House Mars

“So, he’s going to be alright?” asked Mateo, both hands clasped together as he gazed into Ed’s eyes.

Ed smiled warmly. “Yeah, he’s going to make a full recovery, and more,” he said, chuckling at the end. His gaze shifted toward the squires, Wilbur and Franklin, who had just entered the room. Both young men shared relieved expressions, their earlier tension now softened.

Wilbur leaned against the doorway, arms crossed but clearly relaxed. “That’s good to hear. I mean, it could’ve been worse… a lot worse.”

Franklin nodded, running a hand through his messy curls. “Yeah, I was starting to think we’d be dealing with expulsion—or worse, blood on our hands.”

Ed chuckled softly but shook his head. “No one’s getting expelled. No one’s bleeding out, either. Let’s not get too dramatic.”

Wilbur grinned. “Can you blame us? After what happened last week, I figured we were one bad day away from a disaster.”

Before Ed could reply, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed down the corridor. Isaac and Joseph entered together, their faces flushed as if they’d just sprinted across the estate.

“Hey,” Ed called out, raising a hand in greeting. “Where’ve you two been?”

Isaac rolled his eyes and threw his bag onto a nearby bench. “Classes. You know, that thing we’re supposed to be doing while we’re not… you know, dealing with chaos.”

Joseph added, “Speaking of chaos, what’s this emergency meeting about? Did something happen?”

Ed opened his mouth to respond, but the door creaked open again, and Arthur stepped inside. His usual school uniform was damp at the cuffs, and his shaggy hair was slightly disheveled. A thick bandage covered a jagged wound along his ear, a faint streak of dried blood peeking from the edge.

Joseph’s jaw dropped. “What the hell happened to you?”

Isaac stared, equally stunned. “You look like you just got out of a medieval jousting match.”

Arthur smirked, shrugging as he stepped further into the room. “’Tis but a scratch.”

Joseph burst out laughing, slapping his thigh. “Oh, my God. I’ve been showing him Monty Python, and now he thinks he’s in on the joke.”

Arthur tilted his head, furrowing his brow. “I am unsure what jest you speak of. Though I did admire the knight’s unyielding valor, the rest seemed… peculiar.” He scratched his chin thoughtfully. “Why would anyone quarrel over a shrubbery? Surely, it holds little value.”

Isaac snorted. “Wait, you actually showed him the movie? Dude, he’s got the mind of a medieval serf—how is he supposed to get satire?”

Arthur crossed his arms, his expression growing defensive. “I assure thee, I understood much! The gallant knights sought their holy grail, yet their journey was rife with strange obstacles. It seems the humor lay in its absurdity.”

Joseph shook his head, grinning. “That’s the gist of it, buddy, but you missed like... 90% of the comedy.”

Wilbur smirked. “Sounds about right. And here I thought you were supposed to be our 'modernized knight.'”

Arthur straightened his posture. “I am no mere jester, but neither am I blind to wit. Perhaps thou shouldst give me more credit.”

“Right, right,” Isaac said, waving him off. “Anyway, has anyone seen Henryk, August, or Kieren? If this meeting’s that important, where are they?”

Ed sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “August should still be in his late class. As for Henryk...” He glanced at his watch. “You know how he is. No phone. No way to contact him unless he decides to show up.”

Joseph groaned, throwing his head back. “God, he’s so impossible sometimes. And Kieren? What about him?”

Ed hesitated, his voice dropping. “Kieren...” His words hung in the air like an unfinished chord, dragging out long enough to set everyone on edge. “Well—”

The door slammed open before he could finish. Rain poured outside, casting a silver sheen across the cobblestones. A figure stepped into the room, his silhouette framed by the flickering hall lights. It was Henryk, drenched to the bone, his dark coat dripping water onto the floor. His face was twisted in fury, his sharp features barely restrained under the weight of his emotion.

The room fell silent. No one dared speak as Henryk’s boots echoed against the tiles. He stopped in the middle of the room, his glare sweeping over the group like a storm.

“Henryk,” Ed said carefully. “You’re—”

“Save it,” Henryk growled, his voice low and venomous. He pulled off his coat and flung it onto the bench, sending droplets scattering. “Where. Is. Kieren?”

