Project Superior: The Chronicles of the Unseen

Percival sat back, reminiscing about their childhood. He remembered how Jonathan always seemed to get into fights with other kids, which inevitably led to trouble.

Jonathan chuckled, embarrassed. "I didn’t fight just for the sake of it. I only went after those who bullied others."

Percival laughed. "Always the hero type, huh, Jona?"

Jonathan smirked. "At least I wasn’t flirting with every girl I saw."

Percival, a little sheepish, defended himself. "They came to me. I didn’t do anything to make them like me."

Jonathan shook his head with a grin. "That only makes it worse, Percy."

Percival joined in the laughter, then snapped his fingers. The world around them shifted and began to warp, revealing a tapestry of their childhood memories.

Scenes unfolded: the two brothers playing together, their parents, the ups and downs of family life, the countless squabbles and reconciliations. Moments of joy and sorrow flooded the space around them, painting their shared history in vivid colors.

Suddenly, one memory stood out: a much younger Jonathan playing in the rain near a set of stairs. Jonathan’s expression darkened—he remembered this day well. It was the day he slipped, injuring himself severely.

As the memory replayed, something new caught Jonathan’s attention. His younger self crouched by the stairs, watching raindrops, when—out of nowhere—young Percival appeared and gently pushed him.

Jonathan watched in disbelief as his younger self tumbled down, screaming in pain, his ankle sprained, bones fractured. The younger Percival stood at the top of the stairs, staring coldly at his fallen brother.

The scene faded into other memories, but Jonathan sat frozen, processing the revelation. He turned slowly toward Percival, who was calmly munching on an apple, seemingly oblivious.

"What... what was that, Percival?" Jonathan’s voice was tight with controlled fury.

Percival didn’t respond immediately, absorbed in watching the memories unfold. When Jonathan asked again, louder this time, Percival cut him off, pointing excitedly at another memory.

It was their parents' funeral.

The scene played out under pouring rain. Everyone wore black, mourning the tragic loss of their parents, Elizabeth and Benjamin, who were murdered in a brutal massacre involving gifted individuals. Jonathan watched his younger self weep uncontrollably, but young Percival stood stoic, showing no emotion.

Percival’s voice broke the silence. "Remember this day? The day our weak, pathetic parents were taken from us? Everyone cried, but not me. Not a single tear. Because they weren’t worth it."

Jonathan’s fists clenched, anger bubbling to the surface as Percival continued. "I learned that day how frail they were. How could gifted beings like us be raised by such... ants? I even hunted down their killer, thinking I’d feel something, but I didn’t. That’s when I realized—ungifted people shouldn’t exist at all."

Jonathan erupted, standing in fury. "How can you say that about our parents? They gave everything for us!"

Percival simply snapped his fingers, dissolving the illusion around them. He turned to face his brother, his calm demeanor eerily unshaken. "Do you think I’m joking? Have you ever wondered where I’ve been all these years?"

Percival’s eyes darkened as his tone sharpened. "Did you really think I was out there, living a peaceful life, marrying some princess, raising kids on a farm? No!" He slammed his fist into the wall, his voice rising with irritation. "I’ve been working tirelessly toward my dream. Unlike you."

He gestured around the room, his arrogance palpable. "Who do you think built everything you ungifted people use? The cars, the phones, the entire Industrial Revolution—those were my inventions."

Jonathan’s heart sank. "Is that why you’re here? To ruin what's left of our relationship?"

Percival’s smile twisted. "No. I’m here for something else. That ‘son’ you adopted... he’s my lab subject."

Jonathan froze. "What are you talking about?"

Percival chuckled darkly. "Your son, Xavier, isn’t just any child. He’s something far more... monstrous. And make no mistake—he belongs to me."

Fury ignited in Jonathan. "Don’t you dare call my son a monster!"

"Call him what you want," Percival replied coolly, "but Xavier was never meant to be yours. I never expected someone like you to end up with him, but I suppose it’s my fault for letting security slip at one of my secret bases."

Jonathan was reeling. But before he could react, Percival moved swiftly, approaching a portrait of Jonathan’s wife, Fyodora. He opened a nearby case, revealing a stunning blue gemstone. "The Fable Stone of the Ivanovich family," Percival mused. "A source of limitless power, and now it’s mine."

Jonathan's voice wavered slightly as he demanded, "What are you planning, Percival?"

Percival’s grin widened. "Remember when I said I’d eliminate the ungifted? This stone is key to that. I’ve built an empire, brother. And with this stone, I’ll burn the world before Xavier’s eyes, killing everyone he loves."

