When The System Spoils You For No Reason-Chapter 43 - Forty Three

"Blood makes you related. Loyalty makes you family."

— Chris Diaz

...

"She say do you love me, I told her only partly..."

The boys sang at the top of their lungs, their voices competing with the deep, thrumming growl of the mana-truck’s engine as it barreled across the alien landscape. Kai was half-hanging out the passenger window, letting the wind tear through his hair, while Jude kept a steady grip on the oversized steering wheel, navigating with surprising finesse. The air rushing past smelled of ozone, hot metal, and something that felt dangerously like freedom.

"Hey, what’s that?" Kai shouted, jabbing a finger ahead toward where the terrain dipped into a shallow, mist-filled basin.

"Looks like a person," Aaron called from the back, squinting against the kaleidoscopic light.

"Of course it is a person. Would a monster wave like he’s hailing a cab?" Kai pulled himself back inside as Jude downshifted, the truck’s massive tires crunching to a slower roll over the chiming gravel.

Hehe. This is getting interesting, Zeke thought from his perch on the truck’s roof, a wide grin spreading across his face as he watched the lone figure ahead.

...

It had been two days since the boys launched their reign of terror in the truck, and they had already become living legends among the hunters of The Expanse. A new kind of predator had entered the food chain.

They bullied, pillaged, and battered anyone who dared challenge their passage. Their signature move: spot a group locked in a desperate struggle with a monster, roar in, dispatch the creature with brutal efficiency, then collect a "tax" for the unsolicited service. They had become a natural disaster with a six-wheeled chassis.

After some internal debate, they’d settled on a twisted code of honor. They didn’t strip their victims clean—just took a significant percentage. Enough to sting. Not enough to provoke a suicidal last stand.

At the laughing, unhinged heart of it all was the Mad Dog, Zeke: relentless and savage to the bone. In the past forty-eight hours, he had personally beaten three young masters within The Expanse. This tally notably excluded Enel Aurelius, whose defeat now seemed almost dignified by comparison.

His list included the young mistress of House Silvanus—who had made the mistake of calling him "common rabble"—the young mistress of House Frostweaver, who had tried to flash-freeze the truck, and a Nigerian prince, son of a council member from the Sunstone Plateau. The prince had put up the best fight, his strength and abilities bringing him frightfully close to Enel’s level. It was a sobering reminder that Enel had been genuinely exceptional—the continent’s foremost genius, not just a title.

The top talents from the Asian and European continents remained uncrossed. That anticipation hung in the air like static electricity.

...

"Hey! Move it!" Kai shouted, leaning back out the window as they rolled toward the waving youth.

The young man, dressed in practical but travel-worn gear, didn’t flinch. "I’m not here for you," he replied, voice carrying cleanly over the engine’s rumble. "Sit the fuck down."

"He did not just—" Kai’s jaw went slack. He turned back to the cab in wide-eyed disbelief before snapping his stare back to the stranger.

"Hehe. Pick your battles wisely, Kai." Zeke was already moving. He leapt from the roof, landed in a crouch that barely raised the dust, and closed the distance to the youth in a blink.

"Yo." He came to a stop a few feet away, hands in his pockets. "I was waiting."

A flash of genuine shock crossed the youth’s face—pure, unguarded—before he caught it, tucking it behind a practiced, easy-going smile.

"Hello. My name’s Anton. Anton Vega."

"Oh. Not bearing the Aurelian name, I see."

"Hah. You have to be of considerable strength to rep the house name directly."

"A very strange rule. Whose name are you repping, then?"

"The house head of the seventh branch. It gives leeway—lets people know I’m affiliated with House Aurelius, and also that I’m of..." he paused, the smile staying easy, "little importance."

"I almost feel sad for you. If I did not know you were a strong black man."

"I’m not black."

"But you’re tan."

"It’s the continent, man! And I’ve been working hard since I entered this dungeon," Anton said, gesturing to his sun-bronzed skin with the exasperation of someone who’d had this conversation too many times.

"I know, right? Running away when you had the chance." Zeke’s grey eyes glinted. "You couldn’t even defend your clansmen from me."

"Hehe. I’m just a weak member of the seventh branch. Haven’t you heard the saying? If the sky is falling, there’ll always be someone to hold it up." A small shrug. "I trusted Enel."

"Too bad. He got smacked."

"Yes. Very shocking." Anton’s tone was measured—neither dismissive nor wounded. "I watched until the end of the first bout. You lost. But then you won the second by playing to your strengths."

"If you left early, how’d you know what happened?"

"I have my ways. Just as you have yours."

"True enough." A beat. "So—are you here for revenge?"

"That’s a silly question. Who could kill an immortal being? Certainly not me. Not at my current level."

"Hehe. I was wondering when someone would notice." Zeke’s grin edged toward predatory. "They always credit it to a good regeneration ability."

"Heh. It’s a flex. One learns to notice such things after... broadening one’s horizons." Anton finished with a theatrical, mocking bow.

"Is this the part where I flex back and tell you about yourself?" Zeke’s voice stayed light, almost conversational—which made what came next land heavier. "As a regressor. And the fact that you’re here because I’m an anomaly. I most definitely wasn’t present in your previous timeline, am I correct, Mr. Vega?"

The air between them seemed to crystallize. The ever-present hum of The Expanse receded into the background.

Anton’s smile didn’t waver, but his eyes sharpened—the playful glint replaced by something calculating and careful. "Hah. You’re right. I was quite confused, honestly. Especially when I saw you close to Jude." A pause, something heavier moving beneath the surface. "An Immortal with Jude is... alarming."

"I actually don’t know what that means—and this conversation is about to get an audience." Zeke jerked his chin toward the truck. The trio had disembarked and were approaching, confusion written plainly across their faces. He turned back to Anton. "We’ll get into it later. But I’ll say this much: whatever you’re thinking—it’s not it."

"I’ll see for myself." Anton’s gaze slid past Zeke and landed on Jude. His expression shifted—something softer and more pained replacing the careful neutrality. "It’s been a while, brother."

"Brother?!" The trio exclaimed in perfect, stunned unison.

"Plot twist!" Zeke chimed in, sounding genuinely caught off guard.

The trio turned to stare at him—faces caught somewhere between shock and a silent demand for answers.

"Don’t look at me. He’s the regressor. Only he understands himself."

"Regressor?!" This time all four of them shouted—Kai, Jude, Aaron, and Anton himself.

"You told them?" Anton’s composure cracked, bewilderment bleeding through. "Just like that?"

"Heh." Zeke shrugged, the picture of nonchalance. "You’re the one claiming brotherhood. How else were we supposed to explain the crazy talk?" 𝘧𝓇ℯ𝑒𝓌𝑒𝑏𝓃𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭.𝒸ℴ𝓂

"Mad Dog," Anton muttered, shaking his head.

"At your service." Zeke offered a theatrical, sweeping bow.

Anton let out a short, exasperated breath—then leveled a decisive finger at Zeke. "Well. For the record." He glanced at the trio. "He’s immortal."

"Eh?!" Four heads snapped back to Zeke simultaneously, their earlier shock swallowed whole by this new, world-shattering revelation.