Chapter 77: Revelation
The atmosphere in the laboratory was thick with tension as the results of the DNA test appeared on the screen. The scientists exchanged nervous glances, their unease palpable. One of them, trembling slightly, turned to the Kurushimi brothers and spoke in a strained voice.
“It… it’s confirmed. The DNA matches.”
Krishna’s brows furrowed. “Matches who?” he demanded, his voice sharp.
The scientist hesitated before responding, “Jason… Jason Hawks. He was the son of Kaizen Hawks.”
The room fell deathly silent. The name Kaizen Hawks carried immense weight. He was a legend, the former #1 SAAHO assassin, known for his unparalleled skill and unwavering resolve. The Kurushimi brothers had grown up hearing tales of his exploits, his name etched into the annals of assassin history.
The revelation felt like a punch to the gut. Martin’s usually stoic expression cracked, his lips trembling. Temna’s hands clenched into fists, his mind replaying the brutal encounter in vivid detail. Takashi, the youngest, leaned against the wall, his charm and cockiness replaced with a heavy silence. Krishna’s face twisted into an expression of raw disbelief.
“He had long black hair, white skin, brown eyes… a face that resembled Kaizen’s. How did none of us notice?” one of the scientists said softly, a hint of reproach in her tone. She glanced at the Kurushimi brothers, her eyes filled with an unspoken accusation.
“We didn’t notice because we didn’t care to look!” Martin snapped, his voice breaking. His sudden outburst startled everyone. “We’re killers, not heroes. We saw a monster and we slaughtered it. That’s all we ever do.”
Temna took a deep breath, his voice trembling with anger. “We’ve trained ourselves to see threats, not people. Jason wasn’t just a hybrid. He was… he was a son. Kaizen’s son.” His words hung in the air, heavy with guilt.
“We didn’t know,” Krishna said hoarsely, but the words felt hollow. “Would it have made a difference? Or would we have killed him anyway?”
The scientist who had spoken earlier stepped forward, her expression hardened. “You fought with blind fury. You never stopped to question who he might have been. You should have seen it—his hair, his features—they screamed Kaizen’s bloodline. But you didn’t want to see, did you?” Her voice was calm, yet her words were sharp as knives. “You’ve become so consumed by your mission that you forgot what it means to be human. You didn’t just kill a hybrid; you killed a son, a legacy. Do you even understand the magnitude of what you’ve done?”
Her voice rose, filled with scorn. “Kaizen Hawks wasn’t just a name; he was a symbol, a force that shaped the very foundation of this world—and you slaughtered his son as if he were nothing more than a common beast! Have you grown so blind in your bloodlust that you’ve forsaken every shred of honor and humanity? Do you think being a killer absolves you of responsibility? No! It condemns you further!”
Krishna slammed his fist against the table, the loud bang reverberating through the room. “Damn it! How could we have been so blind?” His voice cracked with frustration and self-loathing.
The scientist’s glare intensified. “Blind? No. You were willfully ignorant. You’ve killed so much, seen so much blood, that you’ve stopped seeing people. Jason Hawks wasn’t just a casualty; he was a warning that you ignored. And now, you’ll live with that failure for the rest of your lives.”
The scientists, sensing the brothers needed space, quietly left the room. The four Kurushimi brothers stood in silence, the weight of their guilt settling over them like a suffocating fog. The echoes of Jason’s final moments played in their minds, a haunting reminder of their impulsive actions.
Later, each of them retreated to their own rooms, seeking solace in isolation. Martin sat on his bed, staring blankly at the floor, his mind a whirlwind of regret. Krishna paced back and forth, his chaotic nature now a storm of conflicting emotions. Temna stared out of the window, his usually calm demeanor shaken, anger simmering beneath the surface. Takashi lay on his back, staring at the ceiling, his charm replaced by a hollow emptiness.
They all reflected on the same thought: they had killed Jason without knowing who he truly was. They had taken the life of Kaizen Hawks’ son—a life that might have been spared had they known the truth.
