Extra To Protagonist

The rain hadn’t stopped.

It came down harder now, washing the city in a ceaseless rhythm that drowned out everything else. From the rooftop of Invoke Tower, the skyline was a shifting sea of glass and light, blurred behind the storm. Wind tore at Merlin’s coat, dragging at his hair, but he didn’t move.

He stood near the ledge, eyes narrowed, watching the faint glow of a landing pad across the tower. A single figure stood there, Damien Cross. No guards. No backup. Just him, umbrella held loosely in one hand, untouched by the chaos.

Merlin approached.

Each step echoed faintly over the pounding rain, the sound carried by wind and lightning. When he reached the midpoint, Damien turned.

"Mr. Everhart," he greeted, voice steady, perfectly audible despite the storm. "You made better time than I expected."

Merlin stopped a few meters away. His gaze was sharp, his tone quiet. "You knew I’d come."

"I hoped you would." Damien’s expression didn’t shift. "It’s rare to meet someone who still values curiosity over comfort."

Googlᴇ search 𝘯𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭·𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘦·𝘯𝘦𝘵

"Curiosity," Merlin repeated flatly. "That what you call detonating your own data core?"

Damien’s smile was faint. "A precaution. Invoke has more eyes than I prefer. I had to make sure what I built couldn’t be turned against me."

"You mean what you stole."

The older man tilted his head. "Stolen knowledge is still knowledge. What matters is who wields it."

Merlin’s jaw tightened. The wind whipped between them, cold and sharp.

"You’re playing with something dangerous," he said. "Whatever’s in those diverted cores, it’s not just weapon tech. What’s the endgame?"

Damien studied him quietly for a moment, the rain sliding across the brim of his umbrella.

"Tell me, Mr. Everhart," he said at last. "When you look at this city, what do you see?"

Merlin’s brow furrowed. "You’re deflecting."

"Answer the question."

Merlin glanced out across the skyline, towers piercing the fog, light spilling from windows like veins of gold. "I see a place built on ambition. On desperation. Everyone reaching, nobody looking down."

Damien nodded slightly. "Exactly. A city of builders standing on ruins they never stop to understand. That’s what Invoke became. And that’s why I stopped trusting Kael long ago."

He took a slow step closer, eyes glinting under the stormlight. "You think you’ve seen corruption? You’ve seen efficiency. But underneath, this company feeds on conflict. Every weapon, every contract, every policy, it’s a cycle of profitable chaos. I just accelerated the inevitable."

Merlin’s gaze didn’t waver. "You’re rationalizing."

"I’m surviving," Damien said evenly. "There’s a difference."

Lightning cracked across the horizon, illuminating his face, calm, unflinching, like a man entirely certain of his place in the world.

"You remind me of Kael when he was younger," Damien continued, voice lowering. "Sharp. Calculating. Thinking power meant control. But power without perspective is a leash. You think your eight percent means something? You’re still a piece on his board."

Merlin’s golden eyes flickered faintly in the lightning. "Maybe. But at least I know it."

Damien’s lips curved, almost approvingly. "That self-awareness might save you. Or get you killed. Depends who notices first."

Merlin took another step forward. "You wanted to test me. You got your answer. Now you’re going to tell me where that diverted energy went."

"And if I don’t?"

Merlin’s voice dropped. "Then I’ll find it myself. You can decide whether you want to be a witness or collateral."

For the first time, Damien’s gaze sharpened, faint amusement replaced by something colder. "You’re young, but not naïve. That’s... interesting."

He reached into his coat and pulled out a small, metallic capsule. He turned it in his fingers once before tossing it lightly toward Merlin.

Merlin caught it without breaking eye contact.

"What is it?"

"Coordinates," Damien said simply. "A warehouse on the western edge of the lower industrial district. What you’ll find there, depends on how deep you’re willing to go."

Merlin turned the capsule once, feeling the faint hum of embedded mana inside. "Why give this to me?"

"Because Kael won’t listen to me anymore," Damien replied. "And Regina... she’s too loyal to see past the numbers. You, however—" He paused, studying Merlin like a puzzle. "You’re not beholden to anyone yet."

"You’re trying to recruit me."

Damien chuckled softly. "No. I’m trying to make sure that when the storm comes, there’s at least one person left who understands what’s at stake."

"Meaning?"

He met Merlin’s gaze squarely. "Invoke’s weapons aren’t just for armies anymore. Kael’s been selling prototypes to private buyers, off the books. The kind of people who don’t lose wars, because they start them."

Merlin’s eyes narrowed. "And you just let him?"

"I tried to stop him," Damien said quietly. "That’s what the diversions were for. A failsafe. A way to track every shipment. Every illegal buyer. But Kael caught on faster than I anticipated."

He smiled faintly. "So, I changed tactics. Sometimes, to expose rot, you have to let it spread first."

The wind howled between them, cold and heavy with rain.

Merlin’s hand tightened around the capsule. "If you’re telling the truth, then what’s next? What do you gain by giving me this?"

Damien looked past him toward the skyline, his voice quieter now. "If Kael finds out I spoke to you, he’ll erase me. So consider this... an investment. You’ll either clean the mess I couldn’t, or you’ll die trying. Either way, the company will shift."

"That’s not a plan," Merlin said flatly. "That’s surrender."

Damien’s smile returned, calm, almost weary. "You’ll understand someday. There’s a difference between control and influence. Control dies with the hand that holds it. Influence survives long after."

He turned, starting toward the waiting transport pad.

"Kael will summon you soon," Damien called over the wind. "He’ll ask about tonight. Tell him what you want, he’ll believe you, because he needs to. But remember this—"

He glanced back, his eyes gleaming faintly beneath the rain. "No one builds a weapon without expecting it to turn."

Lightning flashed again, and for a heartbeat, the rooftop was empty.

Merlin blinked once. The transport pad was silent, the rain unbroken. Damien was gone.

Only the capsule remained in his hand, cold against his palm.

He looked down at it, then out over the endless city, the veins of light stretching to the horizon, the pulse of engines and life and greed.

A storm was coming. Not the kind that washed away. The kind that cleansed by force.

Merlin slipped the capsule into his pocket and turned toward the stairwell.

As he walked, his thoughts turned over like stones in a river. Damien’s words, Kael’s shadow, Regina’s warnings. All of it circling around one truth: he was in too deep to walk away now.

Not that he ever planned to.

When he reached the rooftop door, thunder rolled once more, deep, rolling, inevitable.

Merlin paused, glancing back one last time at the city he was supposed to only read about.

Now it was his.

His problem.

His story.

He exhaled, faintly smiling. "Let’s see what’s buried, then."

And with that, Merlin Everhart disappeared into the storm.