Untitled story

The afternoon sun hung low over the city.

Students filled the sidewalks after school let out. Merchants called to passing customers while children wove through the crowd.

Varrick walked beside his elder sister, Evelyn.

As they made their way down the street, a loud voice echoed from farther ahead.

"Brothers and sisters..."

"Look around you."

A crowd had gathered in the middle of the road.

At its center stood a preacher.

Varrick paid him no attention and continued walking.

"Stop."

Evelyn gently caught his sleeve.

"Let's listen for a bit."

Varrick let out a quiet sigh but stopped beside her.

The preacher continued.

"Every generation promises a better tomorrow... yet buries more of its own."

"We speak of freedom as mankind's greatest gift... but if every person chooses only for themselves..."

"...who chooses for the world?"

Some people slowed to listen. Others laughed and kept walking. A few nodded in agreement, whispering among themselves.

Varrick wasn't listening to the sermon. He was watching the man delivering it.

His posture was rigid. His shoulders were unnaturally tense. One hand remained tightly clenched while the other moved as he spoke. His eyes swept across the crowd far too often, and every few moments, he swallowed hard. His breathing was controlled... but forced.

Most people wouldn't notice. Varrick did.

Grandmaster always said the body speaks before the mouth does.

A clenched fist. Rigid shoulders. Eyes searching for danger. Forced breathing. A dry swallow.

The signs of someone under pressure.

"...He's being threatened."

Evelyn looked at him. "What?"

"The preacher."

She glanced back toward the man. "He just looks nervous."

Varrick shook his head. "No. Grandmaster taught me the difference. A nervous man fears what might happen. A threatened man fears what he already knows is going to happen."

Evelyn studied the preacher again, but she still couldn't see it.

The preacher raised his voice, his tone growing desperate.

"History is not destroyed by monsters... it is destroyed by ordinary people who believe their own desires matter more than everyone else's."

"When the end comes, humanity will face the question it has always feared."

"Is freedom worth more than peace? Is choice worth more than order?"

"Repent now... or be damned."

Silence settled over the crowd.

Evelyn was the first to speak. "Our family has a lot of money. Why can't we just end world hunger?"

Varrick kept his eyes on the preacher. "Why waste money on a fantasy?"

She frowned. "Fantasy? What do you mean? They wouldn't be hungry if we gave a little of the wealth we have."

"The only way to eliminate world hunger... is to eliminate the concept of evil."

"Isn't that possible?"

"No. The only place without the concept of evil is Heaven. If there was no evil in the world... there would be no reason for us to exist in the first place."

Evelyn smiled. "You don't know that. When you become the head of our family... I'll make sure you end it. No matter how much it costs."

She reached over and pulled his ear. "Come on."

Varrick looked at her with the same calm expression. "Although you are older than me... you're quite dumb, sis."

Evelyn gasped dramatically. "Nice. You won't be eating dinner tonight. I'll see to that."

Still holding his ear, she dragged him toward the waiting family car.

The ride home was quiet as the city drifted past outside the window. After a while, Evelyn broke the silence.

"If everyone chooses only for themselves... who chooses for the world?" She looked at Varrick.

"My option isn't in that statement," Varrick replied.

She raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"I won't choose myself... or the world. I would always choose family."

Evelyn smiled faintly. "It seems like they've gotten into your head."

"I don't hate them like you do, Evelyn."

"I don't hate them," she replied. "I just don't like what they stand for. They got Uncle Phillip killed."

Varrick watched the passing city. "He got himself killed."

The words lingered between them. Evelyn’s smile vanished. Her jaw tightened, and she looked away, staring fixedly out the side window as her fingers gripped the edge of her seat.

"I don't blame you for thinking that way," she said softly, her voice suddenly hollow.

Silence returned as the car disappeared through a pair of towering iron gates.

The mansion came into view. Soaring white stone walls surrounded an estate so vast it resembled a kingdom more than a home. To outsiders, it was simply the residence of the Kalogera Family—the White and Ginger Family—one of the Six Great Families. A bloodline respected. Admired. Feared.

