Isagani was always late.
Always.
It wasn't just bad luck. Maybe it was a curse. Maybe it was fate.
He remembered Mr. Quill's voice like a blade in his mind.
"Isagani… your squad is wiped out. I'm working on building your new team…"
Isagani didn't respond. He couldn't. Inside, he felt hollow.
"I hope you learn to not be late next time… or your new team will get wiped out as well."
The words cut deeper than any weapon.
For a moment, he considered quitting.
But then he remembered why he started.
The feudal wars, the likha. The endless cycles of clans killing clans, all under the law that made it… legal. Since the birth of Emovere, the innocent had died while the powerful played their games.
He couldn't stop fighting—not yet.
So he continued. He became a captain. He killed Likha. He taught students how to survive. How to fight. How to be more than just pawns of the Hades Initiative and the feuding clans.
Now, back in the present.
The forest came alive with the sounds of battle.
Isagani ran, faster than he ever had, each step fueled by desperation.
"Please… just this once… let me make it," he muttered under his breath.
By the time he broke through the treeline, the battlefield was a nightmare. Bodies were scattered, blood soaking the ground, chaos frozen in the aftermath of the Likha's attack.
Only one person remained standing, still fighting.
Shock froze Isagani for a heartbeat. Then instinct took over.
He raised his hand.
Red motus glowed along his fingers.
He drew a perfect circle in the air—symmetrical, flawless. The energy hummed violently, hotter than the surface of the sun.
"Get down!" he shouted.
He flicked the circle forward.
The Likha didn't stand a chance. It was cut in half, evaporating instantly into nothingness.
The healer team arrived moments later, rushing to stabilize the remaining Emovere.
Isagani's eyes darted across the battlefield.
And then he saw him.
Sora.
Lying in a pool of blood.
"Healer! HEALER!" he screamed, dropping to his knees beside him.
The healer worked frantically, but the wound was fatal.
"Sora… hang on… please…"
Sora opened his eyes, weak but smiling faintly.
"Was my fit good?"
That simple, stupid question shattered him.
Isagani held Sora's body, tears slipping silently down his face. He didn't scream. He didn't curse. He just cried.
A few days later, the phone rang.
"Isagani… I know you're not able to work. I understand your situation with your student," Mr. Quill said calmly.
"But the Datu has a mission for you."
"What mission?" Isagani's voice was hoarse.
"There's a boy," Quill said. "Allegedly, he killed four children and three police officers. We need you to bring him to Hades Initiative and train him."
"WHAT?! You want me to train a fucking killer?!"
Quill's voice remained steady.
"Report says he survived four direct bullets to the head—one from an unknown gun, three from police trying to stop him when he went wild. He killed three officers instantly. Impossible, right?"
*"The kids…" Isagani's throat tightened. "It's not confirmed he killed them… but the police—"
"We need every Emovere our country has," Quill interrupted.
"We're in a war. And I have good news…"
He paused, letting the weight of it sink in.
"Remember the Duke state I mentioned? Shiro, from the Himugura clan of Japan? Last week he stayed in Maharlika. I asked him a favor—"
Isagani cut him off.
"Wait… really? Mr. Quill… are you saying…?!"
"Yes," Quill replied.
"Your student's lifespan is reduced by a fourth, but he's alive. Rebuild your squad."
Isagani's chest tightened as the weight of responsibility settled on him again.
"…The Datu of Luzon saw your potential," Quill added.
"He wants to promote you into Duke state."
And just like that, the burden—and the chance to make a difference—was placed back on his shoulders.