THE ARCANE: Birth of Revenge

Chapter 4

The headquarters of the Supreme Command rose like a steel tomb, vast and unyielding.

Long corridors stretched outward from the chamber, flooded with harsh, white light that bounced off reinforced metal and thick glass—materials engineered to withstand magic, explosions, and rebellion alike. Everything here was built to endure. To suppress.

The air was sterile, heavy with the scent of chemicals and ozone. Beneath it lingered something darker, faint but unmistakable—like scorched memories, erased and rewritten too many times to count.

At the center of it all, Kendric Von paced. Each step struck the floor with restrained violence, his boots echoing sharply through the chamber. His hands were locked behind his back, fingers clenched tight, knuckles pale. His jaw was rigid, teeth grinding as he moved, eyes burning with a fury that refused to cool.

The Lumen Chain was gone.

Again.

After years of planning, surveillance, calculated betrayals, and oceans of blood—it had slipped through his fingers at the final moment.

What tore at Kendric the most wasn’t just the failure. It was the humiliation stitched to it. A six-year-old child had outplayed him. He was the Supreme Commander—feared across regions, his name alone enough to still entire rooms. Empires moved at his command. Lives ended at his gesture. And yet a child had escaped his grasp.

The stain was irreversible. It was the kind of mistake Kendric Von did not forgive. Not in others. And certainly not in himself.

Behind him, Rowan was dragged forward. He fought viciously, teeth bared, body thrashing against the soldiers restraining him. His throat was raw from screaming, his voice hoarse but unbroken, fury pouring from him despite the pain.

“Let me go!” Rowan shouted, voice cracking as he strained against their grip. “You’re monsters! How could you...? You burned my home. You murdered my parents!” The words echoed through the chamber.

But Kendric did not react. He did not flinch. His expression remained cold, carved from stone, as if Rowan’s anguish was nothing more than background noise.

Around Rowan’s neck rested a device. A smooth, dark metallic collar—etched with faint, glowing sigils that pulsed in response to his rage. Each surge of anger made the symbols flare brighter, and with it came the low hum of suppression.

The compression necklace tightened invisibly, choking back whatever dormant powers that was inside of him. One among thousands of Dr. Brett’s designs.

Widely regarded as the most brilliant scientific mind within the base, Dr. Brett had engineered nearly every preservation system lining the chamber, along with most of the arcane-synchronized machines used in war. Steel and sorcery obeyed his equations. Magic bent when science demanded it.

For years, he had overseen the systems that preserved Clara—Kendric’s wife, ensuring the machinery never faltered and the arcane balance remained intact. Where others saw impossibility, Brett saw parameters to control. Kendric relied on him for what others could neither understand nor contain.

No one yet knew what Rowan or Kael were capable of. Their magic had not manifested. But Dr. Brett had learned long ago that power did not always awaken gently. Rage was often the trigger. And tonight? rage was overflowing.

Kendric stopped pacing. Slowly and deliberately, he turned. He stepped closer, studying Rowan the way one assessed a failed experiment.

“Your parents are dead,” Kendric said flatly. “Your home is ash,” Kendric continued, voice steady and unfeeling.

“And you?” He leaned in slightly, his shadow crawling over the boy’s face. “You’re still screaming.”

A ripple of laughter spread through the soldiers.

“He screams like a wounded animal,” one of them said, chuckling.

“More like a little brat,” another cursed.

“Kael will find you,” Rowan growled, voice shaking with fury.

Kendric smiled. Not warmly. Not with amusement. It was a savage, delighted curl of the lips—like a predator savoring the moment before the kill.

“And when he does...” Rowan continued.

“Your brother ran away, boy.” Kendric cut in, his voice darker than his soul. “He left you behind. To die. All… alone.”

“No, he didn’t,” Rowan snarled, teeth clenched. “He escaped your evil ass. And when he comes back, he’ll burn this place to the ground.”

His voice rose, raw and slightly fearless. “No one will escape. Not you. Not your soldiers. Not even your gods.”

