was struggling to breathe. "I am sorry for my indecent behavior! But… why have you been here for a century?"
Xander's gaze was cold. "I won't answer that. But after all the favors I've provided you, are you planning to forsake your promise?"
"I am sorry! That's not what I meant, Sir Xander!" the man pleaded.
John checked his pad, then looked up at the cameraman. "Officer, if you want us to forget this disrespect, I want you to release the cameraman from his post and remove his family's surveillance—without a trace."
The officer stood in shock, speechless. He pulled out his phone and stepped aside.
Xander turned to John, frowning. "What are you doing, idiot? Why are you doing this?"
John simply nodded. "Trust me for a minute."
Xander stared at the cameraman. "I don't know what you're trying to do. Is he really worth it?"
The officer returned moments later. "It's done, sir. Thank you for giving us this chance."
He turned to the cameraman and extended his hand. "You are no longer an agent, Specter. Please return your gun and badge."
The cameraman set down his equipment, his movements slow, deliberate. With a deep breath, he unholstered his gun and placed it alongside his badge in the officer's outstretched hand. For a moment, he hesitated—then, reluctantly, he shook the officer's other hand.
With his camera slung over his shoulder, he walked out of the castle, the weight of unseen chains lifting from his shoulders.
John sat at his computer, his fingers tense against the keyboard as he muttered under his breath, eyes fixed on the screen. Ethan Holdman. Codename: Spector. The words sent a chill down his spine.
"98% success rate. No traces, no major losses…" John murmured, scrolling through classified mission logs. His heart pounded as he read the codenames:
Operation Blackout. Ghost Protocol. Silent Requiem.
He ran a hand through his hair, his mind racing. "Erased a terrorist base. Infiltrated the mafia. Holds the highest Navy shooting record. A living phantom," he whispered.
Xander, standing behind him, narrowed his eyes. "Why the hell do we need him?"
John exhaled sharply, leaning back in his chair. "Xander, when you're walking through a world like this… you need someone you can rely on." His voice was firm, unwavering.
Xander scoffed, shaking his head. "Him? You expect me to trust a ghost?"
John smirked, tapping the screen. "MI6 spies are the best in the business. And the world isn't slowing down."
Xander stepped closer, his gaze landing on something unexpected—a locket hanging from John's neck. His breath caught. The shape, the engravings… it was unmistakable.
His fingers clenched. The locket. The one I gave that child before I left for war.
His voice was low, demanding. "Where did you get that locket?"
John blinked, startled. "It was given to me… by my uncle."
Xander's jaw tightened. "His name."
John hesitated before answering, "Tonner Holdman."
For a moment, silence hung between them. Then Xander let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head in disbelief. He placed a firm hand on John's shoulder, his voice laced with something between nostalgia and relief.
"Tony… that stubborn fool. He made it."
Ethan, who had been listening in silence, felt a jolt in his chest. He stepped forward, his voice almost a whisper. "You knew him?"
Xander met his gaze, a ghost of a smile on his lips. "Knew him? He was a brave boy. Reckless as hell, but always standing tall."
Turning back to John, his expression hardened once more. "John, I'm leaving his family—and his official status—in your hands. Same as before.".
Eathen's mind was practically screaming— "What the hell do these guys think they are?! How can they both act so damn arrogant?!"
Before he could even blink, Xander casually turned around, flashing a smug grin. "Of course, we're arrogant. Because we can do whatever we want."
eathen stood frozen, staring at Xander in awe. His mind raced, grasping for what to do next.
Xander, however, was already sensing something—an unfamiliar presence. A force unlike any he had felt before. His pulse quickened as he turned his head sharply, his instincts screaming.
It was Alex.
Xander could feel it—the Stigma of Order.
His eyes narrowed. "Alex! Come here!" he shouted.
Alex hesitated but stepped forward. Xander wasted no time. Grabbing Alex's arm, he pulled up his shirt.
And there it was.
A glowing rune burned on Alex's back—etched with raw, untamed power. The symbol pulsed with brilliant energy, radiating a thunderous force. It was ancient, commanding, alive.
Xander's breath caught in his throat. His vision blurred.
What… is this?
Before he could react, John rushed in. His gaze locked onto the rune, and the moment his eyes met its brilliance—
Light exploded.
John staggered backward, clutching his face as his vision burned with overwhelming radiance. His pupils—gone. His sight—shattered. He gasped, struggling to regain his balance as he blinked rapidly, but all he could see was an endless flood of white.
And then—
Everything shifted.
Xander and John found themselves standing in a separate space. A void where time and reality no longer held meaning.
A voice, deep and commanding, echoed around them:
"Xander… Alex's stigma has awakened. But his fate—his destiny—cannot yet bear its full weight. Do not let the Brave Light witness his mark."
