Adam's fists trembled at his sides, eyes glowing with a searing heat that barely masked the storm behind them. His voice cut through the air like a knife.
"You want to know why I ended up like this?" he snapped. "Why I don't care anymore?"
The Elder watched him silently while Michael, Torren, and Blitz stood still, waiting.
"They hated me," Adam spat. "From the very beginning. Before I ever had a chance."
His gaze wandered—lost in memory or maybe in pain.
"I was different. I knew I was strong. I worked harder than anyone else at the academy. But none of that mattered. They looked at me like I didn't belong. Like I was… broken. Dangerous."
He clenched his jaw, breathing sharply through his nose.
"So I entered the tournament. I thought maybe—maybe—if I proved myself there, they'd finally see me for who I really was."
He paused. For a moment, it looked like the fire behind his eyes flickered.
"But I lost," he said flatly. "First round. Didn't even make it past the opening fight. And after that? They didn't just ignore me—they laughed."
Michael's brows furrowed, watching him with growing unease.
"I became a joke," Adam continued. "A name they forgot or remembered only to mock. My so-called potential? Buried under their ridicule."
He looked at the Elder again, the hatred in his eyes reigniting.
"So I gave up on their approval. I stopped trying to be what they wanted. If they saw a monster—fine. I'd give them one."
His smile was hollow, and the flame dancing around his fingers flickered in rhythm with his words.
"I let go of everything that held me back—rules, honor, mercy. All of it."
He raised his voice now, barely keeping it under control.
"Because I realized the world doesn't care about strength, or talent, or how hard you try. It only cares about winning. And when you lose—they throw you away."
The silence that followed was heavy. No one said a word.
Adam's eyes narrowed.
"So don't pretend to understand me. None of you do."
Michael and Torren exchanged uncertain glances.
"…Didn't he already say all that?" Torren muttered under his breath.
Michael nodded slowly. "Yeah… something's not right."
Adam kept speaking—his voice rising and falling with the same bitter rhythm.
"They laughed at me… they all laughed. Even when I gave it everything I had!"
His hands curled tighter into fists, flames licking around his knuckles again.
"They deserved what they got! Every single one of them looked down on me!"
Torren leaned toward Michael, whispering, "He's repeating himself. He's not even making sense anymore."
The Elder, still composed but visibly perplexed, took a careful step forward.
"Adam," he said calmly, "what exactly are you talking about? Who are you referring to? When did this happen?"
But Adam didn't answer. He just kept ranting—more incoherent now. More unhinged.
"They said I wasn't ready. Said I wasn't enough. But look at me now! Look at me! Who's laughing now?!"
He let out a short, breathless laugh that held no joy.
The Elder narrowed his eyes slightly. Something was deeply wrong, not just with Adam's words—but with his entire sense of reality.
"Adam… who told you these things?" he asked again, this time more firmly.
But Adam didn't respond.
He just stared into nothing—lost in a memory that might not have been real to begin with.
"And then… after everything I went through… they came," Adam growled, his eyes burning with fury.
Everyone grew silent.
Even Ralph, barely clinging to consciousness, managed to open his eyes, drawn to the tension in Adam's voice. Though he couldn't speak, he listened closely.
"The secret order," Adam continued. "They found me. Gave me this power. Gave me a reason to keep going. Everything I've become—everything I can do now—is because of them."
The Elder narrowed his gaze. "What secret order?"
Adam went rigid. The fire in his eyes extinguished in an instant, replaced by sheer dread. His mouth opened slightly as the weight of what he'd just revealed sank in.
He took a staggering step back, then dropped to his knees.
"No… no… no…" he whispered, trembling. "I didn't mean to say it. I didn't mean to—"
Then, he looked to the sky. Eyes wide. Breath caught.
"Please… Lord, forgive me," he cried, voice cracking. "I wasn't supposed to say anything! I wasn't! Please, don't punish me—I beg you! Don't erase me, I'll be loyal! I swear it!"
He pressed his forehead to the dirt, shaking.
"I didn't mean to fail you…"
Suddenly—a thunderous rumble shook the earth.
Without warning, a bolt of lightning—vastly stronger than anything Blitz had ever conjured—came crashing down from the sky like divine judgment.
It struck Adam in a blinding flash. There was no scream. No time. When the light faded, he was gone. Not even the ring remained. Nothing. The air was still. The silence is oppressive.
Michael, Torren, Blitz—none of them could speak. They stood frozen, barely comprehending what they'd just witnessed.
The Elder's face darkened as he stared at the scorched earth. Of them all, he looked the least surprised.
But even he seemed disturbed. Not by Adam's destruction—but by the power behind it.