Jide's gaze swept over the group, his eyes narrowing just slightly as he assessed them.
Each of them emitted distinct energy signatures, something he noted with a quiet sense of intrigue.
His voice, when he finally spoke, was calm and measured, yet carried an undeniable weight.
"You four… are the mutants, I presume?"
There was no malice in his tone—only a lingering curiosity. It was as if he had already dissected them within the span of a single breath.
Neto felt the weight of Jide's stare lingers on him for a moment longer than the others. It was clear—he saw something different about Neto. While the others were mutated by beast DNA, Neto was… something else. Not quite like them. Not quite normal either.
But whatever Jide suspected, he left it unspoken. For now.
They certainly resembled the Vakkari—the monstrous creatures that attacked indiscriminately—but unlike those mindless beasts, these four were… intact. Cognizant. Controlled.
Jide's posture was poised, hands clasped neatly behind his back. A man prepared for both diplomacy and conflict at any given moment.
The silence that followed his words hung heavy in the air, demanding acknowledgment.
This was a man whose reputation preceded him. His outward composure was a thin veil over something far sharper, far more dangerous beneath.
Neto, standing slightly ahead of his friends, processed the question carefully.
His gaze flickered toward Jide—there was respect, but also caution.
The man's calmness was unsettling. It wasn't the forced calm of someone suppressing anger, nor was it arrogant. It was the kind of presence that demanded acknowledgment—but never submission.
He briefly glanced at his friends, making sure they were ready.
"If you mean people with odd traits, then yeah, that's us."
His voice was firm, neutral—not revealing too much just yet.
His posture remained casual, but beneath that ease, his shoulders were tense—coiled, just in case.
"I'm Neto," he continued, tone deliberate, measured. "And these are my friends."
The silence that followed felt like a challenge—Jide's calm interrogation met with Neto's own carefully guarded response.
Then—
"Neto Amari, I believe?"
Jide's voice carried certainty, not inquiry.
He took another slow look at the group before turning away, his gaze shifting toward the window.
"We recently learned about the Vakkari, only to discover that every continent had been infested with them."
He reached into his coat, pulled out a small metallic box, and placed it on the table.
A single tap.
A holographic figure flickered to life—a man.
[RANKLESS: SHAWN WILLIAMS.]
The name alone carried weight.
"That's the perpetrator."
Jide's voice was level, yet edged with something unreadable.
"He's rankless, as every information about him has been scrapped off.
We only have info on this name,but it's baseless.
Even we- the Athel heads have no info on him.
But we have an assumption of him being at list S rank,or Even A Quasi God Tier."
"Quasi?"
"Yes. A one-step level into the realm of the God tier.
But it's merely speculation. "
He exhaled, crossing his arms.
"He's a ghost. But we do know his motives."
His eyes flickered to Neto, studying his reaction.
"Two objectives."
"The first?" Neto prompted.
"He wants to 'strengthen' humanity—by exterminating those he deems weak."
A cold realization settled over them.
"And the second?"
Jide's expression darkened.
"He wants to create a God."
A ripple of unease passed through the group.
Neto's expression remained unreadable, but something in his gut twisted.
Because for a moment—just a moment—it clicked.
"He's been in contact with officials worldwide—ones we just recently apprehended. They helped him create an army."
Jide tapped the table again, cycling through dozens of classified reports.
"Each one said the same thing—Shawn has been fixated on one experiment."
His gaze locked onto Neto.
"Over 100,000 experiments.
And we have no estimate of the surviving numbers."
Neto's fingers curled into a tight fist.
"Why are you telling us this?"
Jide's response was blunt.
"Because in the end,he succeeded in creating you."
The words hit like a thunderclap.
Jide's eyes held no mockery—only a grim certainty.
" 'God,' as he calls it."
The silence was suffocating.
Jide's next words, however, carried a smile.
"It's not hard to gather information when you're an ATHEL head."
His tone was almost casual.
"Your father was a pseudo-A-rank, but your potential? Far beyond his."
A pause.
"And the fact that you were kidnapped straight from a prison cell?"
He leaned forward, resting his hands on the table.
"Your potential must be enough to surpass God-tier for that man to call you 'God.'"
Neto's jaw tightened. His hands clenched.
"What do you want?"
Jide's smirk didn't fade.
"Relax. You're kids. I'm not here to fight you."
He tilted his head.
"Not that you five could match me anyway."
