Page 172 of Stars in Umbra
His gaze glazed over for a moment in remembrance. ‘He called himselfSulfiqar. He revealed his force to me and I realized I had never experienced the kind of power he held, andfokkI wanted it for myself.’
Mo’s stomach clenched. Caidan had met his father.
‘He told me he had a son in LeCythi. He pointed me to you. The rest was easy. I recruited you via Stygian Corp. I ran DNA scans on you after your first kill at seventeen. No mortal had ever emitted such potency as you. No human was able to pierce the shadows, nor tear through battlefields like you. I got excited by the divine potency inside you, so I harvested samples and cloned fragments. Implanted the best strands into myself, and I became more.’
Mo’s voice was steel. ‘Thefokkin’ audacity.’
Caidan laughed, a weak and bitter chuckle. ‘Maybe, but it gave me power. I turned into Apex Wraith, and I grew a fearsome reputation. However, I had to make you the fall guy, the disposable one, working the more risky kill contracts. You never failed, you were my triumph.’
Mo stood, fists clenched. ‘Enough of your self-absorbed jerking. Tell me about the bomb?’ he growled.
Caidan’s smile faded. ‘It was Lucian’s idea, I liked it because it would wipe out the Riders quite spectacularly. Whoever else dies in the blast, the Edenites, your woman, yourself, all collateral damage.’
Mo went silent, his perception deepened, and he jolted, perceiving what to do.
He spoke words to life. ‘Za’Kann yi adalci na Ka.’
I will render divine justice.
Threads of illumination within him began to stir.
They rose from his skin like living ink, melding into his already present sigils, swirling in complex arcs.
Each lightning shard bore the sacred etchings of Sulfiqar’s crest.
They spun around him in reverence as he lifted one hand and sculpted the light with more ancient phrases.
His voice echoed with such thunder that it caused the bomber’s frame to quake with residual power.
From that shaped radiance,a weapon emerged.
It was not forged from metal; instead, he crafted it from a divine principle.
The scythe was carved of twilight and starlit fire, its edge burning with celestial glyphs.
The blade shimmered, ever-shifting between states, energy, matter, and illumination.
The haft bore the markings of the Sacran war pantheon, symbols of justice, vengeance, and supernal balance.
Mo reached for it, and its glow bathed the hull and surrounding air.
Caidan’s eyes went wide. ‘What thefokkis that?’
Mo’s voice was calm and timbred as he rendered his foe’s final verdict.
‘A judgment sword. Etched by breath, bound by oath. It can only be wielded by those who remain pure of soul and true in cause.’
Caidan struggled against his bonds. ‘How can you justify this? Gods are supposed to bemerciful!’
Mo’s gaze turned to flame.
‘From my meager knowledge of the gods, they’re meant toprotectthe innocent. To render justice. However, when evilwears a man’s face, they are purposed to be itsend. An eye for an eye. A soul for a soul.’
He brought the scythe to his front, its shadows whispering around him.
‘This will finish you.’
Caidan roared his frustration, pulling hard on the divine chains, trying to escape.
