PROJECT: CAYRO

Dr. Zaraki

October 22, 2025

17:01 EST

NAWC Clinic

Pigeon Forge, TN

I stared into the face of a man I once called a friend as he laughed, the sound a low, mocking rumble. “Heh, heh, heh… Not so different, are we, Howling Mad? Remember… I used to work for them. Did you really think they wouldn’t know exactly who and what you are?” His words dripped with venom, punctuated by the slow drip of blood from his mouth—a reminder of the pound of flesh I’d just taken. Worse still, the beating I’d delivered hadn’t fazed him in the slightest.

Narrowing my eyes, I locked onto his gaze. “What do you mean we aren’t so different, Jacob?” I growled, my voice dropping to a dangerous rumble. “And what do you mean they know who and what I am?”

He let out another manic chuckle, wrenching himself from my grip before righting one of the undamaged chairs and taking a seat. Despite his malicious grin, the strain was evident in his posture. Spitting another mouthful of blood onto the floor, he met my eyes with a defiant look.

“You think I befriended you all those years just by chance?” he sneered, a cold smile curling his lips. “No… not even close.” He leaned his head back, staring at the damaged ceiling as he drew in a deep breath. I stood there, confusion twisting through me as I tried to piece together where he was going with this.

“Howling Mad… I was assigned to befriend you,” he continued, his voice softer but no less cutting. “To figure you out, determine if you really were who they suspected. After years of your absence—years of souls not being collected—things changed. The powers that be noticed when the souls they were siphoning became scarce. It was strange, wasn’t it, when they realized the power they were harnessing was drying up?”

His words froze me. My exile—those thirty years trapped in the soul realm for my actions in 1949—was something only a handful knew about. How could he possibly know? The way he spoke, so casually, sent a chill down my spine. There was no way he could have known... unless...

“Ah, I see the light bulb’s finally clicked.” Bracton’s grin widened, becoming something more twisted. “Did you really think you could rid yourself of him that easily, Howling Mad?”

I closed my eyes, the memories of those years clawing at the edges of my mind. The sacrifices I’d made to stop what was coming... the price I paid. I gritted my teeth, refusing to let the memories drag me under, and focused on the man in front of me.

“That man—monster—abomination is dead, Bracton. I made sure of it. I watched him die before my very eyes.” The words came out as a snarl, forced through clenched teeth.

“According to who, Howling Mad? You?” he mocked, his voice dripping with disdain. “Because according to me—and the rest of the world—your old pal friend, Nicodemus, isn’t dead. In fact, he’s very much alive.”

My spine stiffened, talons curling into my palms. “And how would you know that?”

“Heh, heh, heh… who do you think made me into this?” He gestured at himself with a casual wave, eyes glinting with amusement.

I arched an eyebrow, my gaze narrowing. “Speaking of which, why don’t you have your soul anymore?”

He tilted his head, that manic grin never wavering. “Now, that’s a fascinating story, Howling Mad.” His eyes flicked to the side. “But we’ve got an audience. Why don’t you two come join us?”

I followed his gaze to the two people I had momentarily forgotten were in the room. I sucked in a deep breath, closing my eyes to steady myself. This wasn’t how I’d wanted this discussion to happen. Not now. Not like this. “Bracton…”

“Oh, it’s too late now, Howling Mad,” he cut me off, his voice gleeful. “They’ve already heard enough. Seen enough. Might as well tell them the full truth, don’t you think? Not just part of it. Besides, wouldn’t it be liberating to finally let your daughter in on the secrets you’ve been keeping?”

Every muscle in my body tensed, the urge to rip his head clean off almost overpowering. It was Star’s gentle touch on my arm that pulled me back from the edge. I looked down to see her eyes—those eyes that held so many questions, so much confusion—fixed on me.

“Father? What is he talking about? What does he mean you were absent?”

Damn it. There was no way around it anymore. Bracton’s smirk grew as he shrugged, his hands spread in a mocking gesture of surrender. I shot him a glare that promised retribution before turning to find three chairs still intact. Taking a seat, I gestured for Star and Cayro to do the same. Their hands were clasped together, their eyes fixed on me as they waited for the truth.

