MIGHT AS WELL BE OP

As the last remnants of the brutal competition faded from his mind, Anthony stood at the threshold of the Null estate, his form stark and imposing against the backdrop of the estate's tall, darkened walls.

His victory, though undoubtedly flawless, felt distant to him now.

It had been an unrelenting contest, a battle where the strongest prevailed, each of them fighting for the same bitter prize, their lives spent in a spectacle of blood and savagery.

And yet, Anthony had emerged without so much as a scratch, a strange tranquillity in the face of such carnage.

In a blink, Mitchelle and Irene had teleported to the estate, their arrival almost seamless, nothing more than a brief flicker of light before they stood beside Anthony, a comforting presence in the stillness of the night.

Mitchelle's gaze softened as she regarded him, eyes brimming with something close to maternal pride, yet tinged with the weight of unspoken concern.

Her hands, warm and steady, rested on his shoulders, grounding him in the present moment.

"Did you sustain any hidden injuries?"

Mitchelle's voice was a whisper, but it carried with the force of a mother's love.

Her eyes searched his form, seeking signs of any damage, no matter how small, yet she found none.

Anthony shook his head, his expression inscrutable.

"No, Mother. I'm unharmed"

"Are you sure?"

Irene spoke then, her voice quiet but piercing in its sincerity.

She had watched the competition unfold from afar, her concern for Anthony evident, yet she understood the burden of such power. Discover more stories at empire

"That was a ruthless contest, Anthony. You might have escaped unscathed physically, but... are you sure there are no lingering effects? Mentally, perhaps?"

Anthony looked at her, his eyes steady and calm.

There was no arrogance in his gaze, only a quiet certainty.

"The competition was nothing I couldn't handle. I fought as I always have, without hesitation. The battle didn't wear on me"

There was a pause as Irene studied him.

She had always known Anthony to be capable, but the sheer magnitude of his victory unsettled her.

It was not just that he had won, but that he had done so with such ease.

She, more than anyone, understood the toll that such power could exact on one's spirit.

She could not help but feel that Anthony's victory was less a triumph and more a reflection of how much farther his potential could stretch, how much farther he might yet go, and what that might mean for the world, and for them.

"You speak with such confidence"

Irene mused, her tone thoughtful.

"But you've fought many times before. This time, there was something different, wasn't there? You stood amongst the best of the best, and yet, you remained untouched. It was as though you had an... understanding of the battle that went beyond mere strategy"

Her gaze lingered on him, a mixture of curiosity and something softer, a deeper concern that she did not voice, but that lingered in her eyes.

"I woke up to these abilities"

Anthony replied simply, his voice even, though there was an edge to it, a subtle note of something older than his years.

"They came to me over time. In battle, I simply learned to listen to my instincts"

His words, though measured, carried a weight that Irene could feel, though it was impossible to fully understand the nature of his power.

He had always been gifted, yes, but now, there was something more about him. Something unsettlingly... final.

"Your instincts are beyond even the most seasoned warriors"

She continued, her voice heavy with a quiet reverence.

"And yet, how is it that you regenerated so quickly after you were stabbed? It was as if you were... impervious"

The question hung between them, a silent challenge to the mystery that was Anthony's newfound abilities.

"I awakened a skill"

He said, his eyes meeting hers with an intensity that spoke volumes.

"The ability to regenerate, to heal, no matter the wound. But it's not invulnerability, just an understanding of how my body works. I learned how to move beyond the limitations of flesh"

Mitchelle, who had been listening silently, finally spoke again, her voice more steady now.

"You've always had an innate skill for battle, Anthony. But this... this is different. It's as if you've grown far beyond what any of us could have imagined"

Anthony met his mother's gaze, his eyes unflinching.

"I didn't sacrifice anything to win, Mother. The battle wasn't about me pushing past any limits. It was simply that I knew how to play the game better than anyone else"

"And yet, there is no victory without consequence"

Irene added softly, her gaze now searching Anthony's face.

"You've won, yes, but it was a battle where the price was the lives of others. How will that weigh on you in the days to come?"

Before Anthony could respond, the air seemed to shift, and with a suddenness that startled even him, Michael appeared before them, stepping from the very fabric of space as though it were a natural extension of his body.

His gaze, intense and piercing, locked onto Anthony.

A flicker of pride flashed in his eyes, but it was quickly tempered by the gravitas of his words.

"You fought brilliantly"

Michael said, his voice low and commanding.

"There were moments when I thought your precision could have been finer, but overall, you've proven yourself far beyond my expectations"

He paused, scrutinizing Anthony with a rare intensity.

"But tell me this: How did you do it? How did you manage to perform like one far older than sixteen? I saw battle experience in your movements, a depth of knowledge I would expect only from someone who had fought for millenniums"

Anthony's gaze remained steady as ever, and his answer was simple:

"These are abilities I awakened over time, Father. Through experience, yes, but not through years. It was the battles themselves that taught me"

There was a long silence before Michael spoke again, this time softer but still filled with an undercurrent of concern.

"Your victory was a stroke of genius, Anthony. But be wary, for there will always be others who seek to test you. To challenge you. Do not grow complacent"

The tension in the air thickened as a crackle of energy surged through the ground, followed by the sudden appearance of Collins, his form materializing from a lightning bolt that split the sky.

He surveyed his surroundings, his sharp eyes scanning the group before locking onto Anthony.

His voice, when it came, was low but full of authority.

"Well done, boy"

Collins said, though his tone betrayed the undercurrent of something deeper, a quiet but unmistakable anger.

"But what's the cost of winning such a game? I've seen many battles, and I know the toll they take, even if you haven't yet felt it"

Anthony met his grandfather's gaze without flinching, his voice calm as ever.

"I won't let it break me, Grandfather"n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

Collins' expression softened, but only slightly.

"We'll see. You may have survived today, but remember, boy, that not every victory comes without consequences"

The words hung heavy in the air, each one seeping into Anthony's thoughts.

His family had always been protective, each of them holding a different piece of the world's truth.

And yet, in this moment, Anthony was becoming something new, a force not yet fully understood, even by those closest to him.