Project Superior: A Hero's Awakening

The Last Embrace

Percival sat back, reminiscing about their childhood. He remembered how Jonathan always seemed to get into fights with other kids, which inevitably led to trouble.

Jonathan chuckled, embarrassed. "I didn't fight just for the sake of it. I only went after those who bullied others."

Percival laughed. "Always the hero type, huh, Jona?"

Jonathan smirked. "At least I wasn't flirting with every girl I saw."

Percival, a little sheepish, defended himself. "They came to me. I didn't do anything to make them like me."

Jonathan shook his head with a grin. "That only makes it worse, Percy."

Percival joined in the laughter, then snapped his fingers. The world around them shifted and began to warp, revealing a tapestry of their childhood memories.

Scenes unfolded: the two brothers playing together, their parents, the ups and downs of family life, the countless squabbles and reconciliations. Moments of joy and sorrow flooded the space around them, painting their shared history in vivid colors.

Suddenly, one memory stood out: a much younger Jonathan playing in the rain near a set of stairs. Jonathan's expression darkened—he remembered this day well. It was the day he slipped, injuring himself severely.

As the memory replayed, something new caught Jonathan's attention. His younger self crouched by the stairs, watching raindrops, when—out of nowhere—young Percival appeared and gently pushed him.

Jonathan watched in disbelief as his younger self tumbled down, screaming in pain, his ankle sprained, bones fractured. The younger Percival stood at the top of the stairs, staring coldly at his fallen brother.

The scene faded into other memories, but Jonathan sat frozen, processing the revelation. He turned slowly toward Percival, who was calmly munching on an apple, seemingly oblivious.

"What... what was that, Percival?" Jonathan's voice was tight with controlled fury.

Percival didn't respond immediately, absorbed in watching the memories unfold. When Jonathan asked again, louder this time, Percival cut him off, pointing excitedly at another memory.

It was their parents' funeral.

The scene played out under pouring rain. Everyone wore black, mourning the tragic loss of their parents, Elizabeth and Benjamin, who were murdered in a brutal massacre involving gifted individuals. Jonathan watched his younger self weep uncontrollably, but young Percival stood stoic, showing no emotion.

Percival's voice broke the silence. "Remember this day? The day our weak, pathetic parents were taken from us? Everyone cried, but not me. Not a single tear. Because they weren't worth it."

Jonathan's fists clenched, anger bubbling to the surface as Percival continued. "I learned that day how frail they were. How could gifted beings like us be raised by such... ants? I even hunted down their killer, thinking I'd feel something, but I didn't. That's when I realized—ungifted people shouldn't exist at all."

Jonathan erupted, standing in fury. "How can you say that about our parents? They gave everything for us!"

Percival simply snapped his fingers, dissolving the illusion around them. He turned to face his brother, his calm demeanor eerily unshaken. "Do you think I'm joking? Have you ever wondered where I've been all these years?"

Percival's eyes darkened as his tone sharpened. "Did you really think I was out there, living a peaceful life, marrying some princess, raising kids on a farm? No!" He slammed his fist into the wall, his voice rising with irritation. "I've been working tirelessly toward my dream. Unlike you."