For the first time in a long while, the Kurushimi brothers questioned themselves, their methods, and the weight of their actions. The ghosts of their past battles had always lingered, but this time, the specter of Jason Hawks loomed larger than ever.
And in the shadows of their guilt, one question burned brighter than the rest: could they ever atone for what they had done?
The harsh words from the scientist echoed in Krishna’s mind, cutting deeper than any wound he had ever suffered. He turned to the others, his voice low but laced with venom, a venom that had been building for years. “Is this what we’ve become? Tools that only see targets and nothing else? Are we nothing but weapons, stripped of humanity?”
Martin’s jaw tightened, his face a mask of inner turmoil. His eyes, usually so calm and calculating, flickered with something dark—regret, perhaps, or a nagging doubt he could never quite shake. “We can’t rewrite the past, Krishna. We did what we thought was right at the time. That’s the life we chose—one of impossible choices. We didn’t have the luxury of asking questions, of considering what-ifs.”
“No,” Krishna shot back, his voice rising in both fury and anguish, the weight of it all pressing down on his chest like a suffocating force. “This isn’t about choices. It’s about blindness! We’ve been killing for so long, we’ve lost any sense of what’s right or wrong. We didn’t even stop to ask ourselves who Jason might have been. We didn’t care. We didn’t care! That’s not justice. That’s slaughter. We’ve let ourselves become nothing more than machines—machines who don’t even recognize the blood on our hands anymore.”
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Takashi, who had been leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, muttered under his breath, almost as if speaking to himself. “It’s too late to fix it now. What’s done is done. Jason’s gone. There’s nothing we can do.”
Temna, usually the quiet one, his demeanor as still as a tranquil lake, snapped forward suddenly, his voice sharp and filled with a rawness none of them had heard before. His usual calm was completely gone. “Is it really too late? Is that how we’ve given up? What if it’s not? What if we could’ve saved him, helped him, found another way? We didn’t even try. We just pulled the trigger like it was nothing. We didn’t ask, we didn’t listen. We’ve become the very thing we’ve sworn to destroy. No better than the monsters we hunt.” His words hit like a storm, the raw emotion behind them shaking the foundations of their guilt-ridden hearts.
The room fell silent again, the weight of Temna’s words pressing down on all of them, sinking into the cracks of their broken consciences. Krishna’s knuckles turned white as he gripped the edge of the table, the fury inside him now tempered by a deep, aching remorse.
“We owe him more than this,” Krishna finally said, his voice quieter now, but no less determined. His words were like the slow rise of a tide, steady and powerful, carrying with them the weight of an unspoken vow. “If we can’t atone for what we’ve done, then we owe it to ourselves—no, we owe it to everyone—to make sure this never happens again. No more blind killing. No more treating lives like they don’t matter, like they’re just obstacles to be cleared away without a second thought.”
Martin looked at Krishna, his gaze heavy with skepticism, but there was something else in his eyes—a flicker of something long buried. His voice was laced with bitterness, yet there was no denying the hint of doubt in his words. “And how do you propose we do that, Krishna? The world we live in... it doesn’t allow for second chances or hesitation. There’s no room for mercy or redemption in this kind of life. You know that. We’re too deep in it now.”
Krishna met Martin’s eyes, unflinching, his resolve unshaken. His heart pounded with a new kind of purpose. “Then we change the way we fight. If we don’t, if we keep going down this path, we’ll destroy everything we’ve sworn to protect—including ourselves. What’s the point of fighting for justice if we’ve lost our ability to see it?” His voice was steady, but there was an underlying tremor—an unspoken promise to himself that he wouldn’t rest until this change was made, until they had truly earned redemption or at least, the chance to find it.
Temna stepped forward, his earlier fury now channeled into something more focused, more determined. “Krishna’s right. We can’t go back, but we can make sure the future is different. If we’re going to die in this fight, then let’s at least die fighting for something worth protecting.”
Takashi straightened up, a rare, solemn expression on his face. “Fine,” he said, voice quieter than usual. “We’ll fight differently. But don’t expect it to be easy. Changing the way we do things... it’s gonna be harder than any fight we’ve ever faced.”
