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A GOD'S WAY OF JUDGEMENT
3-The Flight for Tomorrow's Victory

3-The Flight for Tomorrow's Victory

Celia's heart pounded as she ran, the weight of Ronan's unconscious body heavy in her arms. Dante was close behind, his sword drawn, his eyes scanning the darkness for any sign of movement. They had barely escaped the scene of the massacre, the sounds of that violence still ringing in their ears. Ronan was badly injured and running out of time. He had to be taken to safety.

The mansion of Gerald, Arcanveil's family doctor, was their only hope.

When Celia reached the door, she kicked it open, and they hurried inside. The familiar smell of pesticides and herbs filled the air, but there was no time for excitement. Gerald, the family physician, looked up from his work as two spray coats drenched the blood of their fallen enemies. Her eyes widened when she saw Ronan.

"Put him on the table," said Gerald, his voice heavy with urgency.

Celia and Dante moved quickly, laying Ronan on a nearby operating table, their breaths coming with faint gasps. Gerald moved to his side, his face hard with worry as he surveyed the prince.

"Does he understand?" he asked. Gerald asked, though he already knew the answer. Celia nodded solemnly, but her voice trembled as she spoke.

"Yeah… but it's not bad. The sword went through both his hearts."

Gerald's face hardened in grim determination as he approached Celia and Dante. "There is only one way to save her—a heart transplant. But not just any heart. Someone with divine blood needs a heart, his equal." His eyes squinted in pained ignorance. "He is the only father whose heart can save."

The room fell silent, Gerald's words weighing heavy on them. Celia's breath caught in her throat and she shook her head violently.

"No, that's not possible!" His voice trembled with frustration. "The sword... the sword pierced both of their hearts. His father lost his heart."

Dante, who had remained silent until then, clenched his fists. "Is there no other way? Anything?"

But Gerald's expression remained serious, his eyes full. "There's no other way. Without a proper heart, Ronan won't be alive much longer."

Frustration and helplessness flashed across Celia's eyes. "We can't ask him… he's already done so much."

"There's something else," Gerald said softly, his voice thick with determination. "I'm working on something—a way to keep him alive until a solution is found." He paused, then gestured to a team of robotic surgeons lined up next to the table. "I could make an artificial heart—that could keep him alive. But it's never been tested on anything like him."

Celia's breath hitched in her throat. "Ronan… he's immortal. The heart... doesn't stay in him?"

Gerald glared at him, his face serious. "That's what I'm trying to figure out. The only way it can work is by limiting its power. That's the only way to stop his body rejecting an artificial heart."

"What do you mean when you limit his power?" Dante asked the guy.

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Gerald didn't respond immediately. Her fingers moved over the controls, calling out the heart sculpture. "Ronan's body was built to withstand incredible forces and to survive almost anything. But that includes his ability to use it. Changing his body with limiters, limiting his power to 30%, should help stabilize the heart. But it's scary—there's no indication it will work."

"Then we have no choice," Celia said, her voice steely. "Do what you have to do."

Gerald nodded, his face with mask of concentration as he maneuvered the robotic arm. Ronan's chest was implanted with an artificial, technical heart. Gerald worked quickly, his surgical robot working perfectly to connect the heart to Ronan's blood vessels.

Celia watched, fear heavy in her heart, as Gerald placed boundaries on Ronan's body, limiting his power. Mechanical clatter filled the room as the tiny wires attached to his muscles began to touch him. Ronan's breathing slowed, his body froze—his powers were within limits.

When everything settled down, Gerald stepped back. His eyes met Celia's, a mixture of exhaustion and sadness. "He's stable now. The heart is working… but it needs to rest."

Suddenly, an explosion in the distance shook the building. Dust fell from the ceiling as the walls shook.

"They got us," Dante whispered lightly on the tip of his sword.

Celia and Dante exchanged glances and without a word, went to Ronan's mouth. The room doors opened and shadows flooded the room. People in black move fast, drawing weapons.

"They're coming," Dante said, his voice soft. "We can't keep them for long."

Celia's fingers glowed with electricity as she summoned her power. The air around him rumbled with the force of his thunder, while Dante's sword shone in the light of heaven. Together they brutally sliced shadows and threw them at the invaders.

They marched as one, swords flashing, thunder crashing with each blow. One by one the assailants fell, and bodies fell silently. No living witnesses were found.

But when the last one fell, Celia and Dante exchanged glances. They knew that the real danger lay not with these killers, but with more.

"Ronan is not safe here," Dante's heavy voice said with the weight of truth. "He must leave the kingdom of heaven. Our father… he's intent on killing her."

When the battle quieted down, Gerald, Celia, and Dante made their way to the door, taking a trap to Ronan. Dante's back arched under the weight of advanced technology, but he walked with his determination.

They reached the teleporter, but just as they stepped inside, Dante saw something behind him- a dark figure approaching.

"It's him," Dante said, his voice low and confused. "My father," he said.

Looking on in shock, Gerald turned to see the figure of Dante's father emerging from the shadows. His presence was dramatic, a dark energy radiating from within. Dante's grip on his sword tightened.

"I'll hold him back," Dante said, turning to Celia and Gerald. "Go through the door. I don't like his back."

But just when a fight seemed inevitable, a voice shouted in their ears. "This is the AI that Ronan created," said a calm, authoritative voice. "I will make a public announcement on the throne, faking Ronan's death. You must have to make Ronan look dead, Dante. You have to act like you've stopped fighting."

Dante hesitated; His sword was still raised. "But… what about Ronan?"

"This will buy us time. Stay back here, Celia and Gerald, you will both go to Earth."

The voice was unwavering, the instructions clear. Dante took one last look at his friends before turning to his father.

"Let's do this," Dante whispered.

The door opened, and the group descended into a barren, prehistoric world. Weather shook the falling earth, driving the dinosaurs to extinction in a fiery explosion. When the smoke cleared, Celia stood tall, using her mental powers to hold the tube Ronan, with Gerald at her side.

It had been done on earth.

Millions of years have passed.

Ronan was still in a coma, and Ronan's AI was in a hole in the North Pole. The base was powered by a nuclear reactor, which kept Ronan alive inside a reactor that now rested in its center. The monitors blinked as the alarms began to go off.

Gerald walked up to the control panel, his face grim. "He's excited. The artificial heart… holds up, but we have to be prepared."

Suddenly, Ronan's eyes widened, his voice a shriek of pain and confusion and fear.

"Why? Why? Why?"