Lucas was not home when the predator arrived, but the tragedy had already taken root in his life the previous day. He was a man of medicine who lived for his son and his young grandchild, finding purpose in their growth and happiness. While the police were focused on George, Lucas's world had already begun to crumble in secret. He returned to his empty house shortly after Sam departed, finding the silence of the rooms more painful than any physical wound.
The doctor's grandchild had been kidnapped just yesterday, a fact that Lucas had been struggling to process in his own way. The boy was the light of his life, a creative soul who had inherited his grandfather's focus but applied it to art rather than healing. Now, that light was gone, taken by a shadow that didn't care for the sanctity of human life or the legacy of the gods. Lucas stood in the ruins of his home, the weight of his sixty-six years finally feeling like a burden he couldn't carry.
Before Lucas could sink into total despair, a heavy knock at the door signaled the arrival of two figures from his ancient past. Ziven, the ex-army man, and Martin, the retired teacher, stood on his porch clad in their old, weathered combat gear. They looked like ghosts from the year 2025, their eyes burning with a fire that the peaceful years of 2070 had failed to extinguish. They had come to find their brother and to bring the fight to the enemy who had dared to touch their blood.
Lucas listened to the story of George's disappearance and the horrific murder of the grandchildren with a grim, clinical focus. He didn't need to be persuaded to join the cause; the loss of his own grandchild had already made the decision for him. He went to a hidden medical safe in his basement and retrieved the equipment he had kept for nearly half a century. He donned his old doctor's coat and gripped his specialized tools, ready to join the hunt for George and the others.
The three legends stood together in the moonlight, a reunion of the elements that was as powerful as it was tragic. They were the "Three," the survivors of a war that had supposedly ended decades ago, now forced back into the roles they thought they had left behind. There was a brief moment of happiness in seeing each other alive, but it was overshadowed by the sadness of the situation. They were old men being dragged back into a nightmare, fighting for a future they feared was already lost.
"We must find the children first," Lucas said, his voice steady despite the underlying grief that threatened to consume him. He explained that his grandchild was more than just a boy; he was a master of observation who never went anywhere without his camera. He knew that the boy's last known location was the city zoo, where he had gone to take pictures of the animals. Lucas believed that the key to finding the killer lay in the evidence the boy might have left behind at the scene.