The dining hall was a wreck of shattered marble, broken glass, and silence thick enough to choke on. Irwin lay slumped amid the debris, groaning faintly, his monstrous frame deflating as the effects of TEMP Z burned out.

Isaac stood over him for a moment, calm and unbothered, brushing the dust from his sleeve as if nothing had happened. His eyes swept across the destruction, past the gaping servants and trembling relatives, before finally landing on his father.

For a heartbeat, no one dared to move.

Then Isaac exhaled softly. "Well," he murmured, half to himself, "that was disappointing."

He turned to leave… and then paused.

Without warning, his form began to blur. The surface of his boots rippled as though the ground beneath him had turned to water. Gasps erupted from every corner of the room as his body started to sink into the marble floor, inch by inch, until he vanished entirely, leaving only faint ripples of distorted light where he'd stood.

Servants and guards had now gathered, one of them yelping at the sight and the others confused, waiting for orders from their boss.

"What the hell-?!" one of the guards stammered, clutching his weapon.

But before anyone could make sense of it, Isaac rose again from the ground directly behind his father.

Fletcher Sr. stiffened, his hand twitching toward his cane.

Isaac's voice came low and steady from behind him. "So, old man, I'm going to need your help with something."

His father didn't turn around. The air between them was razor-thin, charged with unspoken tension.

"I'll come speak to you about it a little later," Isaac added, stepping back and nodding toward Sven and Takeshi.

The two followed without a word, Sven giving a lazy salute toward the shell-shocked room as they strode out.

Elizabeth, trembling but determined, scrambled after them. "Isaac, wait-!" she called out, nearly tripping over a fallen chair.

He didn't stop immediately, but his steps slowed enough for her to catch up. The sight of him up close made her heart twist. His eyes were colder, sharper… yet she could still glimpse the brother she remembered buried beneath that hard exterior.

Even though he had changed so much, she was still drawn to him - the only one who had ever truly cared for her, before he left the family.

The rest of the family was frozen in stunned silence.

Fletcher Sr. sat in the only chair that was intact, hands steepled, his expression unreadable. Pride warred with fury in his eyes - his mind torn between admiration for the man his son had become and resentment at how thoroughly that man had defied him.

After a long pause, he finally muttered, "Clean this up. And take Irwin to the infirmary."

Servants rushed into action, sweeping through the hall like frightened mice.

As they lifted the battered Irwin, Fletcher Sr.'s gaze lingered on his fallen son. He couldn't help but see him differently now - less the flawless heir, more the weak one.

Meanwhile, Isaac's mother remained in the corner, pale and silent, her fingers trembling as she toyed with her necklace. She didn't know whether to weep or smile. Relief, guilt, and shame tangled inside her chest.

Isaac didn't so much as glance her way. That was, perhaps, the cruellest kindness he could offer - the same cold indifference she'd shown him all those years ago, when she'd turned her face away and let his father push him out of their lives.

And on the floor, barely conscious, Irwin stared at the ceiling, his breathing ragged.

'We were supposed to do everything together,' he thought weakly, watching the chandelier sway above him. 'I took on the harder jobs. I got my hands dirty when you couldn't bear to. I carried Father's ambitions so you wouldn't have to… and you left me behind.'

A faint, painful smile crossed his bruised lips.

'But… I'm glad you're doing better now, brother.'

His eyes slipped shut as exhaustion claimed him, and the sound of Isaac's fading footsteps echoed down the corridor - steady, calm, and utterly untouchable.

-

Elizabeth clung to Isaac's arm the moment they stepped out of the dining hall, practically bouncing with excitement. Her grip was tight enough to make his sleeve crumple, and she was already firing off question after question before they even reached the corridor.

"Where have you been all these years? What happened to your arm? Who are your friends? You look so different. How did you even-?"

Isaac chuckled softly, the faintest smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Slow down, Lizzie. One at a time, yeah?"

Sven and Takeshi trailed close behind, the two watching quietly. Sven had that faint grin of his, lazy and amused, while Takeshi simply observed with those calm, unreadable eyes. They could tell that something in Isaac had shifted - like he'd just cut free a weight he'd been carrying for years. The tension from dinner had melted away, replaced with something gentler.

Elizabeth's joy was infectious, and for the first time since they'd arrived, Isaac didn't look burdened.

They eventually made their way to a quiet balcony on the manor's upper floor, one that overlooked the vast, perfectly trimmed lawns and the gravel path that wound toward the gates. Isaac remembered this place well. He used to sneak out here as a kid, hiding away from his father's lectures to read books in the sun.

"Still the best view in the house," he murmured, resting a hand on the rail.

The four of them settled in, the moonlight spilling over the marble tiles. A light breeze carried a scent of damp grass, soft and nostalgic.

Isaac spoke lightly at first, telling his sister bits and pieces about his new life. He kept the darker parts hidden - the death, the blood, the monsters - but offered a stripped-down version: how he'd met an odd group of mutants, travelled with them, and somehow survived through chaos after chaos.

Elizabeth listened wide-eyed, her expression flickering between awe and disbelief. "Mutants? That's incredible! I mean… a bit scary, but - still incredible!"

She glanced over at Sven and Takeshi, curiosity brimming. "You two don't look scary, though. Well… maybe a little," she added, smiling nervously.

Sven snorted. "I get that a lot."

Takeshi simply nodded, his calm presence enough to make her relax again.

It wasn't long before Elizabeth's chatter turned toward Sven, who was the only other who could actually respond with words. "So… what's that ring on your necklace?" she asked suddenly, pointing at the silver ring dangling from the chain around his neck.

Isaac looked too, curious. "Yeah, I've been wondering that myself. You've had that thing on you ever since I met you."

He even had it on during his first interaction with Kai at Nadya's old fight club.

Sven paused, his easy grin fading slightly. For a moment, he looked like he might deflect the question with a joke - but then, unexpectedly, he sighed.

"You're right," he said quietly. "I've had it a long time."

Both Isaac and Elizabeth waited, sensing there was more, and they were completely caught off guard by what came next...

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