Jonathan’s blood boiled. "I won’t let you walk out of here with that stone."

Percival’s eyes gleamed with mockery. "Then stop me, brother."

Jonathan charged at him, only to find his fist passing through an illusion. Dozens of Percival’s clones appeared, mocking him. But Jonathan saw through the trick, grabbing the real Percival by the collar and landing a punch to his face, knocking the stone from his hand.

Before Jonathan could grab it, Percival twisted reality, distorting the room into a nauseating whirl of cubes. Jonathan staggered, and Percival took the opportunity to land a vicious blow to his ribs, making him cough up blood.

The two brothers clashed in a brutal exchange of blows, their battle fierce and unrelenting. But Percival toyed with Jonathan, always three steps ahead, savoring the fight.

As Jonathan struggled to his feet, battered from the one-sided fight with his superhuman brother, Percival smirked and casually tossed the Fable Stone into the air. "If you want it so badly," he taunted, "then take it."

The gem spiraled slowly downward, gleaming in the light. Desperate, Jonathan leaped to grab it—but it was exactly what Percival had planned.

With a sinister smile, Percival pointed his finger in a mock gun gesture, aiming directly at the gas tank behind Jonathan. In a chillingly calm voice, he whispered, "Bang."

The explosion was immediate and violent, obliterating the house in a massive fireball. Debris rained down as the structure crumbled, engulfed in flames.

From the wreckage, Percival emerged unscathed, not a single mark on him. He dusted off his shoulders with casual indifference, his eyes locking onto the figure of his nearly unconscious brother.

Jonathan lay in the rubble, the left side of his body horrifically charred, two limbs missing, barely clinging to life. Groaning in agony, he coughed up blood as Percival approached.

Laughing coldly, Percival looked down at him, his voice dripping with mockery. "Did you really think you could be the hero, Jonathan? Pathetic."

Jonathan didn’t respond. He lay there, groaning in agony, blood spilling from his mouth with every labored breath. The pain was unbearable, his body was broken and burned beyond recognition. All he could do was struggle to stay conscious as Percival’s cold laughter echoed around him.

Percival loomed over Jonathan's broken body, a twisted smile on his face. With a swift, merciless motion, he plunged his hand into Jonathan's chest and ripped out his heart. Jonathan gasped, his breath shallow, eyes wide with shock.

Holding the still-beating organ in his palm, Percival examined it with cold indifference. “This?” he said, his voice calm and dripping with malice. “This is the heart they say is so pure, so full of love?” He chuckled darkly. “It looks ordinary to me, brother. Just like any other.” He sighed, shaking his head. “I guess we’ll never know what made you so special.”

Jonathan’s voice, barely a whisper, broke the silence. “Why… why do you do this, brother?”

Percival turned slowly, his eyes narrowing as he met Jonathan’s gaze. “Why? I have always hated you.” His tone was calm, almost conversational. “Weak, powerless, and yet you were loved more than I ever was.” His lips twisted into a sneer. “But… I loved you,” Jonathan croaked, tears mixing with the blood on his face.

Percival scoffed. “Love? I don’t need your love. I don’t need anyone’s. What I want is power—absolute power. Power to crush the gods themselves, to rule over all creation.” His eyes gleamed with madness. “And I will stop at nothing until I achieve it.”

Jonathan, wracked with pain, managed to speak through gritted teeth. “You’re… insane. You’ll never succeed.”

Percival crouched beside him, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Oh, I’ve already succeeded more than you know. Remember Fyodora? Your beautiful wife?” Jonathan’s eyes widened in horror. “Yes… she didn’t just ‘contract’ the Black Death. I poisoned her, injected her with a toxin I created myself, right under your nose.”

Jonathan stared, speechless, the weight of Percival’s confession too much to bear.

“I had hoped it would kill the child too,” Percival continued, his tone casual. “But Violet survived. Pity she was born with those… disabilities. Still, watching Fyodora die was satisfying enough. The way she suffered, the life slowly draining from her eyes... now that was a sight worth savoring."

Tears streamed down Jonathan’s face, the pain of betrayal sharper than any physical wound. Percival gripped Jonathan’s jaw, forcing him to look into his eyes. “You always spoke of love as the light of the world,” Percival said, his voice venomous. “But now, brother, I will show you darkness. I will show you evil.”

With a brutal motion, Percival slammed Jonathan’s head against the wall. “And you’ll watch, from wherever you end up, as I make your son suffer. As I make them all suffer.”

