Odyssey Of Survival

Nate's gaze locked onto the man standing before him, his expression unreadable. He didn't want to hurt innocent people—not over Claire's lies, not over some ridiculous scheme. He took a slow breath, then spoke, his voice steady but firm.

"Do you actually believe I would do something like that?"

Silence.

Not a single person answered.

That was all he needed to know.

Their hesitation spoke volumes. Even those who had once trusted him, those who had fought alongside him, were now standing there, uncertain. The weight of Claire's accusation and the so-called evidence before them had already taken root. He could see it in their faces—some didn't want to believe it, but the torn clothes, Claire's fake tears, and the way Axel and his men had barged in as if waiting for the right moment had already sealed their judgment.

They didn't know what to think anymore.

Suddenly, movement in the crowd caught his eye. A familiar figure pushed through the gathering people, stepping forward with quick, purposeful strides. Alice.

Her presence alone sent a ripple through the tense atmosphere.

When she finally reached the front, she had already heard what was being said, but seeing the scene firsthand was different. The torn fabric hanging off Claire, the broken door, the accusing stares—it was all a twisted performance.

And Alice instantly knew the truth.

She didn't need time to think about it.

This had Claire written all over it.

There was no way Nate—of all people—would do something like that. Not him.

But before Alice could say anything, a sneering voice rang out from the crowd.

"Bitch, go away."

A heavy silence followed, the words slicing through the air like a blade.

Alice's expression darkened, her fists clenching, but before she could react, the same voice continued, filled with mocking disdain.

"If you wanna defend him, then be ready to be locked away too."

The moment those words reached Nate's ears, something inside him snapped.

His eyes burned.

Sparks of raw power crackled through his veins.

And before anyone could register what was happening, Nate vanished from where he stood—reappearing in front of the man who had spoken.

The man barely had time to gasp.

Nate's hand shot out, fingers closing around the man's throat with a crushing grip, lifting him off the ground like he weighed nothing. The man struggled, his legs kicking as his hands clawed at Nate's iron-like hold, gasping for air as his face turned red.

The room was dead silent.

Nate could feel it.

The fragile pulse of life beneath his grip.

So weak. So breakable.

It would be so easy—just a flick of his wrist, and the man's neck would snap like a twig.

For a brief moment, the temptation lingered.

Then, with a controlled breath, Nate shoved the man backward, tossing him aside like a discarded rag doll.

The man's body flew through the air before crashing onto a wooden table, splintering it apart beneath him.

Gasps erupted from the crowd.

But not because of the broken table.

Because of what—or rather, who—was behind it.

The crowd's shock turned to horror as they saw a familiar face slumped on the ground, barely conscious.

It was the man from that morning. The one Nate had argued with.

Beaten. Half-dead. Bound up.

Barely breathing.

The implication was immediate.

And devastating.

A murmur swept through the room like wildfire.

The last, tiniest sliver of belief they had in Nate disappeared instantly.

Of course, they all knew about the morning's argument. It had been nothing more than a verbal clash—a heated exchange at most. But now, this? This made it look like Nate had dragged the man to his room and brutalized him over nothing but a petty grudge.

Their doubts solidified into certainty.

He really was a monster.

He really had betrayed them.

Nate, however, remained eerily silent as he stared at the bound man, his expression unreadable.

Then, suddenly, he laughed.

A deep, slow chuckle that sent chills down the spines of everyone in the room.

And as he laughed, he started clapping.

The sharp sound of his hands meeting echoed through the cave, stunning everyone into a deeper silence.

It wasn't amusement in his eyes.

It was something else entirely.

Nate turned to Claire, his hands slowly coming together in a deliberate, mocking clap that echoed through the silent cave. His expression was relaxed, almost amused, as if he was thoroughly entertained by what was unfolding before him. Then, with a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, he spoke.

"I have to say, I'm impressed," he said, his tone light, almost playful. "How long did it take you to put this little plan together? A week? Two?" He tilted his head slightly as if genuinely pondering the answer.

A murmur rippled through the crowd, but before anyone could process his words, one of the men who had barged in with Axel stepped forward aggressively, his fists clenched. "Stop talking bullshit!" the man barked, his voice filled with anger and certainty.

But before he could get any closer to Nate, Alice stepped between them, her eyes blazing with cold fury. She turned to the crowd, her voice sharp and unwavering.

