Chapter 65: The fallout
With a swift gesture, the Master raised both arms and summoned a gust of icy wind. The fire that had raged across the estate trembled before dying down, reduced to angry embers and smoke. But the damage had already been done. Portions of the once-proud mansion were blackened, ruined—its scorched stones bearing witness to betrayal.
Beside him, Percy and Little 7 stood frozen in disbelief.
"I… I can't believe he did this," Little 7 whispered, his eyes darting over the destruction.
Percy swallowed hard. "It doesn't make sense. He was the favorite. The Master's chosen. Why would he turn on us?"
The Master said nothing. His jaw clenched, his eyes following the trail of destruction left in Little 9's wake. But Percy's thoughts were already racing, piecing together the fragments of recent events.
He remembered it vividly now—a day when the Shrouded One had been held down by the Master's power, his voice cracking with rage as he'd cried out, "You killed my parents!" The words had shocked them all. And then, the Shrouded One had said something else—something Percy hadn't dared to think about until now: "You should check your own pasts. What if he did the same to you?"
At the time, Percy had dismissed it. After all, the Master had saved him. He was just a boy when he'd been brought in, an orphan with no name, no history. The Master had given him purpose, power… a place to belong.
But now?
Now he wasn't so sure.
He turned slowly to look at the Master. The man who had raised him. The man who had created them all. His gaze was no longer filled with certainty. Only doubt.
Without a word, Percy stepped away.
"Where are you going?" Little 7 asked.
"To find him," Percy muttered. "There's more going on here than we know."
---
The forest was still and quiet when Percy arrived at the hidden house nestled between the trees—a place only a few knew the Shrouded One retreated to when he didn't want to be found. The door was slightly ajar, and inside, Percy found him sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall, his eyes staring into nothing.
He looked like a shadow of the ruthless boy they had once followed.
"You found me fast," Little 9 muttered, not even lifting his head. "I thought you'd be chasing after me with Little 7."
"I needed answers," Percy said as he stepped inside. "You… you were telling the truth, weren't you?"
The Shrouded One turned his head slowly. "Yes."
And then, for the first time, he shared everything—how the Master stole him from his parents, how his memories were erased, how he had cried himself to sleep in that cursed room, and how he had only recently remembered it all.
Percy listened, his arms folded, his eyes flickering with emotion.
"I'm sorry," he said softly when the tale was over. "No one deserves that."
"But you're still on his side," Little 9 said bitterly.
Percy hesitated. "He saved me. I was nothing. No home, no family. Just a stray. And he gave me a life. I can't just throw that away."
"Then you're as dumb as I thought," Little 9 said sharply, standing up now. "He raised us like pets—like tools to serve his plans. He used your loyalty against you."
"I don't want to be your enemy," Percy said.
"Then don't stand in my way."
A silence stretched between them.
"If you go after him," Percy said at last, "you'll have to go through me too."
Little 9 stared at him, his eyes dark. "Then so be it."
---
Back at the mansion, the Master paced alone in his chamber, his cloak brushing the cracked floor beneath him. He stared at the mirror on the wall—the one that shimmered like dark water, hiding the presence of the shadowy figure who guided him.
He could call upon it. Tell it everything. Admit that Little 9 had turned. That the boy had betrayed him.
But he didn't.
He clenched his fists and turned away from the mirror.
The shadow would tell him the obvious: Get rid of the boy. The prophecy child. The weapon gone rogue.
But the Master wasn't ready to let him go.
Not yet.
Somewhere deep in his twisted heart, he still believed—no, hoped—that Little 9 would come back to him.