The rooftop wind tugged at Vexen's coat as he leaned over the edge, scanning the city below with a heavy, silent gaze.
"...Is this even Earth anymore?" he muttered.
Kaelen stood beside him, arms crossed, his sharp eyes flickering over the crowded streets. Down below, men and women in polished armor walked alongside civilians in everyday clothes. Some carried swords glowing with faint enchantments, others had staffs buzzing with unstable mana. Occasionally, someone would casually drink a potion from a shimmering vial or summon a spell to move crates of supplies.
Massive screens hovered between the skyscrapers, flashing with urgent headlines:
"Dungeon Break Alert: Zone 17 Under Lockdown!"
"Tower of Trials Open for New Hunters!"
"Magic Academy Recruitment Now Open!"
Vexen clicked his tongue. "Hunters? Dungeons? Towers?"
His voice was low, rough with disbelief.
Draegen adjusted his glasses, studying the screens carefully. "It's magic, but... it's crude. Unrefined."
Kaelen scoffed. "They have mana, but they barely know how to control it."
Valthor said nothing, his sharp gaze locked on the black Tower in the distance — a cold, towering spike that bled pressure into the air.
The four brothers exchanged silent looks.
Compared to the battles of Murim, where even a wrong breath could kill a man...
Compared to Alexandria, where gods and demon kings waged wars across shattered skies...
This Earth felt fragile.
The people had strength, but no understanding of it.
Raw power, wasted on systems, potions, and titles.
Vexen's lip curled into a half-smile — not of joy, but of pity.
"They play at being warriors," he muttered under his breath.
"They don't know what true power is," Kaelen added grimly.
As they moved through the streets, their footsteps silent among the crowds, the brothers kept their distance — observing.
A young "hunter" boasted about clearing a dungeon with flashy spells. Another bragged about buying an expensive artifact. People praised each other for reaching "A-rank," tossing the term around like it was a badge of divinity.
Draegen's hands stayed at his sides, his fingers twitching slightly.
The second brother's gaze sharpened behind his glasses. He could see it clearly — the wasted potential, the foolishness of a society that thought climbing towers and chasing titles made them powerful.
Valthor exhaled slowly, his breath almost a sigh.
He understood something the others didn't need to say aloud:
This world had changed, but in a way that made it weaker, not stronger.
"We'll figure it out later," Vexen said, tearing his eyes away from the pitiful scene.
"First, we find out if Mom and Dad are still alive."
⸻
Kaelen stopped in his tracks, his brow furrowing. He looked at Vexen, eyes sharp. "Wait, you think they're still alive? After everything?"
There was a pause.
Valthor, who had been walking ahead, slowed down as well. His expression softened, though the weight of his words hung heavy. "We can't just assume. We need to find them."
Vexen, who had been pacing, suddenly stopped. His usual smirk faded, replaced by something deeper — concern, maybe. A silent ache. "I don't know. It's been too long. Earth... it's different now. They could be gone. Or... worse."
Kaelen, more unsettled than he let on, clenched his fists. "But if they are still alive, if they've been hiding—"
"We need to find them," Valthor interrupted, his voice low but firm. "No matter what."
The weight of the decision settled over them. They weren't just looking for family anymore; they were looking for the truth.
Vexen's gaze hardened, his voice a quiet promise. "We'll find them. And if they're out there..." He let the words trail off.
Kaelen nodded, his jaw tight with determination. "We need answers."
Draegen adjusted his glasses once more, his face unreadable. "We'll move quickly. Incheon, then. There's no time to waste."
The four brothers shared one final, silent look before they turned and made their way back into the heart of the city. The hum of magic and flashing billboards faded into the background, as the sense of urgency pushed them forward.
None of it mattered. Not the city, not the towers, not the weak people chasing titles.
They had lived through Murim. They had survived Alexandria.
And no matter how much Earth had changed...
They had not.
⸻
The journey to their old hometown felt long, the memories of their past only amplifying with every step. The streets looked different — newer, slicker, polished with an unfamiliar shine. Buildings they remembered had been replaced by sparkling shops and strange advertisements.
But when they reached their old street, Vexen's steps slowed. It wasn't the same. The house was still there, but it was unrecognizable. The garden their mother had nurtured was replaced by a series of dull, rune-covered stones. The porch that had once been warm and inviting was now adorned with a sickly green paint, peeling in the edges. A couple stood in the yard, talking to their children.
Vexen's lips tightened. Strangers. His eyes narrowed as they took in the scene.
He felt the familiar pulse of magic, the undercurrent of dark power, stirring within him. Without a word, he moved toward the strangers, his steps soft as he wove his magic into the air. He wasn't here to waste time — not on their confusion or their pointless questioning.
The man on the porch stiffened suddenly, his expression blanking as Vexen's subtle spell took hold. The brothers watched quietly, waiting. Draegen was already glancing around, calculating their next steps.
"Tell me where the Helios family is," Vexen's voice was smooth, tinged with the power of his manipulation. "Where did they go?"
The man blinked, his eyes glazed over, and after a long pause, he answered in a hollow voice, "They... they moved away. Incheon. After the first Dungeon Collapse. Around twenty-eight years ago. They live near the eastern districts now... away from the Towers."
Vexen held the man's gaze for a moment longer before releasing the spell. The man's confusion returned, as if waking from a dream.
Vexen's patience snapped, his voice dropping dangerously low. "How do you know all this? How do you know about my family? Who are you to know such personal things about us?"
His aura flared out of control, dark and suffocating. The ground beneath them trembled with the weight of his presence.
Kaelen's eyes glinted dangerously, his aura flaring next. A pressure rolled through the air like a storm cloud, dark and focused. His voice was quiet but venomous. "You know a lot for someone who's just a stranger. I'm curious... how long have you been watching us?"
Draegen's aura, sharp and calculating, cut through the air like a blade. He stepped forward, voice laced with an edge of cold fury. "Tell us why you know so much about our family. What's your connection?"
Valthor's aura erupted like a tidal wave, calm yet overwhelming. His voice was deep, controlled, but the fury beneath it was unmistakable. "Answer the question. Who are you?"
The stranger seemed to shrink, their heart hammering in their chest under the weight of the brothers' collective pressure. He took a shaky step back, panic starting to cloud his thoughts. The force of their auras was too much for anyone to bear — even one as seemingly innocent as him.
He swallowed hard, eyes wide in terror. "I-I... I'm just a local. I-I heard rumors... Everyone talks about the Helios family. The heroes of the past... After the collapse, everyone remembers..."
Vexen took one last, cold look at the stranger before turning away. "Enough."
The brothers stood in tense silence, their auras retracting but still charged with the residual power of their anger.
"We go to Incheon," Valthor said, his voice cutting through the tension. "At dawn. No more games."
Vexen's cold smirk reappeared, but his eyes held an edge of bitterness. "We'll find them. And if anyone tries to stop us... they'll regret it."