“Well, since you insist on having this discussion, Jacob, why don’t you go first?” I said, waving my hand, inviting him to begin.

“Oh no... this story needs context, and who better to provide that context, Howling Mad, than you?” he replied, arrogance dripping from every word.

I fixed Bracton with a flat stare, making no attempt to hide the fact that my patience was on a knife’s edge. One wrong move, and I’d end him.

“Oh, don’t give me that look, Howling Mad. We both know you won’t kill me—not now. Not when you’ve got questions you need answered.” Bracton smirked, as if daring me.

“Will the two of you stop beating around the fucking bush and just get to the point?” Cayro snapped, his frustration matching the fire in his eyes. I turned to see the same anger directed at me. Star, on the other hand, looked at me with a flat expression, lips pursed, eyebrow arched—waiting.

There was no going back now without causing more damage, especially when I needed Star to trust me. More than ever. Meeting both their gazes, I finally began.

“As you both already know, I am a Draconian. The only Draconian to ever exist—until you were born, Star.” I kept my voice level and calm, though anger simmered beneath my words. “What I haven’t told either of you is who I am and why I’m here on Earth.”

“Oh, this is going to be good,” Bracton commented cheerfully.

I snapped my head in his direction, growling. “Your commentary isn’t needed.”

“Oh, but it is. The irony of it all... it’s too good not to add commentary.” He grinned like a fool, and I was inches from his face when Star finally snapped.

“For fuck’s sake, Dad! Ignore him!”

Cayro muttered, “I thought Scuzball was bad, but now I’m beginning to see where he gets it from.”

Bracton’s eyes lit up. “My little creation lived? That’s fantastic!” he chimed, looking at Cayro with an unsettling cheerfulness.

“Focus!” Star commanded, her voice cutting through the chaos. “Dad, what are you?”

I exhaled sharply, annoyance lacing my tone. “A reaper…”

“A reaper?” they both echoed, confusion etched across their faces.

“The Master of Death, the embodiment of death, the caretaker of souls, the grim reaper…” Bracton answered for me, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

I stared at him, blinking slowly. He was dangerously close to pushing me past my limit. Only Star’s presence kept me from giving him a second round of what he deserved.

Star and Cayro’s faces remained slack, their eyes wide as they tried to process what they’d just heard. This... was going to be more complicated than I originally anticipated. With a sigh, I met their gazes.

“Exactly what Bracton said is correct. I am the Master of Death. I was placed here over two thousand years ago to be the arbiter of souls, ensuring that balance is maintained between the living and the dead.”

I could see I had broken them—at least temporarily. They just stared at me, their expressions blank, as if the weight of my words refused to register. Lifting my hand, I snapped my fingers in front of their faces. “Did the two of you hear what I said?”

Their faces morphed from shock to anger as Star gently grabbed my hand, pushing it down. “Yes, Father, we heard you. It’s just… a lot to take in, and we don’t even know where to begin. I guess the first thing I want to know is... you’re over two thousand years old?”

“Yes,” I replied, keeping my tone patient.

“How are you able to live that long?” Cayro asked, jumping in.

I shot a warning glance at Bracton, knowing he’d be eager to interrupt. “I think it’s best if we discuss that later, when we don’t have... present company,” I said, gesturing towards Bracton.

“Psst, please, Howling Mad. Little Jacob, I can answer that question,” the insufferable bastard chimed in, butting into the conversation. I pointed a talon at him in warning, but he had already captured their attention.

“Howling Mad here sacrificed his soul and bound it to the soul realm, granting himself immortality,” Bracton said, his tone dripping with snark.

A snarl escaped my throat as I bared my teeth. “That isn’t what happened…”

“How would you know what happened? You weren’t there.” Cayro jabbed, glaring at his father with open hostility.

“Ha, funny story. The person who was there—or at least around during that time—told me.” Bracton’s smug grin widened, clearly savoring his role in unraveling the truth.

"Well, obviously, he didn’t tell you the truth. That much is clear given your current situation.” I grumbled, curling my lip in disgust.

“Eh, you know how history changes over the centuries. It’s always written by the victors,” he shot back with a shrug.

“How about you spit out what my father means by you not having a soul?” Star snapped, her patience clearly at its limit.