The truth lay beyond the mansion's walls. Since the age of five, Varrick had attended every meeting of the Elders—meetings Evelyn had never once been invited to.

"Haa..." Evelyn nudged his shoulder, shaking off the tension from the car ride. "You've been standing there forever. Come on. Push the door open."

They crossed the vast entryway until they reached the grand doors leading into the main sitting room. Varrick placed a hand against the heavy wood and pushed.

The doors slowly swung inward. Immediately—

"VARRICK!!"

A wooden training sword flew across the room. Without looking, Varrick caught it by the handle.

"...Ah," he sighed. "Not again."

The room erupted with laughter. Children sprinted through the massive space, chasing one another with their abilities. A little girl created tiny flames that danced around her fingertips while another child desperately tried to catch them. Two teenage cousins argued over whose technique was stronger. Several uncles and aunts laughed around a table as they debated politics, while others gossiped over tea as though nothing unusual was happening.

Another wooden training sword lifted into the air. Then another. Then another. All of them pointed directly at Varrick.

"I'M GONNA WIN THIS TIME!" A little boy stood near the base of the grand staircases with both hands stretched forward, his face red with concentration.

Evelyn wrapped both arms around him before he could send them flying. "Calm down. He already apologized."

"I DON'T CARE! He broke my computer!"

"It was an accident," Varrick replied. "You poured juice on my keyboard first."

"I was aiming for your homework!"

"You missed."

"I KNOW!"

The floating swords shot toward Varrick. He stepped aside as one buried itself in a pillar and another bounced harmlessly across the marble floor. He caught the last one without even turning around.

"...Your aim still needs work."

An older man closed his book and sighed, though a gentle smile played on his lips. His father walked over, resting a hand on Varrick's shoulder. "I'm afraid playtime will have to wait. The Elders are expecting you."

Varrick gave a small nod. "I understand."

"Good." His father turned toward the entrance. "I have some matters to attend to outside. Don't keep them waiting."

The heavy doors closed behind his father, and a sudden silence settled over the room. Every member of the family knew where Varrick was going.

The Kalogera Family had survived for centuries because neither side ruled alone. The White faction sought prosperity through growth; the Ginger faction sought survival through calculated destruction. Two ideals. One bloodline. To prevent either from dominating the other, the family had long ago established the Twin Seat system.

The left staircase belonged to White. The right belonged to Ginger. Neither side was permitted to set foot upon the center staircase.

Only the ruling Elders... and the Child of Unison.

Varrick walked forward without hesitation. He never looked left. He never looked right. He placed his foot upon the first step of the center staircase.

No one spoke. They simply watched.

Step by step, he climbed higher. The noise of the family faded beneath him, replaced by a heavy, suffocating quiet. At the top of the stairs, he reached the grand, reinforced threshold of the council chamber.

The heavy doors groaned open. Ten Elders waited patiently in a tense, symmetrical silence—five seated to the left, five to the right. Separate from the long council table stood another, smaller table flanked by three thrones, with a motionless Grandmaster standing beside each outer seat.

The moment Varrick crossed the threshold, every Elder stood in unison.

He walked directly toward the central throne. It was a massive seat of authority, cutting a stark contrast against his young profile—a seat he had occupied more often than any desk at school. Before the throne rested a great balance scale. Beside it sat a bronze bowl filled to the brim with gleaming gold coins.

He took his seat.

At once, the tollkeepers raised their mallets.

GONG!

The deep sound rolled through the chamber like distant thunder. The council had begun.

An Elder from the White faction slowly rose to his feet, adjusting his glasses as he looked over his documents.

"Young Master," he began, his tone smooth and deliberate. "Global crime has plummeted by forty-five percent since the Hero Organization was founded. They have integrated seamlessly across the United Nations. However, recent data indicates an uncharacteristic shift. They have begun meddling in our business. Our private infrastructure and research centers are facing heavy regulatory friction under the banner of 'public justice.' But we know the historical pattern—justice is merely the dialect chosen by an authority when it seeks an absolute monopoly on power."

The Elder lowered his head and took his seat.

Before the air could clear, a Ginger faction Elder cut in, slamming a heavy palm onto the table as he stood abruptly. His voice was sharp, blunt, and stripped of pleasantries.

