When Martina left the lounge to "give them some privacy," silence descended upon the room like a heavy curtain. It wasn't an awkward silence, but a hollow space of anticipation. Cristian, sitting awkwardly on a dark leather sofa, felt like an intruder. After all, he was the biological son, yet they were the family that had chosen itself. Near was meticulously arranging his dolls, a figure of calm and precision. Matt stood tense and restless, a volcano ready to erupt. S remained a shadow, seated in a corner, his helmet resting on his knees and his mask concealing every expression except for the hypnotic green of his eyes.
Cristian broke the silence. "So... Juglian adopted you?" His voice was weaker than he intended.
Near looked up, his deep black eyes scrutinizing him. "He found us. And he chose us."
"He gave us a surname, he gave us everything," Matt added, his tone caught between rage and devotion. "But it wasn't enough for her."
Cristian frowned. "Who is she?"
Matt grimaced. "Melissa. The woman who said it was for our own good, but who only stole us from him."
Near closed his eyes for a moment, as if reliving the memory. "There were three of us. Near, Matt, and S. One the mind, the other the strength, and the third... our shadow. Juglian found us when we were nothing. No home, no future. We were just numbers in an orphanage: St. Jude's Home for Gifted Children."
His eyes snapped open, fixed on Cristian. "That is where he found us. He saw us. Not just as children, but as what we could become. He invested everything in us. He taught us everything: mathematics, strategy, the art of battle. He promised us we would never be alone again."
Matt dropped into an armchair, his anger beginning to melt into sadness. "We were a team. Two rivals and a father who united us. To be honest, we weren't friends at first. We hated each other—I was too hot-headed, and he was too calm and calculating. But Juglian taught us to collaborate, to become friends, and then best friends. Now, we are inseparable."
"Why did Melissa take you away?" Cristian asked, his voice thick with curiosity.
"Because she was a lawyer. A lawyer with a weakness for Juglian," Near replied, with a bitterness that didn't suit his youthful face. "She used our traumas, our scars, to prove Juglian was an unfit father. She used her knowledge of the law to manipulate the system. We were just numbers on a file, property to be reclaimed. She took us to a maximum-security house, told us we'd have a better education, that we'd have everything we wanted. But it was all a lie. It was a prison. A golden cage."
Silence returned. A silence that, this time, was heavy with shared pain. Cristian couldn't imagine what they had endured. He had been raised by Martina, a mother who never truly loved him, but he had never felt the pain of losing such a powerful father figure.
"We never stopped running," Matt continued, his voice a whisper. "Every day, every night, we tried to escape. We just wanted to go home, to go back to our dad. But it was impossible. Melissa had guards everywhere; she made sure no one could see us or hear us. We were ghosts in a luxury villa."
Near stood up and walked to the window. "But Dad taught us never to give up. He taught us that the most brilliant minds can overcome any obstacle. We were alone, but we were united."
S, who had remained silent the entire time, stood up and approached them. His green eyes were the only visible part of his figure, and they glowed with an inhuman intensity.
"He doesn't talk much, but his eyes are more eloquent than any words. He is our guardian, our shadow. He was the one who engineered our escapes, who pushed our limits. He was our engine."
Cristian looked at S—his masked figure, his piercing green eyes. He felt uneasy, but also strangely reassured. There was something powerful in that boy. A strength that couldn't be seen but could certainly be felt.
"We were like three friends united by an invisible thread," Near continued. "We promised each other that one day we would go home. And now we are here."
Matt walked over to Near and patted his shoulder. "For Dad," he said, his voice firm and certain. "We will save him. We will bring him home."
The Blood Pact
As Cristian listened to their stories, his heart filled with an emotion he had never truly felt before. Love. Love for Juglian. Love for his companions. It wasn't biological love, but a bond born of shared pain, shared hope, and the singular desire to go home.
He stood up and approached Near and Matt. "You were like us," he said. "You were a trio. Near, Matt, and S. And now... we are a quartet. Near, Far, Shadow, and Light."
Near and Matt looked at him, their eyes filling with tears. S stepped forward and placed a hand on Cristian's shoulder. His green eyes, usually so cold, now shone with the light of acceptance.
"You are my family," Cristian said, his voice steady. "We are friends. And together, we will go home. We will free our dad. We will bring him back to us."
Matt allowed himself a smile. "Then, it's a pact."
"It's a pact," Near replied.
Silence returned to the room. But it wasn't a hollow silence. It was a silence charged with promises, hope, and a future they would build together. They were four friends, united by a past of pain and a future of hope. They were Juglian's family, and their love was their most powerful weapon.