The soft hum of the elevator descending was the only sound in the cramped space. Their small group stood in the center of the lift flanked by four members of their guard team. Karter had insisted they take a unit just in case. sending Davis, Franklin, Christopher, and Brian. Next to them was the arrival team that had been sent to escort them up. All in all, though the elevator was not small it felt claustrophobic.
Jonathan and Ethel stood near the front as if used to this treatment, while Mark and Sam stood behind them. Boe sat in between the four of them, panting softly. Mark was just watching the floor numbers slowly tick down when one of the men in the room began expanding his Aura. At first, Mark thought the guy couldn’t control his fluctuations yet, but as it grew into the space, he realized this was purposeful.
Jonathan did not bother to expand his own Aura. Instead choosing to turn his head a fraction of a degree and glance at the man out of the corner of his eye. Mark could only see Jonathan’s posture tense for a second, his index finger twitching, before the guy broke eye contact, and his aura retracted.
Mark could only assume the guy had been told to probe them, because as they continued their journey down no one else acted out.
When they hit the fifth-floor basement level, the door dinged and slid open to reveal a large open room dotted with support structures. The fluorescent lighting here illuminated the whole space, reflecting the dull gray of concrete. A damp moldy smell down here hinted at it once being used for storage or perhaps a parking garage from the small patches of dried oil on the ground.
The doors had barely opened, before what sounded like metal slamming against concrete assaulted their ears. Their escorts didn’t seem to mind the sound, progressing out of the lift without hesitation.
As their small group stepped onto the new floor, the sounds of metal groaning continued at an irregular pace. Mark did a once-over of the room and noted how many more guards were down here. He could not tell their levels but from the way they moved, he would guess none of them were below thirty. As they continued through the space Mark clocked what was making the awful racket. From the looks of things, someone had opened up a hole in the concrete down here. For what reason Mark couldn’t yet tell, but they had then welded a set of metal doors over the opening. The sounds were created when something slammed up against the door from the other side. Whatever or whoever was behind the thick corrugated metal sheets was persistent.
Their group kept advancing until they reached a corner with what Mark immediately recognized as an operating table. There was a patient on it.
Several more guards stood here with one very large man acting as their lead. Mark had no idea of his level, but he could tell the guy was strong. To the side, a younger man sat with his feet up reading a comic book and willfully ignoring the room.
Finally, hunched over the examination table was a man fully decked out in a rubber apron and gloves. He stood over his patient and it only took Mark a second to recognize the person on the table was a Corrupted. And, it was still ‘alive’. Someone had snapped its spine so it couldn’t move but the thing was still very much screaming hungrily. To Mark's horror, its chest cavity had been cracked open and the ‘doctor’ was rummaging around in its insides.
They stopped just before the area and Jonathan was the first to speak. His shoulders were guarded and ready.
“Hey Dad, gotta say this is one of your more gruesome power moves.”
His voice sounded almost board, but there was a hint of anger, as he stared at the man who was elbow-deep in this Corruped’s ribcage.
The man glanced back at them from behind a disposable mask. Even from here, Mark could see the resemblance between Jonathan and this man.
Pulling his hand free, Jonathan's father turned toward them.
“And, I’m disheartened you feel that way my boy, but as I’ve said before. I ain’t going to stop what I’m doing for you.”
The man pulled out a gun and shot his ‘patient’ through the skull. Handing the gun off to one of his men, he began peeling the rubber gloves off and dropping them where he stood.
“Lucky for you I just finished.”
The man was high-level, he gave off a mix of Aura and Mana. His attention turned to Ethel
“Maa, it’s good to see you. How long it has been? five, ten years? You should visit more, see what I’ve done with the company you left me.”
Ethel grimaced and Boe growled softly.
“I think we’ve said everything we needed to say on that topic long ago Oscar. I'm here for a different reason now.”
Oscar nodded at that.
“And we’ll get to that, but first the reason I called you here”
Ethel frowned but at this point, a shy voice spoke up.
“Hey granny”
Mark turned to look at the younger man sitting in the only chair in the space. He looked to be around seventeen or so. Mark had first thought he was not interested in what was going on around him, but he could now see the kid was purposefully avoiding looking at the corpse on the table. The comic was his shield.
He came over and hugged Ethel, who returned the hug tenderly. The moment the kid's eyes fell on Jonathan though, they turned dark with spite and competition.
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Jonathan simply looked back at him stoically and maybe with a hint of sadness.
Oscar watched the pair and a satisfied expression appeared on his face.
“Ethan, enough. I’m in a meeting with your brother, don’t interrupt.”
Ethan pulled back from Ethel’s embrace like he had been burned, retreating to the chair once more, clutching the crumpled comic.
“Right, before we proceed any further I think we should address the main reason I called you back. Jonathan, it’s time, time to pick up your role here once more. I miss you, we all do, and now more than ever our family needs to be united in this. Letting you go off on your own was a mistake on my part. We are going to build something here that will last forever and I want you to make the right choice. So, what do you say?”
The man spoke with so much confidence it almost sounded like a foregone conclusion.
Looks alone cannot kill, but that didn’t stop Jonathan from trying his best. All of which just ran off Oscar’s back as he waited for an answer.