Joseph raised his hands in defense. “Whoa, calm down, man. We just got here. What the hell’s your problem?”

Henryk’s gaze snapped to Joseph, and for a moment, it looked like he might explode. But instead, he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and exhaled through his nose.

“My problem,” he said through gritted teeth, “is that I’ve been running around this entire campus looking for answers, and all I’ve gotten is silence. So, I’ll ask again: where is Kieren?”

The tension in the room was suffocating. Ed stepped forward, his tone calm but firm. “Henryk, listen. Kieren’s fine. He’s recovering. I was just about to—”

“Fine?” Henryk cut him off, his voice rising. “That’s all you have to say? After everything that’s happened?”

Arthur stepped forward, his hands at his sides but his presence commanding. “Peace, friend. This is no time for discord.”

Henryk’s eyes flicked to Arthur’s bandaged ear, then back to his face. He scoffed, shaking his head. “Figures. You lot are always so quick to brush things off. But not this time.”

Henryk’s eyes flicked to Arthur’s bandaged ear, then back to his face. He scoffed, shaking his head. “Figures. You lot are always so quick to brush things off. But not this time.”

Ed stepped forward, intercepting him. “Henryk, what’s going on? This isn’t like you.” His voice was steady but firm. “You’re usually the one keeping things together. What’s got you so wound up?”

Henryk glared at Ed, his lips tightening as if holding back a flood of words. Before he could respond, the door opened again. Axel entered, clad in training fatigues with a wooden practice sword dangling from his belt. He strode in with the confidence of someone fresh off the sparring grounds. Behind him trailed August—nicknamed Fleeboy—still wearing his school uniform. The smaller boy’s eyes darted nervously around the room as he stepped inside, adjusting the strap of his bag.

“Did we miss something?” Axel asked, raising an eyebrow as he took in the tense atmosphere.

Fleeboy fidgeted with his sleeves. “I, uh… I-it seems l-like we did,” he stammered. His voice was barely audible. “W-what’s g-going on?”

Before anyone could answer, Ty appeared in the doorway, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed. He smirked, his usual air of detached curiosity evident as he scanned the room. “Hell of a show I’ve walked into. Mind filling me in?”

Henryk looked like he was about to snap, but Ed raised a hand to stop him. “Fine. Everyone’s here now, so let me explain.” He took a deep breath, his voice carrying the weight of authority. “Kieren and the other squires were trying to pull a prank on House Venus. But it backfired. Badly. Kieren was injured—seriously injured—in the process.”

Axel frowned, his brow furrowing. “How bad are we talking?”

“Bad enough that we had to act fast,” Ed said, his gaze hardening. “As president, I made the executive decision to give Kieren the spikes.”

The room fell into a stunned silence, the words hanging heavy in the air. Arthur, who had been quiet until now, straightened up, his face darkening.

“What?” he said, his voice low and dangerous.

Ed turned to him. “Arthur, your spikes have accepted Kieren. When he wakes up, he’ll become a hybrid—a true Martian Knight.”

Pulling a folded sheet of parchment from his coat, Ed began to read aloud. The decree was written in old, formal language, its tone regal and commanding. He spoke of Kieren’s ascension, of his bravery and sacrifice, as though reciting an ancient rite of passage.

When Ed finished, the silence was deafening. Arthur’s face twisted with fury, his fists clenched at his sides.

“This is outrageous!” Arthur bellowed, his voice echoing off the walls. “Those spikes have been in my family for generations—passed from father to son, an unbroken line. I had to inherit mine from my brother after—” His voice caught, and he shook his head, glaring at Ed. “And now you’ve given them to… to some kid from a normal world! He doesn’t deserve them!”

Ed held Arthur’s gaze, his tone calm but firm. “Arthur, Kieren’s life was at stake. There wasn’t time to debate lineage or worthiness. He would have died.”

Before Arthur could retort, the door swung open again. Vinnie stepped inside, his face unreadable as he surveyed the room. He walked in slowly, his boots echoing against the floor.

“He’s right,” Vinnie said, his voice quiet but resolute. “Kieren’s life was at stake. But let’s not pretend this decision doesn’t come with consequences.”

