Knox walked through the hallways of HEX HQ. It had been a day since the Death Parade tragedy.
He was quiet—even sad. His gaze stayed fixed on the floor as he moved blindly forward, bumping into people without even batting an eye.
He pulled out his phone and typed a message to someone named Nixon Maiden:
"I need to talk to you."
He hit send.
In the cafeteria, Knox sat alone, sipping his coffee and taking lousy bites of his croissant. He didn't even bother dipping it.
A moment later, someone sat beside him. It was Nixon.
"What's up? You said you wanted to talk?" Nixon asked.
"Yeah. I'm glad you're here." Knox slid an extra croissant he'd bought across the table toward him.
"I… I feel weak. Vulnerable. Small," Knox admitted quietly.
Nixon raised an eyebrow. "What makes you feel that way? You've always been known as a ruthless muscle monster!" He let out a short laugh.
"I never wanted to be one," Knox replied. "But everyone saw me that way, so I became what the world expected. Now there's no going back."
Nixon set his croissant down and looked out at the sky, then back at Knox. "We're all turtles, Knox."
"What do you mean?" Knox asked, confused.
"People recognize a turtle by its shell. Take the shell away, and most won't even know what it is." Nixon said.
"Just like how everyone admires your shell—your muscular, monstrous body—but never looks at your heart," Nixon explained.
"Turtles retreat into their shells when they feel scared, threatened, weak, or vulnerable. It makes them feel protected. You've spent your whole life hiding in your own shell because you feel exposed the moment you step out of it," Nixon explained further.
"I get what you're saying, but that's not exactly what I mean," Knox said.
"Then what is it?" Nixon asked.
"Sovereign… he nearly beat me to death. And even before that, I've always been afraid of him. Terrified." Knox said.
Nixon met his eyes. "Sovereign is the hand that drags the turtle's head out of its shell." He paused. "Do you understand what I'm trying to say?"
"I can't fight back. You know how strong he is," Knox said.
"Then why do you feel weak and vulnerable? You didn't fight him. You didn't attack. You didn't even try to defend yourself. You should feel brave, prepared—after all, you were expecting the beating and you knew you wouldn't resist. So why vulnerable?"
Knox had no answer. He bit into his croissant again, silent and lost. There was no reply because Nixon had spoken the truth.
"Don't show that you're scared, Knox," Nixon said. "If you can't defend yourself physically, do it mentally."
"Sovereign hates it when someone reeks of fear." Nixon said.
"How do you know that?" Knox asked.
"Because he beat me once too. But I never showed a single drop of fear. He gave me two punches, then let me go. He even called me a 'warrior.'" Nixon said, smiling slightly.
Nixon's phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen—a message from Ashley.
"Sorry, I gotta go. See you later!" He stood up. "Don't forget my words, brother."
Knox nodded. He finished the last bite of his croissant and left the coffee untouched.
Knox's phone buzzed. His stomach dropped when he saw the name: Sovereign.
The message read:
"Play their game. It's our move now."
Knox didn't fully understand, but the words pulled him back to that night—when Hannah had mysteriously vanished and Sovereign had said, "Let them play their little games."
---
"What do we do now? It's only a matter of time before one of the rich shows up and wipes us all out." Alfie Jr. asked, voice trembling with worry.
"We steal eight doses of Composite V," Hannah said.
"Eight doses? For what?" Mitch asked, rising from his cardboard bed.
"You're all going to get powers. It's the only way we can kill them," Hannah replied.
"Yeah, fuck all that, mate. Nobody's doing it," Benjamin cut in, stepping into the conversation.
"How are you supposed to take down the empire if you can't even physically hurt the rich?" Hannah protested.
"That's not the point. Taking powers would strip us of our humanity. How can we become the very monsters we want to destroy?" Benjamin shot back.
"Besides, we're not trying to wipe them all out—we're trying to end inequality," Emma added.
"And what progress have you made so far? Zero," Hannah pressed. "Gaining powers would let you defend yourselves and actually become a real threat to the empire."
"Alright then," Benjamin said, turning to the group. "Who agrees with her?"
No one raised a hand.
"Does that answer your question? We refuse," Benjamin said, facing her again.
"Fine… Then what do we do? Someone could show up any minute," Hannah asked, conceding.
Aya stepped forward, glancing at Benjamin. "What if we recruit John?" she suggested hesitantly.
"Do I even need to answer that?" Benjamin muttered without looking at her.
"He could actually be useful," Milo said.
"For God's sake, mate. You think he'd want anything to do with us? The second that bastard sees us, we'll be red fucking mist," Benjamin snapped.
"So you're saying you want to recruit him, but you just don't think he'd agree?" Milo asked.
Benjamin sighed, rubbing his beard in embarrassment. "Yeah."
"I can make him join us. Trust me. John and I were really close back then," Hannah said.
Aya pouted, a flicker of jealousy crossing her face.
"We were friends. Best friends," Hannah clarified quickly.
"But if he fights you—" Benjamin began.
"I know. I'll lose," Hannah interrupted. "But I doubt he'll kill me. He's not a bad person."
Then—
BOOM!
The wall exploded inward. Dust filled the air as a figure hovered above the debris.
"Everyone, hide! He's one of the rich—they're already here!" Hannah shouted.
"Long time no see, Hannah…"
That voice. It was Knox Maiden.
Hannah's mind raced: "Knox?! Fuck, fuck, fuck! He's way stronger than me!" She clenched her fists, gritted her teeth, and steeled herself to fight.
"I can't win, so I'll just buy time and look for an opening for everyone to escape. I can't die yet…" she thought to herself.
She chose a passive approach—charging head-on was suicide, and pure defense was impossible against Knox's overwhelming power.
"You're not getting away this time, bitch!" Knox snarled, launching himself at her.
Hannah dodged. Instead of counterattacking, she retreated farther.
Knox struck again. She barely evaded—this time it was dangerously close.
She hurled debris into his face and drove a punch into his solar plexus, hoping to create distance.
It failed.
Knox caught her wrist, then seized her throat, lifting her off the ground and choking her.
"Come on… you didn't even last a fucking minute," he mocked, smiling cruelly.
"Please… fuck…" Hannah gasped, forcing the words out.
The Maggots rushed from their hiding spots, attacking Knox with everything they had. He ignored them completely.
Then another voice cut through the chaos.
"Let her go."
Knox turned, intrigued. A man in a black suit with distinctive green stripes stood there, wearing a helmet. He removed it and hurled it at Knox's hand, forcing him to release Hannah.
It was John Harper—healthy, composed, and very much alive.
"I know. I'll be careful. I'm not that fucking dumb," John said to no one.
"I was ordered to take you out, Knox Maiden," he declared, walking forward.
Before any of The Maggots could react, John stepped on Hannah's neck, pinning her down.
"Don't think I'm on your side," he said coldly, turning to face Knox.
"Let's get this over with, Knox."
Knox said nothing. Only a slow, dangerous smile spread across his face as he dropped into a fighting stance.