Lukas didn't care how he got here. He didn't feel good about himself.
"What are you standing there for? Attack him! Get him out of our house!"
The security personnel moved, professional training overriding their confusion. They are afraid, but they can't seem to delay their orders.
They raised weapons, advanced with coordinated precision, and prepared to subdue or eliminate the threat.
Jorghan raised his hand, and red light gathered at his fingertips.
The beams that shot forth were condensed mana, compressed into projectiles that moved faster than bullets and hit with devastating force. Each beam found its target with perfect accuracy, punching through tactical vests and flesh with equal ease.
The guards dropped, all twelve of them, dead before they hit the marble floor. Blood pooled beneath their bodies, spreading across white stone in abstract crimson patterns.
The family stood frozen, staring at the corpses, at the casual display of impossible power.
This wasn't a weapon they recognized.
This wasn't technology or conventional violence. This was something else entirely, something that violated their understanding of what was possible.
Jamie found his voice first. "What... what are you? What the fuck are you?"
"Why are you coming after us? What did we do to you? How did you come from that planet?"
"They said it wasn't possible."
"I'm your nephew," Jorghan said calmly, as if he hadn't just killed a dozen men.
"Or I was. Your brother's son, the heir to the Moorne family empire. The one you and Grace murdered so you could take everything for yourselves."
Scarlett stepped forward, moving past her frozen father and stepmother with surprising confidence. Her expression was complex—shock.
Scarlett's head snapped toward Jorghan, her eyes wide. "What? How did you know about—"
She wasn't sure what he was talking about, but when she heard the last part, Grace's son had been murdered.
Her cousin, who was the head of the Moorne family, had died, and after his death her father had brought her here, marrying her supposed aunt.
She always found it suspicious that both of them were responsible for the death of her cousin.
But how was Jorghan aware of it?
She looked perplexed, while Lukas looked like he was completely unaware of it.
But Jorghan was already moving, walking toward Jamie and Grace with measured steps.
Lukas shifted into what he probably thought was a fighting stance, his young body tense with fear and false bravado.
"Calm down, little Lukas," Jorghan said without breaking stride.
"Let me tell you a little story about your past. About the foundation this family is built on."
"About how you got all these luxuries."
He stopped a few feet from Grace and Jamie, close enough to see every micro-expression, every tell of fear and guilt written across their faces.
They didn't understand how Jorghan was aware of it. They just stared in disbelief.
They had completely forgotten about what they did and were living their lives happily.
"Your father," Jorghan said, looking at Lukas, "killed a young man who worked hard to build everything you're living in now. This rich life, this wealth, this mansion, all of it. And your dear mother—" he shifted his gaze to Grace, "—poisoned her own son. She took out all her anger at her husband on a boy who was nothing but good to her."
Grace made a strangled sound, her hand covering her mouth.
Jamie's face had gone grey, all the blood draining from it.
Jamie stuttered, "Who…ar-are you? Who are you really?"
"I am that son," Jorghan said, his voice cutting through the foyer like a blade.
"I am the one you killed. I died here, in this house, eighteen years ago. And I was reborn in another world—the world you came to."
Silence crashed down like a physical weight.
Lukas shook his head, backing away. "That's... that's insane. That's not possible. People don't just—"
"Eighteen years ago, you'd be right," Scarlett interrupted, her voice thoughtful.
"But now? With everything that's happened? The dimensional breaches, the technology transfers, the reports of impossible phenomena?"
She looked at Jorghan with new understanding. "If reincarnation across dimensions is possible, you'd be the proof."
Grace stood slowly, her legs shaking, but her gaze locked on Jorghan's face.
She was studying him now, really looking, and he could see the moment recognition finally clicked. Not in his features—those were completely different—but in something deeper.
The way he stood.
The cadence of his speech.
Small gestures that were uniquely his.
"Son?" she whispered, her voice breaking.
"My son? My baby?"
"Don't," Jorghan said sharply.
"Don't you dare call me that. You gave up the right to call me your baby when you put poison in my food."
"You are unfit to be even called a mother."
Grace flinched as if struck, but she didn't look away. "I... I didn't want to. You have to understand, I didn't want to—"
"Then why?"
The question exploded from Jorghan with more force than he'd intended. The glass around them shattered, and all of them flinched in shock.
"Why, Grace? What did I do? What crime did I commit that deserved death?"
"You didn't do anything!" Grace said, her voice rising to match his.
"You didn't do anything wrong; you were perfect, you were kind to me, you were everything a mother could want in a son, and that made it so much worse!"
"But I couldn't get past the shadow of your father. Every time I looked at you, I saw him."
She took a shaky breath, and when she spoke again, her voice was steadier but thick with years of suppressed emotion.
"Your father. Every gesture, every smile, every decision you made—it was like watching your father reborn. And I couldn't... I couldn't live through it again."
"I wasn't him," Jorghan said, but there was uncertainty in his voice now.
"You were becoming him," Grace countered.
"Maybe you didn't see it. Maybe you couldn't see it because you loved him, because to you he was this larger-than-life figure, this strong man who built an empire. But I saw what you couldn't. I saw the way you handled problems with violence first. I saw how you compartmentalized people into useful and disposable. I saw how you learned to turn off your empathy when business required it."
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