Chasing Shadows

Chapter Thirty-Nine: "It's NOT your fault"

The base's training room was empty and silent, its wide expanse illuminated only by the faint, flickering glow of overhead lights. Asher stood in the middle of the room, his gaze distant as he stared at the polished floor, his mind drifting back through the years-back to a time when he wasn't Titan, but just a boy struggling to live up to a legacy that seemed impossible to reach.

He closed his eyes, and the present began to blur, the memories rushing forward like an oncoming tide. It was in this very room where his father's voice used to boom with strength and authority, guiding him through every movement, every stance, every strike.

"Again, Asher. Focus. You're letting your guard down too easily."

The words echoed in his mind, clear and commanding, as if his father were still standing there beside him. He could see it now-his father's imposing figure towering over him, his gaze sharp and unyielding. Lucas Calloway, the legendary hero who had protected the city for decades, known to the world as Sentinel. He wasn't just a hero; he was the hero. The one everyone looked up to. The one who inspired generations to follow in his footsteps.

The one Asher had spent his entire life trying to live up to.

Asher remembered the days when he'd barely reached his father's waist, watching in awe as Sentinel moved with a power and grace that seemed almost otherworldly. Training was rigorous, yes, but it was also a time filled with hope and excitement. His father had never treated him like a fragile child; from the moment Asher had shown interest, he'd been put through the same training regime as any aspiring hero.

"Why do I have to keep doing this, Dad?" a younger Asher had asked once, panting heavily after running through the same series of drills for what felt like the hundredth time. "I already know how to punch!"

Lucas had crouched down to his level, his gaze softening just a fraction. "Being a hero isn't about how hard you can hit, Asher. It's about how well you can protect others. Punching is easy. Learning when not to punch... that's what makes a true hero."

The lesson had stuck with him ever since. Even now, years after his father's death, it echoed in his mind every time he raised his fists in battle, every time he faced down a threat. He knew his father was right, but living up to that ideal? That was the hard part.

Opening his eyes, Asher sighed, glancing around the empty room. How many times had he trained here under his father's watchful eye? How many times had they sparred, sweat and determination mingling with the quiet understanding that one day, all of this-being a hero-would fall on Asher's shoulders?

After all, the Hargroves had been heroes for generations. His great-grandfather, his grandfather, and then his father-all of them had served the city faithfully. It was tradition, a legacy passed down from father to son. But with that legacy came expectations, ones that seemed to grow heavier with every passing year.

"Do you understand what it means to be a Calloway?" his father had asked him one night after a particularly grueling training session.

Asher had nodded, his young face set with determination. "It means protecting people. It means being strong enough to fight off anyone who threatens the city."

His father had smiled-a rare, genuine smile that Asher had cherished. "Yes, but it also means carrying a burden. Being a Calloway means being prepared to give everything. Even if it means sacrificing yourself."

Asher had nodded again, not fully grasping the weight of those words at the time. But he understood now. Oh, he understood all too well.

When his father died in battle, everything changed.