"They crossed a line, simple as that!" he barked. "A single raid on our southern maritime routes cost us billions and sent our market value into a tailspin. We are sitting here debating logistics while funding our own slow strangulation. My recommendation is total, absolute annihilation. They want to play the shield for humanity? Let's shatter it and remind them that even knights bleed."

Without a word, Varrick reached toward the bronze bowl. His fingers closed around a single gold coin. He placed it upon one side of the balance scale.

The arm tilted toward the Ginger faction with a faint metallic click.

Across the room, an older White Elder rose. Unlike his clinical colleague, his voice carried the heavy, sorrowful cadence of a historian.

"Have we forgotten so quickly?" the old man asked softly, looking around the room. "Thirty years ago, before their shield was raised, families in this very room buried children taken by violence. Entire communities lived in perpetual fear. That forty-five percent reduction in crime isn't a spreadsheet metric to be dismissed—it is the reality of youths walking the streets today because of it. Are we truly so blinded by quarterly losses that we would tear down public safety? Is our wealth worth buying back at the price of humanity's hope?"

Varrick reached into the bowl once more. A single gold coin rested between his fingers. He placed it upon the opposite side of the balance.

Clink.

The scale shifted back toward equilibrium.

The debate continued, but the initial noise began to distill. Arguments became sharper; rebuttals grew colder. One coin after another found its place upon the scale.

White. Ginger. White. Ginger.

Somewhere along the way, Varrick stopped listening. Their voices faded into little more than distant echoes. He no longer knew who was speaking or what specific grievance they were airing.

Only one sound kept pulling him back to reality.

Clink. Another coin struck the pile.

Clink. Another argument.

Clink. Another decision.

The endless rhythm had become as familiar to Varrick as his own heartbeat. He knew this wouldn't end until he spoke. The Elders could argue for hours, but in the end, they were waiting for only one voice.

His.

Varrick searched for the right words, yet none came.

Until—

"Enough."

The Grandmaster's voice cut through the chamber like a blade. Instantly, silence fell. Every Elder lowered their head.

The Grandmaster standing beside the throne turned toward Varrick, his face as unreadable as carved stone.

"Young Master. What is your final verdict?"

Varrick said nothing. Instead, he reached for the balance scale. With careful movements, he adjusted it until both sides rested in perfect equilibrium.

The chamber remained dead silent.

Varrick knew this feeling; he had experienced it countless times before. This wasn't impatience—it was a test. The Grandmaster wasn't waiting for a rushed answer. He was waiting to see whether Varrick could command silence before he tried to command people.

Silence is control. The old man had taught him that years ago. A ruler who speaks too quickly follows the room. A ruler who can make an entire room wait... leads it.

Nearly a minute passed. No elder dared utter a word.

Only then did Varrick finally speak.

"The Hero Organization will remain."

No one interrupted.

"They have become a pillar of public order. Eliminating them would create a vacuum that criminals and evolved beasts would eagerly fill. However... their interference with the affairs of the Great Families cannot continue unchecked."

Varrick rested a hand upon the balance scale.

"During the Hero Organization's next recruitment... I will volunteer to join."

A murmur spread through the chamber.

"The strongest youths of our family will accompany me. I expect the other Great Families to send their strongest as well. From within, we will observe how the organization operates. We will discover how they locate our facilities, identify the source of their intelligence, and develop effective countermeasures."

He looked across both factions.

"At the same time, we will reduce unnecessary damage to our assets while allowing the Hero Organization to continue protecting the public."

Silence lingered. Then the Grandmaster beside the throne spoke.

"I do not fear for you." His expression never changed. "I fear for the children who will stand beside you. The next recruitment will gather the strongest youths from every Great Family. See that they return alive. That is all."

A faint smile appeared on Varrick's face.

"I have faith in the strength of my brothers and sisters who will accompany me." Varrick paused. "And... I hope to find worthy competition among the other families."

The council chamber fell silent. The meeting was adjourned.

The Hero Organization believed they were recruiting the next generation of heroes.

They had no idea they had just invited their greatest threat through the front door.