He turned and walked away, his cruel laughter echoing through the burning wreckage. Percival left Jonathan to bleed out, helpless, as the house—once filled with the warmth of family, love, and cherished memories—was consumed by flames, reduced to smoldering ruins.

Outside the ruined house, Percival's henchmen waited for him, their uniforms immaculate despite the carnage.

"How did it go, my Lord?" Seraphina asked, her voice laced with anticipation.

“It was… delightful,” Percival said, a twisted grin on his face.

Glad to see her master enjoying himself after working tirelessly for so long, Seraphina smiled with satisfaction. She snapped her fingers, causing the bloodstains on Percival to disappear instantly.

With another snap, she secured Jonathan's heart and the Fable Stone in a safe container, while Yuto draped a lavish black coat over Percival's shoulders and handed him a cigar. Percival nodded in approval. "Ah, thank you, Yuto," he said as Seraphina lit the cigar with another flick of her fingers.

"You're welcome, my Lord," Yuto replied, standing proudly.

As he took a deep drag from the cigar, Percival's eyes narrowed slightly. "By the way, where are Heinrich and Sage?"

One of Percival’s henchmen, Raven, knelt and bowed her head in apology. "We sincerely apologize, my Lord. Sage and Heinrich said they would arrive with Grande Valhalla before you finished with your brother."

She then muttered under her breath, frustration lacing her tone. "Yet they aren't here... Those two know how to get on my nerves."

Percival chuckled. "No need to worry, Raven. Let them have their fun. After all, it’s only the beginning.”

Just then, Violet, Aleksander, and Xavier arrived home. Their eyes widened in shock as they stared at their childhood home, engulfed in flames, slowly burning to the ground.

"Father!" Violet and Xavier screamed in horror, realizing that Jonathan had stayed behind, refusing to celebrate the Day of Heroes with them this year.

Percival greeted them with an unsettling warmth, his smile wide and welcoming. "Ah, welcome back home, my niece and nephews. How was the Day of Heroes? Was it as amazing as always?" His tone dripped with mockery.

Aleksander, seething with fury, cut him off. "Why is our home in ruins? And where is our Father?" he demanded, his voice trembling with anger.

Percival greeted them with an unsettling warmth, his smile wide and welcoming. "Ah, welcome back home, my niece and nephews. How was the Day of Heroes? Was it as amazing as always?" His tone dripped with mockery.

Aleksander, seething with fury, cut him off. "Why is our home burning? Where is Father?" he demanded, his voice trembling with anger.

Percival’s sinister grin widened. "Oh, your father, Jonathan?" He casually lifted a see-through container, revealing Jonathan’s heart inside. "He's right here."

At that moment, a storm of rage surged through Aleksander. His body unleashed a violent red burst of energy, the force of which swept across the entire landscape, tearing through the air and shaking the ground. The farms around them shook under the oppressive energy.

Percival, unfazed, responded by activating his own dark aura. It clashed fiercely with Aleksander’s power, the pressure of their energies cracking the earth beneath them. Percival laughed maniacally, reveling in the chaos and mocking the siblings with every word.

But Aleksander knew he was outmatched. With sheer determination, he redirected his aura to shield Violet and Xavier, enduring the brutal onslaught of Percival's power, the force of it leaving him severely injured.

"You know," Percival said with a smirk, "I would love to continue this game, but I have more important matters to attend to. Besides, you might want to check on your father before he breathes his last."

As Percival’s black-and-gold aura overwhelmed Aleksander, he deactivated his power and looked up. The sky above began to crack open as if splitting apart. A bright beam of light illuminated the heavens.

In an instant, a massive golden city, larger than anything they'd ever seen, descended from the heavens. The flying city, made entirely of gold, cast a massive shadow over the land.

"Ah, there they are," Percival remarked with a pleased smile, turning his head toward the golden marvel in the sky.

Raven, finally seeing Heinrich and Sage's arrival, sighed in relief, her stress evaporating. She glanced up at the grand spectacle, thankful they had arrived before Percival's patience ran thin.

Through worm portals, legions of soldiers poured into the sky. Ships followed in waves, filling the air as Grande Valhalla, the golden city, extended a long and massive staircase made of pure gold. It descended majestically for Percival.

He and his henchmen ascended the staircase, greeted at the top by Heinrich and Sage, who knelt and bowed deeply. "Welcome back, my Lord," they said in unison.

Before stepping into the grandeur of the golden city, Percival turned his head one last time toward Xavier, his smile twisting into something more wicked. "See you soon, my dear Novus," he whispered with venom.

