Chapter 84: Good Time

Scar turned to Xavier and frowned. "Why would you bring me to an arcade?" he asked sharply, his brow furrowing. "We should be in the forest, training."

Xavier raised a brow. "Didn't your mum tell you?"

Scar shook his head. "Tell me what?"

Xavier sighed. "Felicity said you've been stressing yourself out a lot lately. She thought you needed a break from all the training." He gestured toward the arcade. "She asked me to make sure you got the day off and had a good time. So here we are."

Scar stared at him like he was crazy. "My mum asked you to bring me to an arcade?" he asked in disbelief.

"She asked me to make sure you had fun." Xavier corrected. "The arcade was my idea."

Scar scoffed. "And what made you think I'd want to spend my day off at an arcade?"

Xavier shrugged. "I don't care what you want, kid. I care what Felicity wants. And she wants you to have a good time." He crossed his arms. "So a good time is what you'll have. Now get in there."

"No," Scar refused flatly. "I'm not interested."

Xavier didn't argue. His expression didn't change. "Okay," he said simply. "You can go."

Scar blinked. "What?"

"You heard me. Go. Leave," Xavier said, uncrossing his arms. "I'm not going to force you to have fun."

Scar hesitated. "Really?" he asked with a skeptical expression. "I'm free to go. Just like that?"

"Just like that." Xavier's eyes were flat. "But know this… if you walk away right now, you can forget about training with me ever again."

Scar's jaw dropped. "What?" he muttered in disbelief. "Why would you go that far over a stupid arcade?"

"That's right," Xavier smirked, gesturing to Scar's body. "You already have a perfect physique. You practically don't need me anymore. So just go."

Scar's hands clenched into fists. But he didn't move. Xavier was right about one thing—he did have his perfect body now. The serum had given him everything he'd wanted and more. In terms of raw physical capability, he was already beyond what most people could achieve in a lifetime.

But training with Xavier wasn't just about physical conditioning.

It was about technique. Strategy. Survival skills. Learning how to fight against opponents who were stronger, faster, and more experienced. And Scar had learned more from Xavier in their few sessions than he'd learned from anyone else in his past life. The man was a fountain of combat knowledge, and walking away from that would be foolish.

Scar sighed. "Fine. You win," he conceded. "I'll have a good time."

Xavier's smile widened as he walked toward the entrance. "Good choice."

They both entered the arcade and were swept into a world of digital gaming. Holographic game stations lined the walls, each one offering immersive experiences that made traditional arcade games look primitive. Virtual reality pods dominated one section, their occupants fully sealed inside, lost in digital worlds. Multiplayer battle arenas took up another corner, where players controlled holographic avatars in fast-paced combat simulations.

It was chaos.

And somehow, Xavier navigated it like he'd been there a hundred times before.

"Try this one," he said, gesturing toward a shooting gallery game.

Scar picked up the light gun and aimed. The targets appeared—holographic dummies that moved with surprising speed and intelligence. Scar tracked and struck every single one of them with ease, his precision skill and enhanced reflexes making the game almost trivial.

"This is too easy," he murmured, lowering the gun. "Next."

They tried racing games, fighting games, puzzle games. Xavier participated with surprising enthusiasm, his competitive nature emerging as they went head-to-head in various challenges.

To Scar's surprise, he found himself enjoying it.

Not because the games were particularly engaging—most of them were far too simple for someone with his enhanced capabilities—but because of Xavier's company. The man's dry humor and casual trash talk made even the most mundane activities entertaining.

"You call that a drift?" Xavier scoffed as Scar's virtual racing car slid around a corner. "My grandmother can drive better than that."

"Your grandmother's dead." Scar retorted flatly.

Xavier laughed. "So are your chances of winning this race."

Scar lost the race.

He blamed it on the unfamiliar controls.

They left the arcade after a couple of hours and got food at a nearby restaurant—a small, family-owned place that served traditional pre-Cataclysm dishes. Scar ate more than he'd ever eaten in one sitting, his new body demanding fuel to maintain its enhanced state.