His confidence wasn't arrogance—it was a statement of fact.
"He's coming for you, Neto. You're his endgame. That's why I need your help."
"Help?"
Jide's smirk widened.
"Bait."
Silence.
"I can provide anything you need."
Neto's eyes darkened.
And then—he grinned.
It wasn't friendly.
It wasn't amusement.
It was something else entirely.
"Killing that guy?"
His voice was disturbingly calm.
His eyes gleamed—not with excitement, but something far colder.
"That's reward enough."
Jide tilted his head slightly, his sharp gaze assessing Neto with an unreadable expression.
Something was unsettling about the way Neto reacted—cold, detached, yet carrying a glint of something darker beneath the surface.
His friends exchanged uneasy glances, the weight of the moment settling heavily between them.
Even they weren't entirely sure how to respond to the shift in his demeanor.
Jide raised a hand, silencing any further discussion before it could escalate. His posture remained relaxed, but his presence alone commanded attention.
"You four will be assigned accommodations and officially listed as students," he stated, his voice even but firm.
"We'll need time to acquire the necessary technology to disguise your appearances, so for now, stay out of sight."
He met their gazes one by one, ensuring they understood the gravity of the situation.
"Until then, keep a low profile. Avoid unnecessary attention."
The words hung in the air, a quiet but undeniable warning.
●●●●●●●●●●●●●
The night air was cool, carrying with it a whisper of the city's hum below. The stars above, dimmed by the lights of the city, felt distant and unreachable. Neto stood at the edge of the rooftop terrace, his arms crossed as he gazed at the skyline, his mind a thousand miles away. The quiet of the night, the emptiness, the weight of the silence—it felt too heavy like it was pushing down on him.
This was the first time he had come up here; he barely knew of its existence before this day. He just couldn't find himself able to sleep tonight, and his headache was getting a bit worse.
He heard footsteps approach, soft but deliberate. Without turning, he knew it was her.
Zuri.
The sounds of the night seemed to pause as she stepped closer, her presence like a calm breeze. She leaned against the railing, mirroring his stance. Her eyes, hidden beneath the moonlight, were focused on the city below, but Neto could feel her gaze as if it were on him.
"Couldn't sleep either?" she asked, her voice low, almost too soft to reach him over the wind.
Neto didn't answer immediately, just stared ahead. His fingers tapped lightly on his arm, a habit that spoke of his unease. After a long pause, he muttered, "Not much point in forcing it."
Zuri didn't press, letting the silence stretch between them. She knew that feeling—when everything inside you felt too loud for rest when your body was exhausted, but your mind wouldn't stop running. She let out a quiet sigh, her breath misting in the cool night air.
"I thought you'd be able to handle it better," she said, her voice tinged with the faintest hint of teasing, though there was an understanding in it too.
Neto chuckled, the sound darker than it should have been. "I don't handle much of anything too well."
There was a shift in the air, a subtle tension that only came when two people who understood the weight of silence shared it. Zuri glanced at him, studying his features. It wasn't the first time she had seen him this way, but tonight, there was something different about him. He seemed distant, more closed off than usual.
"You're always so guarded," she said, her voice carrying just the right amount of quiet insistence. "You know... you can let your guard down around me. I'm not going to bite you."
Neto's lips curled into a small, bitter smile. He was about to reply when she spoke again, this time her tone softer, almost vulnerable.
"I know what it's like, Neto. To carry the weight of everything, to not let anyone see the cracks."
Neto turned to her then, his expression unreadable, yet there was a flicker in his eyes, something raw. He had never been good at opening up, but the way she said it, as though she understood him in a way no one else could, disarmed him. For a moment, his usual defenses seemed to crumble, if only slightly.
Zuri stepped closer, her presence now a comforting weight. She wasn't trying to push him, just offering a space of understanding.
"You don't have to go through this alone," she said softly. "Not with me."
Neto stared at her for a moment, the air thick with unspoken words. He wasn't sure why, but in that instant, he felt the temptation to lean on someone. To let someone see the parts of him he kept buried. It wasn't something he allowed often, but here, with her, something in him shifted.
"I've never let anyone in," he muttered, almost to himself.
Zuri smiled, her eyes softening. "Maybe it's time to change that, just a little."
The words lingered in the air as they both turned to watch the skyline in silence. The night stretched on, and for a moment, it didn't feel so heavy anymore.
After much thought, he uttered,
"I went to jail for a mistake I made."