Bracton snorted before a cold, humorless laugh escaped him. “You know what’s funny? When you start questioning those you work for, and they stab you in the back.” His eyes locked onto mine, as if accusing me of the betrayal.

I blinked, genuinely confused. “I didn’t stab you in the back, Jacob.”

“Oh, I’m not talking about you. You know exactly who I mean. It was him. He realized that we—well, more like I—wasn’t following his plans during the project. After Diana’s death, I started asking questions, wondering if we were really on the right side.” Bracton’s voice grew quieter, his eyes narrowing as he tilted his head, giving me a searching look.

I furrowed my brow, trying to make sense of his words. We had been friends once—closer than brothers, even. Hearing him admit he’d been on the other side all along made me question everything. Was any of it real?

“I can see the gears turning, Howling Mad. You’re wondering if our friendship was genuine or just an act. Here’s your answer: at first, it was an act. I was never meant to be your friend. The Nact wanted information—information only you possessed. But as I got to know you, things changed. And then came that day when you showed me what you truly were. That was a wake-up call. One of the most powerful beings in existence, standing right in front of me.” His eyes lit up, a dark gleam sparking in them as he recalled the memory.

“If I remember correctly, you tried to stab me,” I muttered irritably.

“Of course. Who wouldn’t try to stab their closest friend when they suddenly shift into a monster?” he replied, as if it were the most logical thing in the world.

“The only monster I see here is you,” Cayro muttered, his gaze drifting to the side as if he hadn’t said anything at all.

Bracton’s look spoke volumes; he wanted to lash out at Cayro for his disrespect. Star and I both fixed him with cold glares, daring him to make a move. Realizing he was outnumbered and outmatched, Bracton hesitated, then continued his story.

“You’re probably asking yourself how long I’ve been with the Nact. Well, here’s the kicker—since high school. Dear Sabastian and I were quite chummy back then. He was the one who introduced me to your old pal friend, Nicodemus. Of course, he doesn’t go by that name anymore. Oh no, he’s more modern now—Sabastian Voss.” He leaned forward, whispering the name like a revelation.

“Wait, you mean Senator Voss?” Cayro asked, his face a mask of confusion.

“Ah, the very same, Little Jacob. Voss raised Sirnic. Now you know… But the real question you’re all asking is what happened to my soul.” Bracton’s voice dropped to a cold, bitter whisper. “When I started investigating my wife’s death, I uncovered the truth. We were set up. The Nact didn’t like that you and I were friends, Howling Mad. The wreck... it was a warning, a reminder that they would get what they wanted, no matter the cost.”

“And what is it they want, Jacob?” I asked, my voice as serious as the pain that twisted deep inside me. Discovering the truth behind Kate’s death after all these years was like a knife to the heart. I glanced at Star. Her eyes were wide, and I saw tears beginning to form as the truth of her mother’s fate sank in.

“Control… Power… What you have,” he said, each word falling like a hammer. “To ensure that I delivered what they wanted, they tore my soul from my body. Encased it in this pendant.” He lifted the pendant, disgust twisting his features as he let it fall back against his chest.

“It wasn’t Sirnic who shut down the project. No. It was me. They tried to turn me into what you are, Howling Mad. They wanted another reaper—another grim enforcer—but it failed. Miserably. Without a soul, a human doesn’t have to worry about the morality of their actions. No guilt, no remorse. You should know. You don’t have a soul either.” His unhinged grin stretched across his face as he spoke, a look that made my claws itch for violence.

“The difference, Jacob, is that my soul is still part of my essence. It binds me to the soul realm…” I growled, my voice low and filled with warning. “That doesn’t make us remotely the same.”

“Eh, potato, potato… My point is, when a man’s soul is removed, those pesky morals don’t matter anymore. You can make decisions based purely on logic, no matter how morally grey or outright wrong they are. I made the project fail and made it look like Sirnic shut us down. Leaked valuable information to him. Let him think he got one over on me. After what they did… I wasn’t about to let them take my son from me. Not after they forced me to push him into the project…” Bracton’s voice dripped with a bitterness that was impossible to ignore.