Then Xavier suggested bowling.

Scar raised an eyebrow. "Bowling?"

Xavier smirked. "You got a problem with that?"

Scar shook his head. "I just didn't expect you to be into that kind of thing."

Xavier shrugged. "I'm full of surprises."

They left the restaurant a while later and went bowling.

The bowling alley was just as impressive as the arcade. It had glowing lanes, automated scoring, and balls that adjusted their weight automatically based on the user's preference.

Xavier was surprisingly good at it.

Scar was not.

"There's an art to it," Xavier said after Scar's third gutter ball. "You can't just throw it with all your strength. You need finesse."

"I have finesse." Scar argued.

Xavier snickered. "Not according to that scoreboard, you don't."

Scar scowled.

By the time they left the bowling alley, it was already late afternoon.

The sun was beginning to descend toward the horizon, painting the city in shades of gold and orange. The crowds had thinned slightly, but the streets were still busy with people heading home from work or out for the evening.

Scar stretched his arms above his head. "Can I go home now?" He asked, feeling mentally drained.

"Not yet," Xavier said. "There's one more place I want to visit."

Then he reached into his storage ring. In a flash of light, a massive, heavily modified hoverbike materialized on the sidewalk. It was sleek and compact, with a black-and-silver frame that gleamed in the fading light. The hover thrusters along its underside hummed softly as it activated, and the handlebars lit up with a soft glow.

Scar's jaw dropped. He wasn't even surprised that the spatial ring could hold a vehicle. What shocked him was the sheer audacity of this man.

"What the hell, man?" he confronted, his voice rising in disbelief. "We walked around the city for hours. We took public transit. And you had a hoverbike in your storage ring the entire time? Are you fucking serious?!"

Xavier shrugged. "It was more fun walking."

Scar was stunned beyond words. "More fun? You made me walk for miles when we could have been riding this?"

"Where's the adventure in instant travel?" Xavier swung one leg over the bike. "Sometimes the journey matters more than the destination."

Scar scoffed. "That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard."

Xavier looked at him with a knowing expression. "Is it? I seem to recall you having fun today."

Scar opened his mouth to argue. Then he closed it. Because Xavier was right. He truly had enjoyed himself. Despite his initial resistance, despite his insistence that he didn't want to spend the day at an arcade, despite everything—he'd actually had fun.

"Whatever," Scar muttered. "Let's just get this over with."

He climbed onto the bike behind Xavier.

The hoverbike rose smoothly into the air, its thrusters humming with barely-contained power. The crowd around them scattered slightly, giving the vehicle space.

Xavier gunned the throttle.

WHOOSH!

They shot forward.

The city blurred past them as the hoverbike weaved through traffic, its anti-gravity systems carrying them smoothly over the congested streets below. The wind rushed past Scar's face, but his enhanced body barely registered the cold.

A few minutes later, they arrived at their destination.

The hoverbike touched down in front of a sprawling, magnificent building constructed from ancient white marble and futuristic glass.

It was the National Museum.

Scar hopped off, looking up at the grand architecture. "Why did you bring me to a museum of all places?"

"I didn't come here because of you, kid," Xavier said, his eyes scanning the quiet, prestigious entrance. "I came for someone else."

Without another word, Xavier walked toward the massive glass doors, and Scar followed him inside.

The interior of the Museum was a breathtaking fusion of ancient history and cutting-edge technology. Massive, vaulted marble ceilings stretched high above, while soft holographic displays illuminated rows of glass exhibits housing relics from the old world and fragments of ancient weaponry. A scattering of visitors moved between the exhibits—families, students, tourists, and a few couples. Several museum guards were stationed throughout the main hall, dressed in dark uniforms and carrying standard security equipment, looking more ceremonial than combat-ready.

