The First Men Chronicles

Chapter 38: Converging Paths

Draven lay motionless on the sterile examination table inside a dimly lit laboratory within the base. Faint beeping sounds echoed from nearby medical monitors, while a soft blue light pulsed overhead.

Circe stood beside him, her sharp, observant eyes scanning every inch of his form. Her fingers glided over an ethereal Shen diagnostic tablet, gathering data on his energy output, muscle density, and internal Shen reserves.

"You're growing fast," she murmured, analyzing the readouts. "Too fast."

Draven remained silent, his expression unreadable.

Circe tilted her head, studying him. "You don't talk much, do you?"

Draven still didn't respond. His cold indifference was like an impenetrable wall.

Circe sighed, placing the tablet aside. "Why did you join us?" she asked, genuinely curious.

Still nothing.

Draven finally sat up, his movements deliberate as he reached for his shirt. His muscles tensed beneath his skin as he pulled the fabric over his head, his physique sculpted from battle and hardship.

Circe, for the first time, found herself staring.

There was something undeniably captivating about him—an allure that wasn't just physical but primal. A dangerous magnetism. His silence, his power, his growing darkness—it intrigued her, but also unnerved her.

She could sense it, like a festering wound deep within his soul.

Draven finally spoke.

"Are we done here?"

Circe blinked, pushing back whatever strange thoughts had surfaced in her mind.

"…Yes."

Without another word, Draven stepped off the table and strode toward the exit, his aura imposing, yet his presence eerily silent.

Something was growing inside of him.

And he knew it.

The Shadow Over the Falls

A waterfall roared in the distance, cascading down jagged rocks into a mist-covered lake below. The landscape was untouched—ancient and serene, yet burdened by the weight of something far more sinister.

A solitary figure stood at the very edge of the cliff, motionless.

Shiki.

His jet-black robe billowed slightly in the damp air, intricate white calligraphic inscriptions running down the fabric like whispers of forgotten oaths.

His wide-brimmed kasa cast a shadow over his sharp features, his face partially obscured in a way that made his presence even more unsettling. His gloved hands rested at his sides, still, yet capable of unleashing absolute devastation in an instant.

Behind him, a voice broke the silence.

"The rumors have spread," said a man emerging from the shadows, his tone measured. "Your little brother… Draven. He's joined The Ten."

Shiki did not turn.

"I know," he replied simply.

The man, Nico, stepped forward, his scarred face partially hidden beneath a dark hood. Unlike Shiki's stillness, his stance carried cautious energy, as if ready for anything at any moment.

"Does this change anything?" Nico pressed.

Shiki finally turned his head slightly, his gaze unreadable.

"Does it need to?"

Nico smirked faintly. "Depends. People are already whispering… the bloodline of the Arcade family is back in play. And if what we're hearing is true, your brother isn't the same boy he once was."

Shiki didn't respond, but something flickered in his eyes.

A tension hung between them.

Nico exhaled, shifting the subject.

"Everything is in place," he said, adjusting his gloves.

Shiki nodded.

"Good. Let's move."

With that, he turned, stepping away from the cliff's edge, disappearing into the shadows of the mist.

The Hunters Arrive

The mountains stood tall, their misty peaks veiled in secrecy, untouched by time.

Amid the dense canopy of trees, two figures perched silently on the thick branch of an ancient oak, their forms hidden within the shadows.

Feng narrowed his eyes, his senses sharpened to their peak.

Gong, crouched beside him, ran his fingers along the bark, feeling the residual energy in the air.

"…He's here," Gong whispered.

Feng exhaled. His grip on the handle of his blade tightened.

They had finally found Draven.

And they were not leaving without him.