I blinked, the weight of his confession settling over the room like a heavy fog. That last statement caught all of us by surprise. This cold, soulless man—who seemed devoid of any humanity—did all of that to protect Cayro? He sacrificed his own sanity to ensure his son’s survival? I was speechless. I knew I’d crossed moral lines in my time, but I did so knowingly, accepting the consequences. But Jacob—he had thrown away his morals entirely and didn’t seem to care. His ethics, his conscience—they were gone. I stared at him, slack-jawed, unable to find the words.

“You wanted to know why I used your DNA?” Bracton continued, his voice tight, eyes boring into mine as if daring me to challenge him. “Simple. It allowed the project to succeed. It was the bridge that stabilized Cayro’s augmentation. Without your DNA, the whole thing would have collapsed.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Cayro rise and walk out of the clinic, the door swinging shut behind him with a heavy thud. A moment later, Star stood up, her eyes searching mine. I gave her a quick nod, pulling her into a brief hug before she turned and followed Cayro out to the parking lot.

Turning back to Bracton, I locked eyes with him. “There’s no turning back, Jacob. The road you’re on is a dark and lonely path. Cayro won’t follow you—I won’t let him.” My words carried the weight of a promise, one I intended to keep.

Bracton simply grinned and shrugged, a hollow gesture that spoke of resignation. There was nothing more to say; he knew exactly what he had become. I closed my eyes for a moment, then stood and turned my back on the man who had once been my friend. I had come here to end him, but now, seeing him for what he truly was—a man who had lost everything and was willing to sacrifice what little humanity he had left for his son—I knew I couldn’t. When the time came, I would be there to collect whatever remained of his soul, and perhaps, offer him the peace he so desperately sought.

Stepping out into the parking lot, I found Star and Cayro waiting beside the skycar they had brought. Nearby, that hellion’s black beast of a Mustang idled, its engine growling like a predator. There was no way I was getting into that death trap again. Immortal or not, pain was still pain, and I’d rather avoid it when I could.

As I approached the skycar, Cayro opened the door and climbed into the back, leaving the front passenger seat for me. The gesture caught me off guard. When I glanced at Star, I saw the tear stains on her cheeks. She remained silent as I slid into the seat and shut the door behind me. She tapped the console, and the skycar roared to life. Scuzball’s familiar face flickered onto the screen as the vehicle began to move.

“Do you want to talk about it?” I asked softly, my voice barely above a whisper.

Star shook her head, her hair flaring slightly as she looked down at her hands folded tightly in her lap.

“Are you mad at me?” I asked, the words catching in my throat. Fear gnawed at me—fear that everything I’d revealed had shattered the fragile ground we’d built between us.

She shook her head again, remaining silent as the skycar glided through the streets back to Lyconotu Manor. The silence between us was thick, but not hostile—just heavy with the weight of everything unsaid. When we finally arrived, I stepped out quietly and waited for Star and Cayro to follow. Together, we walked toward the mansion. As we moved, I felt Star’s talons slip into mine, her fingers gently curling around my hand. She had shifted into her Draconian form. The gesture made something in my chest ache, and I gently squeezed her hand as we walked inside, Cayro close behind.

Inside, we were met by Lyra and Mr. and Mrs. Bracton in the foyer. They took one look at my expression, and the somber faces of Star and Cayro, and stepped back to give us space. Cayro moved toward his grandfather, standing quietly beside him. The two didn’t exchange words, but I sensed they needed their own moment—just as Star and I did.

“Do you have somewhere private and quiet where Star and I can… go?” I asked, my voice low.

Mrs. Bracton gestured for us to follow her without a word. She led us to a small sitting room that overlooked the mansion’s vast backyard, then turned to leave. When I tried to pull my hand away from Star’s, she held on tighter. I led her to the couch and sat down, offering the seat next to me. Instead, she climbed into my lap, curling up in my arms, her face burying into my chest. Her tail wrapped protectively around her as she settled against me. The gesture caught me completely off guard. Her lean, five-foot-five frame felt so small against my towering, seven-foot-six Draconian build.

It took me a few long moments to process what was happening. Finally, I wrapped my arms around her, cradling her gently, offering the comfort and sanctuary she needed. I took a deep breath, letting the moment sink in. It had been years since I’d held my daughter like this, and right now, she needed me more than ever.