.
"I'm guessing Ms. Row told you what was happening?"
Harkel was really hoping his father said no, and that he came here on his own free. Will wanted to check on his youngest son
" yes she did. I knew something had to be up so I came Here to see if everything was all right it's a good thing that I did. You most likely would've killed that man." Shen Chuckled
Harkel Didn't like his father Response at first, but At the very end, it warmed his heart he barely got praised from his father And a boy's Best feeling Is when their old man praises them
" so you Are you sure you wanna do this?" Shen asked looking at Leo with the boy nodding
" I have nothing better to do" Leo said weakly " I have nothing at all" he looked Dead in the face like the boy didn't want this life anymore
Harkel had been hoping—truly hoping—that his father would say no. That he had come here on his own free will. Not because Shen Voss had been watching.
"Yes, she did," Shen said calmly. "I knew something had to be wrong, so I came to see if everything was all right. Good thing I did. You most likely would've killed that man."
He chuckled.
At first, Harkel didn't like the response. It sounded casual. Almost amused. But at the very end, there was something else in his father's tone—approval. Subtle. Controlled. Still… it warmed his chest.
A boy's greatest feeling was hearing his old man acknowledge him.
"So," Shen continued, shifting his gaze toward Leo, "are you sure you want to do this?"
Leo nodded slowly.
"I don't have anything better to do," he said quietly. "I don't have anything at all."
There was no anger in his voice. No rebellion. Just emptiness. His eyes looked like someone who had already lost too much.
"Well," Harkel stepped forward and patted him on the back. Leo had to glance down slightly since he was a bit taller. "Not anymore. You've got a friend now. Come on. I'll show you where you can sleep."
They walked past Shen and moved deeper into the estate. The Voss compound was massive, quiet, polished floors reflecting the soft overhead lights. After a few minutes, Harkel stopped in front of a spacious guest room and pushed the door open.
"You can put your stuff in here and rest if you want. I'm heading back to my training room."
Leo stood in the doorway.
"I don't have any stuff," he said flatly. "They gave me nothing."
Harkel paused.
"Oh."
He pulled his phone from his pocket and raised it to his ear.
"I need a regular large—actually, make it two. Jeans, pants, shorts, shirts. Give him T-shirts too. And pajamas. Why not. Bring them to the east wing guest room."
He hung up and slipped the phone away.
"You'll have clothes soon," Harkel said. "Don't worry about it."
Leo gave a small nod.
Harkel left him there and made his way back toward the training hall. As he approached, he wasn't surprised to see his father still standing inside, hands folded behind his back as if he had all the time in the world.
"I knew you'd come back," Shen said with a faint smile.
Harkel's expression brightened as he stepped in. Despite everything, he enjoyed moments like this. Talking to his father always felt strange—like speaking to a future version of himself. A version sharper. Stronger. Colder.
"I wanted to talk," Shen began.
"About what?" Harkel asked, genuinely curious.
"How have things been going?"
"They've been good," Harkel said, unable to hide the pride in his voice. "I passed all my training classes. Even physicality."
Shen's brow lifted.
"At your age? That shouldn't be possible until after your first academy term. Not even Axel managed that."
Harkel smirked.
"Well, Axel isn't me, now is he?"
For a brief moment, Shen actually laughed.
"No. I suppose he isn't." His expression then shifted, sharpening. "One more question. How is your shadow beast?"
That was the real reason he had stayed.
The Shadowmark ability—the pride of the Voss bloodline. Every descendant carried it, though its expression varied. When a Voss first evolved, they awakened one beast from a pool of one hundred. The number meant nothing in terms of rank or power; each beast possessed its own unique specialty. Some were destructive. Some defensive. Some… terrifying.
The awakening itself wasn't dramatic. It felt natural. Like the day a child realized they could whistle. Or like a newborn opening its eyes for the first time. Instinctive. Effortless.
But it required mana.
Without sufficient reserves, a second awakening was impossible.
"It's been going great," Harkel replied casually. "I awakened my second beast yesterday."
Shen went completely still.
Second?
He isn't even in his first academy term yet.
How large is his mana pool?
No… the real question is how large could it become?
"Is something the matter, Dad?" Harkel asked, noticing the silence.
Shen blinked once, masking his thoughts instantly.
"No. Nothing's wrong." His tone returned to calm authority. "Show me. Which numbers have you awakened?"
The shadows around Harkel's feet thickened, rising slowly until they shaped themselves into something solid.
It stepped out—huge and imposing, nearly eight feet tall. Its body was built like it had never known weakness, thick muscle layered over a broad chest and heavy shoulders. When it shifted its weight, the floor gave a faint creak beneath it.
Its arms hung low and powerful, fists oversized and rough at the knuckles like they'd been hardened through endless impact. Its body looked like solid shadow, faint cracks glowing softly with dim violet light underneath.
Its face was simple but unsettling—no real features, just a strong outline and two steady silver eyes that watched everything without emotion.
" n 39" Shen thought "Ironshade"
The Ironshade walked back to Harkel's side as the shadows began building up again. But instead of another bulky, shadowy creature rising from the darkness, something different happened.
The floor darkened.
A small black blob formed at Harkel's feet, spreading across the ground like spilled ink. It didn't look threatening at all—just a moving patch of shadow—but it twitched and shifted like it was alive.
"Shield," Harkel said calmly.
The blob reacted instantly. It lifted from the floor, reshaping itself midair before hardening into a smooth, round shield. The surface was dark and clean, almost glossy, and it rotated once before settling into Harkel's hand.
He picked it up and tested it, moving it up and down. It was light. Easy to handle.
Shen watched closely.
"Number Twelve… Blob," he thought at first.
But what really caught his attention wasn't the shield.
It was the fact that Ironshade was still standing beside Harkel.
Two shadow beasts.
Controlled at the same time.
Shen's eyes shifted back to his son. Harkel's breathing was steady. His posture relaxed. There was no strain on his face.
"This is a powerful combo," Shen said quietly.
He turned slightly, already preparing to leave. "You're definitely going to be a powerful man one day, son. I can't wait to see that man."
Harkel smiled widely at the praise.
But the moment Shen stepped out into the hallway, his smile disappeared.
His thoughts grew heavier.
"Harkel has an extreme amount of potential," Shen thought. "He's able to control two shadow beasts at such a young age… and he makes it look easy."
He replayed the image in his mind.
No shaking hands.
No sharp breathing.
No struggle.
"And that's exactly the problem," Shen muttered under his breath.
The Voss clan was respected, but they were also watched. Other clans paid attention to talent—especially dangerous talent. A boy who could control two shadow beasts so young wouldn't stay unnoticed for long.
"If others find out about this," Shen thought grimly, "they won't see a gifted child. They'll see a future threat."
A target.
Shen stopped walking when he reached a large portrait hanging at the end of the corridor.
It was Zarev Voss—the first of their bloodline to evolve, the originator of the Shadowmark ability.
Shen studied the face in the painting and couldn't ignore the resemblance.
There was something in Harkel's eyes that reminded him of Zarev.
"My son is going to have a target on his back because of this," Shen thought quietly. "Because of his talent. Because of his potential."
And that was what truly unsettled him.
Not that Harkel was strong.
But that the world would notice how to strong strong he could become.
And in their world, once people noticed… they acted.