Chapter 16: The Aftermath
The world reassembled itself with a nauseating lurch. The blinding white light of the Sanctum's emergency evacuation dissolved into the chaotic, smoky air of the city's central plaza. We landed not gracefully, but in a heap of exhausted, wounded bodies, dumped unceremoniously onto the cracked cobblestones.
Screams, both of terror and relief, filled the air. Medics and Guild officials swarmed the area, pulling hunters from the pile, their faces masks of horror and confusion. The glorious Ascension Trials had ended not with a coronation, but with a mass casualty event.
I landed on my knees, Kaelen's dead weight still clutched in my arms. I was exposed. My mask was gone. My face, smeared with soot and blood, was there for anyone to see. The frail younger brother, holding the city's promising hero.
For a long moment, no one noticed us in the chaos. I just knelt there, feeling the shallow rise and fall of Kaelen's chest, the only thing that mattered.
Then, a medic approached, his eyes wide. "Vance! We have Hunter Vance! He's alive!" He reached for Kaelen, then his gaze flicked to me. His brow furrowed in confusion. "Aiden? How did you…?"
I didn't answer. I couldn't form words. I just released my brother, letting the medics gently lift him onto a stretcher. As they carried him away, his eyes fluttered open for a second. They were hazy with pain and exhaustion, but they were his. They focused on me, standing there amidst the wreckage of his world. There was no anger in that glance. No gratitude. Just a deep, bottomless confusion. Then, he lost consciousness again.
I was left alone in the crowd.
The notifications I had suppressed in the final moments of the battle finally caught up with me, but they were garbled, as if the System itself was concussed.
[ Experience Calculated Post-Event... ]
[ Aetherial Cullers Defeated: 11. Mini-Boss Contribution: 1. Hostile Entity Expulsion: 1. ]
[ Level Up! You are now Level 42. ]
[ +3 Free Stat Points. ]
The energy that flooded me was dull, muted. There was no triumph in it. I allocated the points on pure, drained instinct. Stamina. Stamina. Stamina. I needed an anchor. I needed to be solid, to not break apart.
[ Aiden Vance - Level 42 ]
[ HP: 72% (Regenerating) | MP: 210/1820 (Regenerating) ]
[ Strength: 16.09 ]
[ Agility: 29.93 (+72.41 from Apocalypse's Greed) ]
[ Stamina: 32.89 ]
[ Intellect: 15.02 ]
[ Spirit: 15.70 ]
[ Free Points: 0 ]
I was Level 42. My real Agility was over 102. I had stood against a multi-universal predator and won. And I had never felt more powerless.
"You."
The voice was quiet, but it cut through the din like a knife. I turned. It was the shield-bearer from Kaelen's squad, the one I'd saved in the Thicket and the Quarry. He was leaning on the ranger for support, his armor dented, his face a bloody mess. He was staring at me, his eyes wide with a dawning, impossible realization.
"It was you," he breathed. "The shadows in the Quarry. The binds in the Reef. The Ghost… it was always you."
The ranger next to him followed his gaze, her own expression shifting from exhaustion to shock. They knew. The secret was no longer just Kaelen's.
I didn't confirm or deny. I just looked back at them, my silence a confession.
Before they could say more, a squad of Ironheart Enforcers, the Guild's internal security, pushed through the crowd. Their leader, a stern-faced woman with a scar across her jaw, ignored the wounded and walked directly up to me.
"Aiden Vance," she said, her voice devoid of emotion. "By the authority of the Ironheart Guild Council, you are to come with us for immediate debriefing. The nature of your involvement in the… incident… requires explanation."
This was it. The consequence. I was no longer a phantom; I was a person of interest. An asset to be secured and dissected.
I nodded slowly. I had no fight left in me. As two Enforcers moved to flank me, a weak voice croaked from a nearby stretcher.
"Wait."
It was Kaelen. He had forced himself up on one elbow, his face ashen. All eyes turned to him.
"He's… my brother," Kaelen said, each word a struggle. "He comes… with me. To the Guild infirmary. Not… your interrogation block."
The lead Enforcer frowned. "Hunter Vance, with all due respect, the Council's orders—"
"Were given without knowing he just saved every life in that arena," Kaelen interrupted, a flicker of his old fire returning to his eyes. "I am the ranking Ironheart officer here. He is under my custody. Is that understood?"
The authority in his voice, frail as it was, was undeniable. The Enforcers hesitated, then looked to their leader. She studied Kaelen's determined face, then my resigned one. Finally, she gave a curt nod.
"As you wish, Hunter Vance. But the Council will expect a full report."
They helped Kaelen onto a new stretcher and, with a gesture from him, indicated I should walk beside it. The medics moved out, heading for the Guild's secure medical wing. The shield-bearer and the ranger watched us go, their faces unreadable.
The journey through the city was a blur. People stared at the procession of wounded heroes, and at the strange, unscathed boy walking among them. Whispers followed us. "That's the Vance kid… the crippled one…" "What's he doing there?"
We arrived at the sterile, white halls of the Ironheart infirmary. Kaelen was rushed into a private room for intensive healing. I was placed in the room next to his, the door left open, an Enforcer stationed politely but firmly outside.
Alone, I sat on the edge of the pristine bed, staring at my hands. They were clean now, but I could still feel the phantom grip of my brother's armor, the shock of clashing with the Aetherial entity.
An hour later, a healer finished with Kaelen and came to see me. "He's stable," she said. "Extreme mana depletion and psychic trauma, but he'll recover. He's asking for you."
My heart hammered against my ribs. I walked the few feet to his doorway. He was propped up on pillows, IV lines running into his arms, but his eyes were clear. He watched me enter.
The door closed behind me, leaving us alone for the first time since the Screaming Maw. The silence was a living thing, thick and heavy with everything unsaid.
He spoke first, his voice rough but steady.
"The Aetherials," he said, not asking, just stating. "That's what you were protecting us from. Not just dungeon monsters. Them."
I nodded, my throat tight.
"All the lies," he continued, his gaze boring into me. "The wheelchair. The helpless act. You let me believe… you let me break myself… for nothing."
"It was never for nothing," I whispered, the words raw. "I was trying to keep you safe. To keep you from becoming a target for that." I gestured vaguely towards the ceiling, towards the memory of the possessed Sanctum.
"By making me a pawn?" he shot back, a flash of the old anger returning. "By pulling my strings in the shadows? I spent weeks hunting you, Aiden! I thought you were an enemy!"
"I know." There was nothing else to say.
He looked away, out the window at the city he'd almost died to protect. The anger seemed to drain out of him, leaving behind a profound, weary sadness.
"When it had me…" he said quietly. "I was still in there. A passenger. I saw what it was. I felt its hunger. I saw… everything." He shuddered. "And I saw you. I saw you fight for me. Not as the Ghost. As my brother."
He looked back at me, and for the first time, the wall between us had a crack in it. It wasn't forgiveness. It wasn't understanding. It was a grim, awful acknowledgment.
"You saved my life," he stated. "You saved everyone's lives."
He fell silent for a long moment, his energy clearly waning.
"The Guild… the city… they're going to have questions," he finally said, his eyes closing. "A lot of questions. About you. About what you are."
"I know," I repeated.
"We'll face them," he murmured, already half-asleep from the healing draughts. "Together."
The word hung in the sterile air. It wasn't an embrace. It was a treaty. A fragile, uncertain alliance forged in the crucible of cosmic horror. He drifted off to sleep.
I stood there, watching over him, the guardian no longer in the shadows, but standing in the light of a hospital room. The battle was over, but the war was just beginning. And for the first time, it seemed my brother and I might be on the same side.