Arthur turned to Vinnie, his anger unabated. “You’re damn right it does! Those spikes weren’t meant for him. Do you have any idea—”

Vinnie raised a hand to cut him off. “Arthur, calm down. Ed’s decision saved Kieren, sure. But it’s not just about the spikes saving his life.” He turned to Ed, his tone sharpening. “You didn’t tell him, did you? The full story?”

Ed’s eyes narrowed. “He’ll be alive. That’s all that matters.”

Vinnie’s jaw tightened, his voice rising. “Is it? You’ve completely altered the course of his life. Those spikes—those worms—aren’t just some miracle cure. They’re going to change him. He’ll be stronger, faster, something beyond human. But you think that’s a gift?”

“It is a gift,” Ed snapped, stepping toward Vinnie. “Kieren will have a second chance at life—something he wouldn’t have had otherwise.”

Vinnie’s laugh was bitter. “Oh, sure. A second chance. But at what cost? The spikes aren’t free, Ed. There’s a burden that comes with them—a price to pay. You know that as well as I do.”

“What burdens?” Axel asked, his tone skeptical. “You’re being dramatic.”

Vinnie ignored him, his focus locked on Ed. “The worms. The spikes. They’re not just tools; they’re alive. They have their own will, their own hunger. And once they take root in someone, they don’t just give—they take. Kieren might survive, but he’ll carry those burdens for the rest of his life. You think he’s ready for that?”

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Ed’s face darkened. “He didn’t have a choice.”

“And neither did you,” Vinnie shot back. “But don’t pretend this was some noble act of mercy. You saved his body, sure. But his soul? That’s another story.”

The room was silent, the weight of Vinnie’s words pressing down on everyone. Arthur’s anger simmered beneath the surface, while Axel, Ty, and Fleeboy exchanged uneasy glances. Even Henryk, still furious, seemed momentarily taken aback.

“Nothing in this world is free,” Vinnie said finally, his voice soft but cutting. “And the power of the worms… it’s not something you mess with lightly.”

The room descended into stunned silence after Vinnie’s grim proclamation. Everyone stared at him, their shock palpable, but the reactions varied like fractured pieces of a mosaic.

Ty shifted uncomfortably near the back, his face pale as he processed everything. He ran a hand through his hair, muttering under his breath, “Well… at least Kieren’s okay.” His voice was shaky, betraying his unease.

Joseph, meanwhile, stood stiffly, his arms crossed. His piercing glare bore into Ed, his jaw tightening with every passing second. He leaned toward Isaac, lowering his voice to avoid disrupting the growing cacophony. “What do you think about all this?” he asked, his tone clipped with suppressed anger.

Isaac yawned, stretching his arms overhead. “What do I think?” He shrugged casually, his disinterest almost disrespectful. “I think knights of a dead world don’t matter much.”

Joseph blinked, genuinely taken aback. “That’s it? You’re not angry?”

Another shrug. “Not really. My dad was a Knight, remember? He told me the same thing: nothing in the universe comes free. This…?” He gestured vaguely toward Ed. “This is just how things are. You survive, you adapt, or you die. It’s not worth losing sleep over.”

Joseph stared at him, incredulous. “You’re impossible,” he muttered.

Isaac grinned lazily. “That’s why you love me.” He waved over his shoulder as he turned to leave. “Let me know how it shakes out. Or don’t. I couldn’t give less of a shit.”

Joseph clenched his fists as Isaac disappeared through the doorway, muttering curses under his breath. His frustration was mirrored by the rising volume in the room as the others began shouting over each other.

Arthur’s voice cut through the chaos, sharp and furious. “This is a disgrace!” He jabbed a finger at Ed, his face red with rage. “You’ve turned my family’s legacy into some kind of… experiment! Those spikes were meant for true Martian Knights, not some reckless kid from nowhere!”

Axel stepped forward, his expression grim and resolute. “Arthur’s right,” he said firmly. “Ed, if Feudal Mars still stood, this decision would’ve destroyed you. They’d have stripped your family’s honors, dragged you through the streets, and probably lynched you naked for disrespecting the Order. And honestly? They’d have been justified.”

This statement caused a ripple of shock through the room. Henryk, standing to the side, visibly tensed, his hands curling into fists.

