"Breathing hurt.It always had."
Ash stood alone in a dimly lit chamber, unmoving.
He had black hair a mask always covering his facial features.
His body was still as stone except for the slow, controlled rise and fall of his chest. The mask covering his face concealed most of him, but it couldn’t hide the quiet strain behind every breath.
Inhale.
A faint internal pressure formed every time he exhaled, followed by a soft, mechanical hiss that came from the mask, he thought as he held it.
"Stable and controlled... But inside, every breath carves through me. Not enough to break me... just enough to remind me....you are still alive, and it still costs you."
It always brought him back. To that room with dim lighting and stale air....The quiet, uneven breathing of a man who no longer had time.
Ash’s eyes lowered slightly behind the mask as the memory surfaced, clear and uninvited.
"My father lay on the bed... frail, unmoving, nothing like the man he once was. The strength that used to define him had faded, replaced by something fragile... temporary. I stood beside him. I was smaller then. I was silent, unsure of what to say....But I understood enough to know that this was the end.
Another man stood across from me and my father. He was still, composed, and watching us...Markus’s father. The head of the Cain Foundation. A man whose presence alone carried weight.
’I don’t have much time,’ my father had said, his voice was weak but steady.
Markus’s father didn’t interrupt at all. He just observed.
I remember the feeling of my father’s hand gripping mine. It was weak, but intentional.
’Ash...’
’I’m here,’ I had said immediately.
’You have to live,’ my father told me. ’Not just survive... live.’
Then my father looked past me to Markus’s father. Something passed between them, history they shared. Trust they had formed.
’Take care of him,’ my father said. It was not just a request, but a command shaped by desperation.
’He won’t make it on his own,’ he said.
Silence followed, and it was heavy.
Markus’s father stepped forward. ’He won’t be alone.’
I never cried. I just stood there, holding onto a hand that slowly lost its strength... until the moment it didn’t move anymore."
That was the day everything changed. The Cain Foundation became his world, Its walls, its rules, its purpose and Markus, who was already there. Not a brother by blood, but something else.
He inhaled, and pain shot through his body as Ash returned to the present.
His breathing remained steady, but each cycle still carried that same weight.
"Defective," he thought quietly.
"If Markus’s father hadn’t taken me in, if that promise had never been made... I would have died....Because of this.
The Mark 8 didn’t fix me. It weaponized my flaw.
Every time I inhale, it creates something unnatural. Microscopic crystalline structures form deep within my lungs, tiny, precise, and deadly... diamond.
At first, it had been unbearable."
He remembered the early days.
"The first time I tried to breathe normally after the infection... well, as normally as I could with hyperventilation and asthma. The pressure... and the sharpness. The quiet realization that something inside me was wrong. Irreversibly wrong, and they had to adapt.
Tubes were inserted into my lungs, and filters were installed. A system designed to intercept the crystalline formations before they could fully embed.
Even then... it didn’t remove the pain. It just regulated it.
I would inhale, and the formation of those tiny diamonds would occur. Then I would exhale, and the extraction would occur, transferring the diamonds into the tube and into a container behind my back.
A cycle I would repeat for the rest of my life, but I accepted it without hesitation.
Because it came from them...From Markus... from the foundation that kept me alive."
The door behind him opened.
Ash didn’t turn. He already knew.
"You’re pushing your breathing again," Markus said.
Ash remained still. "It remains functional."
Markus stepped closer. "That’s not what I asked."
A pause.
"Every breath still hurts," Ash said plainly.
Markus studied him. "You knew the risks."
"Yes," Ash replied.
"And yet you accepted it," said Markus.
Ash’s fingers tightened slightly. "Because it was natural selection."
Silence followed.
Markus’s gaze sharpened slightly. "You’re sooo loyal."
Ash didn’t respond, because that word wasn’t enough.
"This wasn’t loyalty... this was purpose," Ash thought.
"Without you," Ash said quietly, "I would have died."
He inhaled slowly. Pain followed.
"Now I continue because of it."
Markus turned slightly. "Come."
The testing field stretched wide under the open sky.
The sun burned overhead, heat rising from the ground in subtle waves. The air was dry and thin, conditions that affected airflow, pressure, and movement.
Ash noted all of it instantly."Temperature, wind direction, distance hmmm all variables are accounted for."
Markus stood across from him... relaxed but ready.
"Show me," Markus said.
Ash inclined his head. "Understood."
Markus advanced first in a direct line."This should be efficient, since it’s just testing."
Ash moved away, running in a zigzag while breathing heavily.
Markus caught up and threw a straight punch. Ash saw it coming."There it is, the hip."
He raised his left hand, threw a punch with the left hand, then grabbed Markus’s hand with his right hand and threw him down.
"A minimal movement was enough," said Markus. "I see... let’s go again."
Ash said, "Okay, sir."
Ash grabbed some rubble and started throwing it toward Markus while creating space.
"Let’s see how Markus deals with this... I just have to see it once."
"He’s measuring reaction speed," Markus thought. "Then let me speed up."
Ash saw this and thought, "Hmm, good. It’s time for me to adjust so that I can rage bait him into making mistakes."
Ash’s breathing slowed further.
"Not yet," he thought.
Ash increased his speed while running toward Markus.
He stepped off-line, forcing Markus to adjust his angle. Each movement was precise, calculated down to the smallest detail.
"Every movement has purpose... every pause has meaning," Ash thought.
Markus lunged forward with a kick, and Ash dodged it.
Then he created distance.
Markus stopped.
"...Now."
Ash tilted his head slightly.
The mask shifted.
A small compartment near his jaw opened with a quiet click.
He exhaled. The shards emerged.
Tiny diamond fragments slipped into the air, catching the sunlight for only a moment before dispersing.
But they didn’t fall... they curved.
Ash stood there."Let me adjust my breathing. Short bursts. Precise control..."
The shards responded. They followed the pressure of the wind and its direction.
They arced outward... then shifted mid-path.
Markus tracked them.
But Ash had already calculated that.
The shards changed direction sharply and struck.
Multiple impacts hit across Markus’s back.
Markus stepped forward slightly... then stopped.
Ash’s breathing slowed. Then the compartment closed.
"Markus," Ash said quietly, a rare break in his composure, "did I miscalculate?"
Markus straightened. "It’s fine."
"You adjusted trajectory mid-release," Markus continued. "That level of control is rare."
Ash lowered his gaze slightly. "It was not intended to strike that deeply."
Markus turned toward him. "And yet it did."
A pause.
"You are a strong ally, Ash." Markus said as blood stained his suit. Markus had gotten impaled by the diamond shards that Ash had dispersed.
The words settled.
Ash inhaled again, and pain followed.
But it didn’t matter.
"Your design made this possible," he said.
Markus didn’t deny it.
"You turned your flaw into a weapon," Markus replied.
A voice emerged from the shadows.
"Markus is right."
Another figure stepped forward, partially concealed, observing.
"You’ve made more than just one weapon," the figure continued.
They lifted a hand slightly. Something gleamed faintly.
"You made one for me too."
Ash’s gaze shifted.
"Your work extends further than you think," the figure said.
Markus remained calm, unmoved.
He inhaled, and pain surged....he exhaled with control.