"Are you all seriously going to blindly believe Nate would do something like this when none of you were even here to witness it?" she asked, her icy glare sweeping across the gathered people. "Can't you all see that Claire and her goons are setting him up? Think for a second—why would Nate need to force himself on anyone, let alone someone like her?"

Claire gasped, feigning offense, but Alice ignored her, continuing. "You all know Nate. You know what he's done for us. Does this really make sense to you?"

But the man in front of her wasn't interested in reason. His face twisted in irritation, and he sneered as he jabbed a finger toward her. "Look around, Alice," he growled. "And then say again that Nate is innocent."

Alice opened her mouth to argue, but before she could say anything, she felt a firm hand on her shoulder. She turned her head slightly and saw Nate standing beside her, his expression calm but his eyes carrying a depth of understanding.

"Don't waste your breath, Alice," Nate said, his voice soft yet firm. "They've already made up their minds. I don't blame them for it, though. It's Claire and her little gang who set this whole thing up, and I walked right into it."

Before Alice could respond, Nate suddenly felt something—a shift in the air, the faintest flicker of movement. His instincts screamed at him, but the attack was already too close. A thin streak of energy shot toward him from the crowd. It was so sudden, so unexpected, that he barely had time to react.

With lightning-fast reflexes, he grabbed Alice and stepped back, barely managing to avoid the full force of the attack. But he wasn't fast enough. The energy struck Alice in the back, and she let out a pained gasp before blood spilled from her lips. Her body went limp in his arms, her breathing ragged.

The entire cave fell into stunned silence.

Nate's hands trembled as he slowly lowered Alice to the ground, his heart pounding. He quickly checked her pulse—she was still alive, but the attack had taken its toll. His jaw clenched. He turned his gaze toward the one responsible.

It was the same man who had insulted Alice moments ago. He stood there with a smug expression on his face, arms crossed over his chest. "If she wants to protect a psychopath and a rapist," the man said, his voice carrying a sickening arrogance, "then she should be ready to die with him too."

The words echoed through the cavern, but no one spoke. No one moved. All eyes were on Nate, waiting, watching, expecting him to react.

Nate didn't say anything at first. Instead, he gently brushed a few strands of Alice's silver-white hair away from her face, then pressed his hand lightly against her forehead. She had lost consciousness, but she was still alive. That was what mattered.

Then, out of nowhere, a small hand wrapped around his. A tiny voice whispered up at him, filled with pure fear.

"Nate… please… run," Ann pleaded, her little fingers squeezing his tightly. "They're going to kill you… Please, you have to run…"

His eyes softened as he looked down at her. This little girl, the same one who had been terrified of him when they first met, the same one who had spent nights crying after the horrors she had witnessed, was now begging him to run for his life. Because she believed in him.

A small, sad smile tugged at his lips. He ruffled her messy blonde hair gently, his fingers lingering for just a moment before he straightened up.

And the moment he did, the air in the cave changed.
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The pressure in the atmosphere thickened, the temperature seeming to rise and fall in an unnatural rhythm. Raw, untamed power seeped out of him, rolling off his body in invisible waves. But what made everyone truly freeze in place was the sheer murderous intent that followed. It was suffocating, like the cold grip of death itself tightening around their throats.

The entire cave trembled under the weight of it.

Claire, who had been playing the role of the helpless victim just moments ago, visibly paled. Her body shook, her breath hitching in her throat. The moment Nate's gaze landed on her, she felt her heart nearly explode from the pressure alone.

Axel's squad, who had been so confident moments ago, shifted uncomfortably. Their hands twitched toward their weapons, but none of them dared to move first.

Even the bystanders, those who had been uncertain where they stood in this whole mess, instinctively stepped back. Their eyes widened in sheer terror. They had never seen Nate like this before. They had never felt anything like this before.

Deep within the cave, far from the commotion, Ray was busy working on something, his hands skillfully carving into the materials he had gathered. Nearby, Jack and Ryder sat, watching him work, but the moment they felt the overwhelming killing intent that surged through the entire cave, they instantly stopped what they were doing.

Ray's hands froze mid-motion. Jack's eyes darkened. Ryder clenched his fists, his enhanced senses making him feel the weight of that murderous aura even more than the others.

Without a word, the three of them bolted toward the source of the disturbance.

Back in the main cavern, Nate stood motionless, his body radiating nothing but pure, unfiltered rage. His crimson eyes glowed faintly in the dim lighting of the cave, the flames within them barely restrained.

No one dared to speak. No one dared to move.

For the first time since the accusations had started, the people around him finally realized something.

They had all made a terrible mistake.