Chapter 281
Ronan and the rest nodded, pushing forward through the corridor. The air grew heavier with each step, a creeping weight settling on their shoulders. The silence pressed in, thick and suffocating, until finally—
A great double door.
Han’s face darkened. Without hesitation, he shoved it open.
The door burst wide, and they stepped inside.
A fragrance lingered in the air... sweet, almost intoxicating but the room itself was too vast, unnaturally spacious, like a hollowed cathedral. At the far end, upon a blood-red throne, sat the elusive leader of the Cursed himself.
Drake Voss.
Legs casually crossed, a wine glass dangling from his right hand, his eyes closed as if the world and its chaos bored him. But then slowly, he opened them.
His gaze locked with Han’s.
Blue t crimson.
The air turned to ice. Tension spiked so high it felt like even the walls were holding their breath. For a heartbeat, no one moved.
Then Drake broke it. He raised his glass, sipped lazily, and shook his head.
"Well. I suppose they all failed, didn’t they? Since you... heroes managed to crawl your way here."
He didn’t sound sad. Not angry. Just... disappointed.
Han’s voice cut through the silence, low and calm, but edged with fire. "Drake."
Drake didn’t even bother looking at him. Another sip of wine. Then he set the glass down, folded his hands, and rested his chin upon them like a king with all the ti in the world.
"What is it, Han Trystan?"
Han closed his eyes. His fists trembled. Every nerve scread to lunge forward, to rip Drake apart right there. But no, he needed answers first.
When he spoke, his words were steady, but the calm was cracking.
"Why? Why attack the innocent? If you had a score to settle, you should’ve co for . Not the city. Not the hundreds of lives you slaughtered. Why, Drake? Why did they have to die because of you?"
Drake’s stare hardened, his voice deceptively level but brimming with fury.
"All because of you, Han. Because of you and your damned Trust Guild. If you hadn’t interfered, if you hadn’t dared disrupt the distribution of the cursed serums and cause trouble in Maurina none of this would’ve been necessary. I wouldn’t have destroyed your city. I wouldn’t have needed to."
His words struck like venom.
"You, Han... you are the bane of humanity itself. Stalling the Ultimate Project ans dooming us all. Without .... without my work humanity has no future."
Han’s brow furrowed, his voice colder than steel. "What are you talking about? A bane... to humanity?"
Drake leaned forward, eyes burning.
"You still don’t understand, do you? Humanity as you know it is already on the edge of extinction. Only the Ultimate Project can give us a chance to survive. You call a monster, but I am a necessary evil. Without , Earth is already lost."
His voice rose, breaking through the calm mask for the first ti.
"I was so close! So close to bringing the Project under my control! And then you... you ruined it all."
Han’s brow furrowed as he stared at Drake. What the hell was he on about .... calling himself humanity’s savior while calling them a sha?
Han’s mouth went hard. "Are you saying only you can save Earth?" he asked. "Are you saying you’re stronger than the people who actually protect humanity .... he Class S heroes?"
Drake watched him for a long beat, then laughter ripped out of him, ugly and bright. When it died, he walked toward Han, slow, asured. He stopped right beside him and looked him dead in the eye.
"Do you even know how much danger we’re in?" Drake whispered. "What’s coming... hundreds of S-rankers wouldn’t stop it. Thousands wouldn’t stop it. If you don’t believe ..... see for yourself."
His red eyes flared. Han’s vision bent.
For a mont his breath sharpened, not from horror but from the recognition: the nightmare he’d been haunted by for months, laid bare. Earth a wasteland. Cities torn to bone. No people .... nothing alive. The sky split like an open wound. Ruins, ash, void.
Han’s sight snapped back as Drake turned and returned to his crimson throne. His voice echoed, soft and terrible.
"That is the future if Project Ultimate fails. Which is why I will clear anyone who stands in my way. My mission is to save humanity .... no matter what it costs. Now you know."
Han didn’t answer. His mind was a bruise — the dream, Drake’s vision: the sa damn map. Too similar. Coincidence? He forced himself to breathe, to rise. He looked up at Drake on the throne.
"Tell , Drake," Han said, "how many lives will you sacrifice in this ’saving’ of yours?"
Drake smirked, amused. "What are you getting at? I will gladly sacrifice entire continents if even a handful of humans live on. Survival is survival."
Han’s face darkened. His jaw clenched. "You’re hopeless," he said. "You might fight for a noble cause, but your thods are monstrous. You deserve nothing but death. If you aren’t stopped, you won’t save Earth. You’ll be the reason it ends up like your vision."
Lightning crackled around Han’s hands, bright and impatient. He looked at Drake with a calm, almost clinical neutrality. "You’re crazy," he said. "And crazy people die."
He hurled the bolt.
Han had asured Drake, analyze his stats and found out that he is weaker than the rumors. The lightning should have ended everything. But at the last second a figure appeared in front of Drake. A hand shot out, palm forward, and caught the lightning like it was nothing. It crushed the bolt in a shower of sparks.
Drake’s voice dropped, low and satisfied, right behind the dark emmissary..... behind the unknown figure.
"I told you my visions always co true," Drake said. "I knew you’d make it to this room. Do you know why? Because you don’t die on the battlefield."
"You die here. Right now.
By her hands."
To be continued....
AUTHOR’S NOTE
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