Jonathan paused taking time to think. Leaving the room in a state of stretching silence, the metal doors even seemed to quieten at that moment. Taking a slow breath in Jonathan looked at Oscar with resolve.
“First off you didn’t let me leave, I earned it, and second, I already have something I’m building. A place free of your fucked up type of thinking. So my answer is no, I’m not coming ‘home’. Not now, not ever.”
Oscar blinked slowly as if ‘no’ had never been an option he thought he’d hear.
“Right… And this place you are ‘building’, would it happen to be the little faction you just started? Because it'll never be quite free on my type of thinking now will it Jonny, not while you’re there.”
Oscar’s eyes had taken on a predatory look, but now it was Jonathan’s turn to just stare back at him. Deciding he needed a different angle, Oscar turned to Sam.
“Samantha, lovely to see you again, thank you for taking care of my son for me. Do you think you could make him see sense? Family is important after all... Your fathers doing well I assume? I haven’t seen him in years, I should make time to meet him”
Sam pursed her lips at the threat.
“Yes, sir. He’s doing great. Though I fear I don’t have any way to change Jon's mind. He’s kind of stubborn”
Oscar smirked but with less of the cavalier attitude he had moments ago.
“That he is. Well then what about you Mr healer? Mark Young, I believe? Quite a few rumors around you. I know you don’t know me well, but for your sake and the sake of your people, you should try and convince him otherwise.”
Mark remained expressionless as he thought things over.
The whole time they spoke they remained cordial, but that was changing by the second. Mark could already see from their short exchange this man was not used to being told no. In fact, this was quickly heading towards dangerous territory.
Oscar continued.
“Well, how about we look at this from another angle.”
Two of the guards stepped forward with screens, each playing a video on them. The first was one Mark recognized from their patrol the other day and the second was of Sam and Mark entering a hospital from an alleyway and shortly after, everyone began to heal in the streets below. They wore masks but the implication was there.
“See, Jonathan. Your name is tied to mine. Your actions speak for me. I forgave the little nationwide stunt. However, if you think that was permission to do whatever the hell you want, then you are dead wrong. The only way forward is to come home, Jonathan.
Mark, I don’t know what kind of life you want to live but I can tell you it will be a lot easier without Jonathan in it.”
Mark searched Oscar’s face for something. He was threatening to expose Mark's secret, but to be honest, Mark had never really cared about the fact that people would know he was a healer. He’d done so, purely because he saw no reason not to. If the man thought that was a terrifying outcome for Mark, then he was sorely mistaken.
No, what Mark was searching for was anything that showed him he cared for Jonathan, beyond what he could get out of the guy. He spoke about family as if it were a hollow concept. Both of his other sons looked messed up in their own ways and it sounded like Oscar himself had turned on his own mother. Honestly, the fact that Jonathan had turned out as normal as he did, was against the odds. Mark answered with the only thing that made sense in the situation.
“Mr. Wilson, let me be direct. I have no interest in doing that. If this is Jonathan's decision, I’m not going to try and change it. Especially not someone I just met, regardless of threats.”
Oscar's patience had finally worn thin, his next words were filled with aggression and tightened like a noose.
“Then let me spell it out in case you are all slow. If he says no to me, everyone you love is in danger. I will kill your little faction in the cradle. I will come after all of you. I don’t care how it looks to everyone else, I will use my reach to crush you into a fine powder.”
Jonathan lost it, he had kept himself in check the entire time, but now his Aura burst out of him like a flood. Filling the space in its entirety.
Mark was not the focus of the Aura, but even he would have found it hard to breathe without his construct lifting the weight.
“Then maybe I should take care of you now. It would be the best move, right dad?”
Jonathan's eyes were glowing a deep red-gold as he took a step in his father's direction.
The problem was that no one in the room flinched. All around them, Auras went up, and right away Mark could tell they were outmatched. It was not that any of them were individually stronger than Jonathan. Instead, Mark's original thoughts of them being around level thirty were far off. As their Aura’s fought against Jonathan, not a single one of them was below around fortyish, and looking around the room Mark saw over thirty guards slowly converging on them. The large gentleman standing guard over Oscar himself felt comparable to Lisa. His Aura was dense giving off the feel of a clear-cut gem.
For that matter, Oscar himself burned with the pull of a star. Mark felt as if he were on the event horizon of a black hole. Oscar’s Aura was ready to consume everything that it could get its hands on. A savage grin touched the corners of his mouth.
“Well, go on then! Try it! It’s about time you started acting like the son I raised!”
The whole room teetered on the edge action. Mark charged his construct as Ethel attempted to pull the room from the brink.
“Jonathan don’t, he baiting you! Oscar, enough of this! I came here to end our fighting. It's the end of fucking world! We can still be more!”
“Ethel you were always so ruthless, so inspiring, when I was younger. Now you are just pathetic! Maybe it’s the end of your world, but mine is just beginning.”
Oscar drew another pistol from a holster and leveled it at Sam, shaking his head.
No one ever told me how unreasonable kids could be. After I kill you two friends we are going to have a long painful talk, Jonathan.
Jonathan’s last bit of control snapped and pulled his blade, storming forward.