Xavier could only stare, speechless, as the weight of everything crashed down on him, his mind struggling to process the nightmare unfolding before his eyes.

As Percival and his army vanished in the blink of an eye, Aleksander and Violet sprinted towards the ruins of their now-razed home, Xavier trailing close behind.

When they reached the charred remains, horror gripped them as they saw the condition of their father.

Somehow still alive without his heart, Jonathan managed a bright smile as he saw his children, even through the agony wracking his body.

Xavier and Violet rushed to embrace him. Despite the unbearable pain, Jonathan gently stroked their heads and asked, "How was the Day of Heroes this year? Was it as wonderful as always?"

But his children could not respond. They only wept, their hearts torn with pain and sorrow.

Seeing their anguish, Jonathan tried to comfort them. "Don't cry, my beloved children," he whispered. "Daddy's alright."

Aleksander, choking back tears, knelt beside his father. "I'm sorry, Father," he said. "I wasn’t there to protect you. I should have been stronger."

Jonathan placed a trembling hand on Aleksander’s cheek. "Never say that, my son. You're not weak—you're strong. I am proud of you, of Violet, of Xavier. You are my greatest joy, the reason I still have hope in this world."

As the sky darkened and rain began to fall, Jonathan turned to Aleksander. "Take care of them," he urged. "Be the man your siblings need. Be strong, be good. Be the kind of people others can look up to—people who will bring light to this dark world."

With death looming closer, Jonathan smiled through tears. "Always remember, my beloved children," he said, his voice growing faint, "Daddy loves you... so much."

With his final breath, Jonathan drifted into peace, greeted by a radiant light. He awoke in a lush, beautiful field, confused but tranquil. As he lay on the soft grass, Fyodora’s familiar face appeared, looking down at him with a smile like an angel.

"Long time, no see, darling," Fyodora said, her voice soft and warm. "How have you been?"

Jonathan, speechless and overwhelmed, pulled her into a sudden, tight embrace. Fyodora blushed, startled by the intensity of his hug.

"I missed you so much," Jonathan whispered, holding her tighter.

Fyodora smiled gently. "I missed you too, darling."

Meanwhile, back in the ruins, Aleksander and Violet grieved over their father’s lifeless body. Violet refused to let go, her sobs tearing through the silence, while Xavier sat in stunned disbelief, the light in his eyes slowly dimming into despair.

Rage and sorrow surged within Xavier, his cosmic eyes glowing fiercely. The Visor of Time struggled to contain the energy building inside him, but it was futile. The power erupted from Xavier in a blinding burst, splitting the heavens and tearing through the clouds.

Aleksander and Violet were thrown back by the force, but they quickly scrambled to their brother's side.

Violet, despite the searing heat radiating from Xavier, wrapped her arms around him. "It’s okay, Xavier. Big sis is here."

Aleksander joined the embrace, his voice trembling. "We’re with you, Xavier. Always."

As Xavier regained control, he collapsed into sobs, unable to accept their father’s death. Aleksander and Violet held him close, offering silent comfort amidst the devastation.

Far away, in the grandeur of the floating Valhalla, Percival sat upon his immense golden throne. Feeling the surge of power from Xavier, he smiled to himself. "Ah, it seems the Visor of Time couldn't suppress the power of Xavier’s Eyes of New Genesis."

"What an interesting boy that Astrion Vessel is."

One of his loyal henchmen, Sage, approached and bowed deeply. "My Lord, forgive my impertinence, but why didn’t you kill Aleksander when you had the chance?"

Percival raised an eyebrow. "Why do you ask?"

Sage hesitated before replying, "You once said Aleksander was the most dangerous being alive, with the potential to disrupt your plans. If he reaches his full power and removes the limiters, he could become an unstoppable force."

Percival chuckled. "You’re not wrong, Sage. Aleksander’s potential is... vast. If he ever fully awakens it, he could easily surpass even the Seven Heroes, becoming the most powerful Herrscher in history—second only to Grand Emperor Julius."

"But I’m not concerned," he continued with a smirk. "I have my own way of dealing with that boy. Besides, wouldn’t it be far more satisfying to break him first—destroy him from the inside out before I end him?"

He leaned back on his throne. "Killing him outright would be boring. Breaking him will be... much more fun."

Pointing a finger at Sage, Percival teased, "You should learn to play with your food before devouring it."

Sage smirked and bowed his head. "Understood, my Lord. I’ll set aside my concerns about Aleksander."

"I trust completely in your judgment, Lord Percival."

Percival chuckled, pleased. "That’s the spirit!"