Into The Unown

The Final Battle

"It's... you."

When the mask had finally shattered, Charlus saw the man beneath. Or the man who used to be. No... what was beneath now wasn't a man. Only a ghost of what once stood.

Time had frozen Mark Jorum. His face hadn't aged. He looked just like when they'd buried him. Pale with empty eyes—he looked more like a specimen preserved than a man.

Gary winced. The fractures in his legs had made it impossible for him to stand. "Dad... who is he?"

Charlus couldn't breathe. He stepped away. Not because of fear, but out of recognition. "Mark Jorum..." he whispered, "you're dead."

Mark tilted his head. "Death is nothing but concept constructed by people who whose mind cannot comprehend the realities of this world." A chuckle escaped his lips, "Like yours."

When Charlus refused to blink. Gary worked his brain in overtime. "Is he... is he the same Mark?" He asked his father, "the one who was Serena's dad?"

"I am Serena's father!" Charlus' voice echoed through the chamber. "And you..." His hands trembled as he stretched them forth, "I knew there was something wrong with you. It was you wasn't it?" His memories traced itself backwards to when their headquarters was at the orange islands and suddenly everything made sense.

The missing operations. The failed raids. The orange island headquarters. It made sense why Calem's investigation turned out to be a dead end. He was searching for someone alive and... and...

"You!" Charlus's voice trembled. "You... you gave up James's location. You killed him."

Mark's expression never changed. There was no frown lines, no excitement and no regret. If Charlus didn't know any better, he would say Mark was a dead man. "Dead individuals cannot be prosecuted."

Charlus laughed as he stepped forward.

Gary knew what his father was about to do. He also knew what the outcome would be. Charlus Oak may have been a great fighter, but he was no match against someone with aura. "What are you?" He asked again, "You give no heat signature. You are not human, you are not a machine. So, what are you?"

"He's a piece of taxidermy." Charlus spat, "These metal rings... they're what keeping him alive. He used these to charge himself before he attacked you."

Mark didn't speak, but they felt it. The shift in the temperature. The vibrations of the broken metal rings. They watched in silence as the aura dissipated from the rings and swam in silence towards Mark. The purple changed to black as it wrapped itself around his arm.

Charlus gulped, his eyes met Gary. Though no words were spoken, enough were conveyed. He's charging.

Gary nodded. He was broken, fractured and tired. But far too many people depended on him for him to give up.

"You don't deserve to use these rings," Charlus spat, his hands tightened against the rod in his hand, "this was James's technology. You're just a lying thief. A coward."

"31%," his voice was the same. There was no remorse, no hesitation, no emotion. Mark was dead, what remained in front of him was a mere shell of what once was.

Mark raised his hands and darkness exploded. There was no warning, no waiting period. The black aura exploded from his palm like a jet stream. The attack was uncoordinated, it skidded across the chamber and stuck where Charlus was standing.

"Charlus!" Gary shouted.

He took a dive. The blast may have missed his heard by an inch, but it has managed to get a hit in his ribs. Charlus stumbled out of his projectile and slammed against a pillar.