The presence loomed closer. "John, protect Alex. He may seem small, but his knowledge surpasses yours. Yet beyond knowledge, he is no different from any ordinary man. Guide him well."
As quickly as it came, the presence vanished.
Xander gasped as he snapped back to reality.
Eathen, watching all of this unfold, felt something cold crawl down his spine. He turned to Alex, who stood trembling—his small hands clenched, his eyes glassy with fear.
Then—tears.
"I-I'm sorry!" Alex sobbed, his body shaking. "I didn't mean to…!"
Eathen moved, grabbing Xander and John's wrists, checking their pulse. Alive—but weak. He examined their wounds. Then, as he lifted John's face—
His stomach dropped.
"Shit," Eathen whispered, eyes widening.
John's pupils were burnt out.
The secretary standing nearby gasped, frozen in shock. "W-What happened?! What's wrong with him?!"
Eathen didn't waste time. "His eyes are damaged—call the healers, now!"
Alex continued sobbing. "I-I'm sorry!"
Eathen turned to him, placing a firm hand on the boy's shoulder. "Look, kid. Don't cry. He's hurt, that's all. We'll fix this."
Taking a deep breath, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.
He dialed.
The moment the call connected, he barely had time to speak before a barrage of shouting erupted from the other side.
"Lilith—listen, listen! I'm fine, I'm good!" Eathen cut in quickly. "But I need you to come to North Valley, NewTech City, the white castle —ASAP. Bring Mom. Move fast!"
The yelling on the other end escalated.
"You IDIOT! What did you do this time?!"
Eathen sighed. "Just get here—NOW!"
And with that, the call ended.
He shoved his phone back in his pocket, exhaling.
Shit just got worse.
And she say " fuck ! the healers are not near us it only c rank healers !".
and with that, the call ended.
Ethan didn't flinch, his expression unreadable. His sharp gaze remained locked on Xander and John, monitoring their vitals with a calculating calm.
Minutes passed. Then, his phone rang again. Without looking up, he spoke firmly.
"Alex, go bring them in."
Alex nodded and sprinted outside. As he opened the door, he saw three figures waiting—a woman with worried eyes, an elderly woman with a commanding presence, and a young boy gripping the woman's hand.
"Are you the ones Uncle Ethan called?" Alex asked breathlessly.
The woman stepped forward. "Yes. Where is he?"
Without a word, Alex led them inside.
When they reached Ethan, he was kneeling beside Xander and John, checking their pulses. The elderly woman's eyes narrowed as she took in the sight.
"What are you doing? Healing comes first!" she scolded, pushing past him.
Ethan barely reacted. "Fifteen minutes," he murmured. "It was a high-intensity defensive spell—pure light energy."
The elderly woman knelt beside Xander, her hands already moving. She pried open his eyelids and examined him with practiced care. "He's stable, but unconscious. He needs to wake up."
Meanwhile, the woman moved to John. Her breath hitched. "His irises…" she whispered.
The elderly woman's face darkened. "They're burned."
The words hung heavy in the air.
"If we don't heal him now, he'll lose his sight permanently," she added, her voice firm.
The boy, standing nearby, took a hesitant step forward. The woman turned to him. "Ben, open his eyes and hold them steady."
Ben swallowed hard but did as he was told. His small hands carefully pried John's eyelids open.
A soft golden glow surrounded the elderly woman's hands as she whispered an incantation, magic flowing into John's damaged retinas.
Meanwhile, she turned to the woman. "Heal Xander's head. Keep him stable until I'm done."
She nodded and got to work.
Thirty minutes passed in tense silence, the only sound the steady hum of healing magic. Finally, the elderly woman sat back, wiping sweat from her brow.
She turned to the woman. "How's it going?"
She frowned. "I can't reach his consciousness. Something's blocking me."
They both redoubled their efforts, but Xander remained unresponsive.
Alex watched them struggle and suddenly remembered the spell the elderly woman had used earlier. Without hesitation, he stepped forward and began chanting the words he had memorized. A soft, white light fell over Xander.
A moment later, Xander's eyes snapped open.
"Ah, damn!" He groaned, blinking against the brightness. "By God, Zeus nearly threw me into the void!"
Before he could say another word, alex launched himself into Xander's arms.
Xander let out a breathless chuckle and hugged him back. "Nothing happened, kid. Your great-grandfather just needed to have a little chat with us." His voice softened. "How's John?"
As if on cue, John bolted upright with a loud gasp.
"Whoooa! Damn, life—that hurt!" he groaned, rubbing his temples.
He looked around, eyes wide, as if seeing the world for the first time. Every ripple of energy, every unseen force—he felt it, could almost touch it.
Xander and Ethan exchanged a look.
" welcome back form beeing blind ! master ", his butle asked .