Krishna nodded, his heart heavy but resolute. “I know. But we don’t have a choice anymore.”
The door to the room creaked open, and in stepped the scientist. Her face was drawn with exhaustion, but there was a softness in her eyes that hadn’t been there before. She hesitated for a moment, as if unsure how to approach them after the harsh words she had thrown earlier.
Krishna’s gaze snapped to her, his expression hard as stone. But before he could speak, she raised a hand in a gesture of peace.
“I... I owe you all an apology,” she said, her voice quieter than before. “I was out of line. The anger I showed earlier was uncalled for. I... I let my frustration get the best of me. What happened with Jason... it was a mistake. And it wasn’t yours to bear alone.”
There was a long pause, the tension thick in the air. Krishna’s jaw tightened as he processed her words, but something in her tone softened the anger burning inside him. He couldn’t quite place it, but there was an earnestness in her eyes, a sincerity that hadn’t been there before.
“The truth is,” she continued, stepping further into the room, “Jason was never fully in control of his actions. He was... manipulated. His mind was hijacked by Dr. Machinist, turned into a puppet, a mind-controlled weapon. What you saw... the killing spree, the violence—it wasn’t him. He was nothing more than a tool, just like all of us, forced into something he could never have chosen.”
Krishna’s fists clenched at his sides, but it wasn’t out of anger this time. It was something else—a mixture of relief, frustration, and regret, all swirling together.
“I know what you’re thinking,” the scientist said, her voice softer now. “That you didn’t know, that you didn’t see it at the time. But you didn’t have to. You didn’t have the luxury of waiting to find out the truth, not with the way Jason was acting, not with the lives at risk. What happened to him wasn’t your fault. You had no way of knowing.”
She let out a shaky breath. “I don’t expect you to forgive me for what I said earlier. But I need you to understand that this wasn’t an accident in the way you think. You didn’t kill him because of your own mistakes. You killed him because he wasn’t Jason anymore. He was Dr. Machinist’s weapon, and you did what you had to do to stop him.”
The room was still for a long moment. Martin, who had been silent throughout the conversation, slowly turned his head toward Krishna. His eyes were tired, but there was a subtle shift in his expression—one that acknowledged the truth in the scientist’s words.
Krishna’s voice was low but steady as he spoke. “So... what are you saying? That Jason didn’t deserve to die? That we shouldn’t feel the weight of what we did?”
The scientist shook her head, her expression regretful. “No, I’m not saying that. I’m saying that what happened wasn’t your fault. That’s what I should have told you from the start. Jason... Jason was lost long before you ever crossed paths with him. He didn’t have a chance, and neither did you.”
Takashi, who had been leaning against the wall, his arms crossed, now pushed himself off it and walked toward the table. His voice was quieter than usual, as if the apology had brought something within him to the surface. “I don’t know about the rest of you... but I feel like I can finally breathe again.”
Temna, still standing near the edge of the room, finally spoke up. “I get it now. It wasn’t just us fighting the wrong fight. We were fighting something bigger, something beyond our control. We didn’t want to kill him. We were just... forced to.”
The scientist nodded, her eyes reflecting a deep sorrow. “You were all forced into a position you never should’ve been in. But now, maybe we can do something about that. Maybe we can stop Dr. Machinist from turning anyone else into a weapon. If we work together... maybe we can fix things.”
Krishna’s grip on the table loosened, the weight lifting from his shoulders just a fraction. The apology wasn’t perfect, and it didn’t erase what had happened, but it was a step. It was enough for now.
“And what about us?” Krishna asked, his voice still rough, but less filled with the raw edge it once had. “What do we do with what we’ve done?”
The scientist’s gaze softened. “You live. You move forward. You don’t let the mistakes define you. You take what you’ve learned, and you do better. Because the world doesn’t give second chances, but you can always choose to do better. And that... that’s what matters in the end.”
Krishna’s lips curled into a tight, almost imperceptible smile. It wasn’t forgiveness. It wasn’t closure. But it was the first step toward something else. Maybe, just maybe, they could start to heal.