“You’re saying Kieren should’ve just died?” Mateo’s voice was incredulous, his anger flaring. “You’d let him suffer or die for the sake of some outdated code?”

Axel’s gaze was cold and unwavering. “Better a dead squire than a corrupted Knight. That’s how Mars worked. That’s how it should still work.”

Henryk stepped forward, his voice cutting through the rising tension like a blade. “That’s sick,” he spat. “You’d rather uphold some ancient tradition than save someone’s life? What kind of Knight does that make you?”

Axel turned to face him fully, towering over Henryk. His spikes glinted faintly under the light, a physical manifestation of his superior status and strength. “What kind of Knight?” Axel repeated, his voice dripping with disdain. “A real one. Not someone pretending to understand what it means to bear the weight of Mars.”

Henryk’s jaw tightened, and he stepped closer, refusing to back down despite the clear physical difference between them. “Pretending?” His voice was low and venomous. “I don’t have to pretend to know what’s right. You’re not a Knight, Axel. You’re just a bully hiding behind some broken code.”

Axel’s lips curled into a sneer. “Careful, Henryk. You’re standing on dangerous ground.”

“And you’re standing on bullshit,” Henryk shot back, his voice rising. “You talk about honor and tradition, but all I see is a coward too scared to question the past.”

The room went silent as the two squared off, the tension thick enough to cut. Axel loomed over Henryk, his hands twitching as if itching to strike. “You’ve got a lot of nerve,” Axel said coldly. “But nerve won’t save you when you cross the line.”

Henryk’s gaze didn’t waver. “I don’t need saving, Axel. And I sure as hell don’t need your approval.”

The silence was broken by Arthur, who scoffed loudly. “Enough of this posturing. The fact remains, Ed made a decision that goes against everything we stand for. He should’ve let Kieren—”

“Shut up!” Henryk roared, startling everyone. His voice cracked with raw emotion. “All of you, shut up! You think this is about honor? About Mars? It’s not. This is about a kid who almost died because we’re too busy clinging to a world that doesn’t exist anymore.”

He turned, his glare sweeping the room. “I’m done with all of this. The false rape allegation. The Siege of Oceana. The endless lies and secrecy. I’ve had enough. I want to go home. I want to see my mom.” His voice wavered, but his gaze remained fierce. “She’s already buried both my fathers. She doesn’t need to bury her only son, too.”

The room fell into stunned silence, even Axel momentarily taken aback.

Henryk pointed at Ed, his voice steady now. “You let me into your House, Ed. You gave me a place here. And this is what I get? Lies, manipulation, and half-truths?”

Ed opened his mouth, but Henryk wasn’t done. “I had a long talk with Adaline,” he said, his tone cutting. “She told me some interesting things about Martian history. And then I did some research of my own.”

Arthur frowned, his curiosity piqued. “What are you talking about?”

Henryk smirked, his gaze shifting back to Ed. “You’d be amazed at what you can find on Wikipedia,” he said, his voice dripping with mockery. “Especially about the Rubicon Tapes.”

Ed’s face darkened, a flicker of fear flashing in his eyes.

Henryk stepped closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “So tell me, Ed. Are they true?”

The room fell deathly silent as Henryk’s words hung in the air, heavy and unrelenting. Ed didn’t respond immediately, his jaw tightening as his gaze locked onto Henryk’s. The tension between them was electric, but it was Mateo who broke the silence.

“The Rubicon Tapes?” Mateo asked, his voice hesitant and uncertain. He glanced around the room, searching for answers. “What’s he talking about? What are the Rubicon Tapes?”

Franklin, standing beside him, nodded in confusion. “Yeah, I’ve never heard of them. Are they some kind of historical record or something?”

The Sons of Mars—Arthur, Axel, Vinnie—shifted uncomfortably. Their silence spoke volumes, their gazes dropping to the floor as shame pooled in the room like an oppressive fog.

Henryk scoffed, his lip curling in disdain. “Of course they won’t say a damn thing,” he snapped, glaring at the Sons of Mars. “Mute shame—typical.”

“Henryk,” Mateo started, his voice calm but probing, “what’s on these tapes? What’s the big deal?”