Xavier walked through the grand halls with a measured pace, his boots echoing against the polished marble. His eyes scanned the exhibits with a quiet intensity that Scar had never seen in the man before. There was no tension in his posture, no readiness for combat. Just a heavy, contemplative stillness that hung over him like a shroud.

Scar followed a few steps behind, his own eyes cataloging not only the artifacts, but everything else around him. The museum was impressive—a sprawling complex of ancient relics, holographic reconstructions, and exhibits dedicated to the world before the Great Horde. But Scar's mind wasn't on the displays. It was on the number 1,235.

Mach 1.

He was at 1,140 km/h. And soon, he would be able to break the sound barrier on his own. All he needed was ninety-five kilometers per hour of raw, untapped velocity that he had to force his body to adapt to. It was so close he could taste it.

They passed through the Ancient Civilizations wing, past holographic reconstructions of pre-Cataclysm cities and exhibits on the early days of mana cell research. Xavier stopped at a glass case containing a silver locket, its surface etched with delicate floral patterns.

Scar paused beside him, saying nothing. He could feel the weight of Xavier's silence.

"My wife loved this section," Xavier said, his voice low and distant. "She would stand here for hours, just staring at these cases, imagining what life was like before the Horde." He let out a low chuckle. "She said it was like looking into a world that was more peaceful. A world she wished she lived in."

Scar didn't say anything to that. He didn't need to. Felicity had already told him about Xavier's wife and daughter. The tragedy that had shaped the man into the hardened, grief-stricken warrior he was today. Scar understood loss. He understood the weight of a past that refused to let go. So he simply stood beside the man, offering the only comfort he knew how to offer; quiet presence.

"Come on," Xavier said, shaking off the melancholy. "Let's check out the rest of this place."

They moved through the rest of the museum in silence, passing exhibits on the Mutant War, the Great Horde, and the rise of the World Leaders. The halls were mostly empty now, the afternoon crowd thinning as closing time approached.

But then, the atmosphere shifted.

Scar's enhanced perception picked it up instantly. The distant hum of the air conditioning. The soft footfalls of a guard patrolling a distant corridor. The low chatter of museum staff preparing to close.

All of it stopped.

The silence that followed was unnatural. Heavy. Wrong.

Xavier noticed it too. His posture stiffened, his eyes scanning the hall with predator-like awareness. "Something's wrong," he whispered. "Stay close to—"

BOOM!

The entrance doors of the museum were suddenly blasted opened with a deafening crash. The sound echoed through the museum like a death knell. And before anyone could process anything, a blinding flash of light erupted from the main hall, washing over the room in a wave of crackling energy that pulsed with an electric hum.

Scar felt the strange, buzzing sensation of the wave pass over his skin—like static electricity crawling across his body. But it faded almost instantly, leaving no trace of its existence. It didn't seem to have any effect whatsoever. He was completely fine.

Xavier, however, collapsed.

As the wave passed through him, he suddenly lost all his strength and stamina. His knees buckled, and he crashed to the floor. His hands clawed at the ground, his muscles trembling violently as his strength rapidly got drained from his body like water from a broken dam.

"What the—" Xavier growled, forcing himself to his knees.

But it wasn't just him.

A woman suddenly felt dizzy and collapsed against a display case. One of the tourists—a man with blonde hair—dropped to his knees. Another grabbed his chest in pain. The guards in the hall collapsed to the floor, gasping for air, their bodies suddenly paralyzed.

Every single person in the museum became weak and powerless. They were all affected by the strange wave.

All except Scar.

He looked around in awe and confusion, his mind racing.

What's going on, he thought.

Just then, six figures stepped into the museum through the blasted entrance. They were dressed in advanced, matte-black combat armor, wielding high-caliber weaponry ranging from energy rifles, to serrated combat knives, to gauntlets that glowed with a blue light. And across their chest plates was the familiar yet distinct, crimson insignia of an eclipsed sun.

Scar recognized the insignia instantly. It belonged to the most terrifying terrorist organization that terrorized their era.

It belonged to O.D.D

Order of the Dark Dawn.