Selene's voice clipped through the air.
"Fire and high-tech cooling don't mix. Especially not near critical systems."
Kael scratched at his collar, a nervous tic.
"Yeah. Looking back... not my best idea."
A low chuckle came through the static. Their father's voice rumbled, steady and amused.
"You three never change."
Ash leaned forward, elbows digging into his knees. His gaze fixed on the screen.
"Are we fixing the signal, or is this just a comedy hour now?"
The screen flickered before their father's voice came through clear, strong.
"I'll handle it. In the meantime..."
The feed warped again, shifting out of focus before settling back into place.
The connection cleared, his voice holding more weight now.
"...Selene's been a huge help. Her father looks different—lighter, maybe. I don't think I've ever seen him this proud. Having his kids with him... I guess it reminded him why he does this."
Kael leaned back, folding his arms with a grunt.
"Forget all that. You know I'm stronger than everyone here. So why didn't you take me?"
Laughter cut in sharply, bouncing through the speakers. Selene's voice rang out, no mercy in it.
A pause, then another laugh.
"Did you forget how many times my brother wiped the floor with you?"
Kael sat up, his eyes hardening.
"Not that many. Eighty-three. And two of those weren't losses. And Elias has been training way longer. It's normal that he's ahead."
Their father hummed thoughtfully on the other end.
"And that right there, son, is why I didn't take you."
Kael's jaw tightened.
"You're not ready, And I don't want my boys anywhere near something this dangerous."
Max stretched out, his legs sinking deeper into the couch. He spoke with a lazy drawl.
"Yeah, leaving the galaxy isn't exactly a weekend trip."
Kael rolled his shoulders, shaking off the tension.
"Anyway, since I'm the strongest here, I'll be leading this little group from now on."
Ash and Max exchanged a long, unblinking stare. No words, just a shared understanding.
Kael's chin lifted, a challenge in the set of his jaw.
Their father let the silence hang, heavy and deliberate, before his voice broke through, calm and sure.
"Well... I already chose a leader."
Ash's thoughts were sharp.
'Definitely not Kael.'
Max let out a soft sigh, already bracing for what was coming.
Their father didn't hesitate.
"Max will be leading Team Vortex while I'm away."
Kael's body went rigid. His hands clenched at his sides, and the tension was palpable.
"What?! But I'm the strongest!"
"That's exactly why. Strength alone doesn't make a leader. Max thinks ahead. He's the oldest. And honestly?"
He paused for a beat.
"If you two fought, my money's on Max."
Max leaned forward, his grin slow and knowing.
"It'd be like fighting a monkey that only knows how to throw fire."
Kael shot to his feet, face flushed with anger.
Max stretched his arms, his voice bored, almost uninterested.
"You just hurl flames without thinking. You're predictable. I'd figure you out before you even got serious."
Kael's fists tightened, his eyes flickering with heat.
"Ohhh, I see. You're just mad because your vitalforce is garbage."
Max raised an eyebrow, unfazed.
Kael's smirk returned, a flash of triumph.
"Yeah. You barely make sparks, and I can turn entire rooms into ovens. Sounds like jealousy to me."
"I let my brain do the heavy lifting."
Ash leaned back into the couch, his gaze drifting away from the argument.
'There's no point in stepping in. If I do, they'll turn on me next. I don't want that now.'
Max and Kael could argue for hours, their rivalry burning hotter than the flames they wielded. But Ash knew he didn't belong in their back-and-forth.
Max's flames were wild, eager. They roared to life at his command, twisting around his hands and feet, then exploding outward. His control was tight, each burst deliberate, but still, it lacked something. Something Kael had.
Kael's fire didn't just burn; it carved the air. Each flicker of flame was exact, a cutting force that could boil the air around it. His fire didn't hesitate or falter. It obeyed, like it was an extension of his will. Kael wasn't just using fire—he was mastering it, the heat radiating with the power of his Master Veinflow and Tier 6 Vitalforce. His flames felt alive.
Ash flexed his fingers, feeling the familiar warmth at his fingertips. A spark flared up, weak and uncertain, struggling to take form. It didn't last. Thirty seconds. That's all he got.
Initiated Veinflow. The lowest stage.
His flames sputtered and fizzled, unable to form the roaring bursts Max could summon or the controlled precision of Kael's fire. No matter how hard he tried, his veins refused to grow. His fire was reluctant—like it couldn't decide if it wanted to burn or just fade away.
He exhaled slowly, steady. It didn't matter. He'd already hit his limit. No amount of training would change that.
Because fire wasn't the only thing he could wield.
Lightning had been conquered. He could call it, shape it, control it like it was part of him. But Darkness—Darkness was different. It twisted, coiling at the edge of his consciousness, resisting. It never listened, never bent to his will. It held him back, caging him in Initiated Veinflow no matter how hard he tried to push.
That's why he'd picked up the blade.
Not because he preferred it. But because it was the only thing that didn't care about Veinflow. The only thing that didn't measure his strength in flames or power. The blade was about skill. Technique. Precision. Things he could control.
And one day, he'd be strong enough. One day, the blade would be enough.