“You want to know?” Henryk turned to Mateo, his eyes ablaze with righteous fury. “Fine. Let me educate you.”

He began pacing the room, his voice rising with every word. “The Rubicon Tapes are a series of recordings made by General James Rubicon of Saturn—ten tapes in total—documenting his time stationed alongside a Martian Knight Order during the so-called ‘pacification and cleansing’ of a system meant for colonization.”

Arthur frowned, visibly confused. “Pacification? Cleansing? What is this nonsense?”

Joseph, standing nearby, leaned toward Arthur and whispered, “It’s old Earth internet stuff—records, videos, blogs. Think of it as a digital library. Henryk’s talking about some historical recordings they probably archived there.”

Arthur’s confusion deepened, but he remained silent as Henryk continued.

“Those tapes,” Henryk said, his tone bitter, “were meant to document Martian culture—this secretive, self-righteous society. But they revealed a lot more than just traditions and rituals.”

Henryk stopped pacing, his gaze boring into the Sons of Mars. “You’ve heard of the Battle Maiden Policy, right?”

Wilbur raised a hand cautiously. “I… I don’t think any of us know what that is. What’s a Battle Maiden?”

Vinnie sighed, stepping forward reluctantly. “Battle Maidens were female warriors. women couldn’t bear the spikes, so they joined Knight Orders in other ways—either as healers or fighters. Reverent, skilled, and loyal.”

Franklin raised an eyebrow. “Okay, but why is that a big deal?”

Henryk’s expression darkened. “Because, Franklin, as noble as that might sound, General Rubicon found something far uglier beneath the surface. A lot of those girls—those so-called Battle Maidens—weren’t even adults. They were kids. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Fighting alongside grown men.”

Mateo’s face twisted in disbelief. “Wait, what?”

“There were older ones,” Henryk continued, his voice sharp and relentless, “even some grandmothers who earned their place on the battlefield. But that wasn’t what disturbed General Rubicon. No, what shook him to his core was what came next.”

The room seemed to freeze as Henryk turned back to Ed, his voice dropping to a deadly calm. “One of his tapes captured a confession—a Battle Maiden admitting that her so-called Knight Lord, the man she was supposed to protect with her life, had been sexually assaulting her.”

Gasps rippled through the room. Even the Sons of Mars shifted uncomfortably, their shame deepening.

“And it wasn’t just one case,” Henryk spat. “Rubicon’s research revealed it was widespread. A disgusting, systemic abuse of power buried beneath all that talk of honor and loyalty. Martian culture, so proud and mighty, was rotten to its core.”

Franklin took a step back, his face pale. “That can’t be true…”

“It’s true,” Henryk snapped. “Adaline confirmed it. And do you know what happened next? Those tapes caused such an uproar that even the Emperor himself had to step in. He tightened his grip on House Mars, trying to rein them in. But it was too late. The cracks had already started to show. The Fall of Mars began there—with the truth coming to light.”

Henryk’s voice grew louder, angrier. “And now here we are, centuries later, and I’m supposed to stand here and respect this? Respect you?” He jabbed a finger toward the Sons of Mars, his fury boiling over. “This school hums with whispers about the rapist House of Mars, about the atrocities your ancestors committed. And I’m supposed to wear this?” He grabbed the red-printed sleeve on his academy jacket, ripping it off with a flourish. “This symbol? This stain?”

He threw the sleeve onto the floor, followed by the entire jacket. “I’m done,” he said coldly, his voice shaking with emotion. “I’m done with this House. Done with this school. Done with you.”

Ed finally found his voice, stepping forward. “Henryk, listen—”

Ed finally found his voice, stepping forward. “Henryk, listen—”

“Don’t!” Mateo’s voice cut through the tension, sharp and filled with venom. “Don’t even try, Ed!”

All eyes turned to Mateo, who was visibly trembling with rage, his—her—voice quivering as the words poured out. “This… this is disgusting! All of it! You mean to tell me that this ‘noble’ House of Mars, with all its honor and pomp, allowed something this vile to happen? And you didn’t think it was important enough to tell us?!”

“Mateo, please,” Ed began, but Mateo wasn’t finished.