Kendric stepped further, even closer now. A slow, evil smile curved his lips.

“I shot your brother,” Kendric said calmly. A lie, delivered like truth.

Rowan flinched. His mind scrambled, clawing through the last fragments of memory. Kael running. The portal yawning open. Kendric firing again and again, the muzzle flashing like lightning in the dark.

Had a bullet slipped through before the portal sealed?

Had it hit Kael?

The thought struck like a crushing wave. Heavy and suffocating.

Was he the only one left now?

Rowan’s chest tightened, breath coming shallow, the image of his brother burning behind his eyes. But he refused, he refused to give Kendric the satisfaction of seeing him shatter the way his parents had.

“That’s a lie…” he muttered, voice low, unsteady but defiant.

Then he looked up and screamed, rage cracking through his fear. “You f*****g liar! Get away from me!”

Kendric laughed. A soft, amused sound that echoed through the chamber like a blade dragged across stone.

“Hilarious,” Kendric said. “You think I’m lying.” His gaze drifted lazily to the soldiers lining the room.

“He thinks I’m lying,” Kendric added, pointing at Rowan as the soldiers laughed uncontrollably. he began to pace, his boots striking the floor with deliberate calm.

“Hmmm... I like this one,” Kendric continued, stopping in front of him again. “Sharp-tongued. Just like his mother... Poor thing.”

He crouched slowly, fingers snapping around Rowan’s chin, forcing his face up. Rowan’s eyes locked with Kendric’s—cold, merciless gaze, a storm with no mercy at its center.

“Too bad you think being sharp-tongued makes you powerful,” Kendric whispered, venom saturating every word.

“It doesn’t.”

His grip tightened. “It makes you look stupid… and weak.” A pause followed, allowing the silence stretch.

“Pliable.”

Kendric leaned closer, his breath brushing Rowan’s face.

“A pawn, for people stronger than you.”

Then, he straightened abruptly. “Kill him.”

The soldiers tightened their grip, ready to execute the last order as Dr. Brett stepped forward.

“Perhaps he can be more useful to us than death.”

Kendric froze. Slowly, he turned his head, eyes narrowing. Dr. Brett adjusted his gloves, unbothered by the tension.

“The child is gifted. You sensed it yourself, that... volatility, that raw potential.”

Rowan laughed bitterly. “I’ll never work for you.”

Brett ignored him. “How about we make him a soldier,” Brett continued evenly, “And use him against his own brother? We can fetch the Lumen Chain without breaking a sweat.”

Silence fell.

Kendric stared at Rowan—really stared this time. Then he chuckled.

“A gifted magic soldier…” Kendric murmured, excitement creeping into his voice. “How genius, Brett.”

Rowan recoiled. “You’re sick. You're a monster.”

Kendric turned back to him, eyes gleaming. “Don’t worry, boy. Henceforth, I’ll be your new muse. I’ll erase any memory of the things you’ve seen tonight. You’d make my work even easier.”

Rowan screamed again, heavier this time but with obvious fear in his voice. “Kael will destroy you! He’ll find me... and when he does, this place will burn! Pray you’re dead before he gets here!”

Kendric’s smile vanished.

“Enough.” he yelled.

Then gestured sharply. “Put him in the machine.”

They dragged Rowan, screaming toward the chamber at the center of the room. The memory erasure device waited—an arcane-mechanical monstrosity of cables, sigils, and humming crystal conduits. Designed not just to erase memories—but to dissect them.

Rowan struggled harder as they strapped him down.

“No! Stop! Mom...! Dad!”

The machine activated. Light flared. Rowan screamed as memories tore through him.

Kael holding the bracelet.

Thunder outside Westfield.

Fire.

Gunshots.

Blood.

Every moment peeled away, and ripped from his mind one by one as he screamed. No page was left unturned. Kendric watched without blinking.

When it was over, Rowan collapsed. All he could see were blurred white—harsh lights bleeding into one another, accompanied by the distant, mechanical beeping of machines.

Silence followed.

Then, suddenly. He opened his eyes slowly.

“Where… where am I?”