“Don’t ‘please’ me, Ed!” she roared. “How long have you known about this? How long have we all been walking around with this filthy red emblem on our sleeves, thinking it stood for something good?”

“Mateo—” Franklin started, but Mateo wheeled on him.

“And you!” she yelled, pointing a shaking finger. “You’re just going to stand there and say nothing? Do you even care? Or are you just stunned into silence like the rest of these fools?”

Franklin stepped back, his face pale. “I—I don’t even know what to say…”

Wilbur crossed his arms, his expression grim. “Me neither. This… this is insane. Is it true, Ed?”

Ed held up a hand, trying to regain control of the spiraling conversation. “Listen to me. The moment the King of Mars found out about this—when the tapes came to light—he decreed that the practice stop. Immediately. The Kings of Mars didn’t know how widespread the problem was—”

Henryk scoffed, his face twisted with disgust. “And you think that makes it better? You think that absolves them?”

Ed’s voice faltered. “Henryk, they tried to make things right. They—”

“They tried to fix it after centuries of abuse!” Henryk shot back, his voice shaking with fury. “That doesn’t erase what happened. It doesn’t bring justice to those girls.”

Ed’s shoulders sagged, realizing he was speaking to a brick wall. Henryk’s mind was made up, and no amount of rationalization would change it.

Henryk’s voice grew cold. “You talk about making things right. About building a better future. But how am I supposed to trust you with that? How am I supposed to believe that you’ll raise your sisters as queens and barons when your culture, your people, conducted themselves like this?”

Ed opened his mouth to respond, but Henryk turned toward the door, his steps deliberate, his body stiff with resolve.

Just as his hand reached for the doorknob, Vinnie’s voice rang out. “Henryk, wait.”

Henryk froze but didn’t turn around. “What could you possibly say that would make me stay?”

Vinnie stepped forward, ignoring the incredulous look Axel shot him. “You want to know the truth?” Vinnie said, his voice calm but firm. “Fine. I’ll tell you everything.”

Axel took a step forward, his spikes glinting in the dim light. “Vinnie, don’t.”

“Shut up, Axel,” Vinnie snapped, not even looking at him. “We can’t afford to lose someone like Henryk. Not over this. Not over something we can explain.”

Axel growled low in his throat but stayed silent, his jaw clenched.

Vinnie turned back to Henryk, his tone softening. “Look, a lot of Martian culture is ugly. I’m not going to deny that. But you have to understand—we’re the champions of the light. If not us, then who? If we don’t stand against the horrors of the universe, then no one will.”

Henryk turned slowly, his face hard and unreadable. “You want to talk about horrors? Fine. Tell me about the spikes.”

Vinnie nodded, his expression grim. “The spikes of Mars… they’re step two of a process. It starts with a Martian worm. The worm gestates, and once it’s ready, it needs a host. That’s where the spikes come in.”

He gestured toward his own back, his voice dropping lower. “The worm’s teeth—its spikes—are implanted into the base of the host’s spine. The temperature has to be regulated. Timing is critical. If the host carries the worm for longer than twelve hours, they’ll become a slave to it. Their mind won’t be their own anymore.”

Wilbur flinched. “Jesus…”

“The severance process,” Vinnie continued, “kills the worm. Knives and cauterization are used to fuse the spikes with the host’s nervous system. From that point on, the host is no longer fully human. They’re taller, stronger, faster. Their senses become sharper. The world around them changes.”

Mateo crossed her arms, her face pale but defiant. “And what’s the catch?”

Vinnie’s gaze was steady. “You can never go back. Once the spikes are in, you lose your humanity. Forever.”

Henryk stared at him, his expression unreadable. “And Kieren?”

“Kieren didn’t have a choice,” Vinnie said bluntly. “But you do. So what are you going to do, Henryk? What’s your choice?”

Henryk’s lips parted as if to speak, but before he could answer, a sharp, shrill sound broke the silence.

It was a phone ringing. Then another. And another. The entire room seemed to come alive with the cacophony of ringing phones, each one demanding attention.

Ed’s head snapped toward the sound, his expression immediately shifting from frustration to concern. “What the hell…?”

The tension in the room shifted, the argument momentarily forgotten as everyone exchanged uneasy glances. Whatever this was, it wasn’t good.