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Three days later, when John Garrett came at his usual time, he didn't find Ward—only a shelter and a dead body. It was a decoy left by Storm, while both he and Grant were watching Garrett through hidden cameras.
"See for yourself," Storm said as Grant watched Garrett's actions on the tablet in his hands. "The man you thought was your savior never cared about you. He only wanted a foolish kid to follow him… to do his dirty work."
Storm knew Grant still had lingering attachment toward Garrett. That was exactly why he wanted Grant to see everything with his own eyes.
Down below, Garrett looked at the unrecognizable decoy corpse.
"Pathetic. What a waste of time," he said coldly, before turning away. He didn't even bother to bury the body.
Seeing that, Grant's fingers tightened around the tablet before he angrily smashed it against the ground.
"As I said, he was just manipulating you," Storm told him calmly. "I already have given you a choice. But I will ask again you one last time. Follow me… or walk your own path. I won't stop you."
Grant looked at him, breathing hard.
"I already saw enough. I'll follow you—for now. If your 'master' turns out to be anything like John… I'll leave."
Storm nodded once. "Good. Then you're under my lead now."
With that settled, he guided Grant out of the forest and toward Ethan's house.
Back at Ethan's place, he sat at the edge of his bed, hands clasped as he prayed. "Oh gods of Marvel… Stanley, bless me with luck."
After a moment, he opened his eyes and said, "Okay, system—spin the monthly Gacha."
[…Spinning…]
A gacha wheel appeared in front of him, spinning faster and faster. Gradually, it began to slow, finally stopping at a blue section.
[ Focus Tech from the Horizon universe]
This version was the small triangular-shaped device that attaches to the side of the head—not the implant used by Far Zenith.
"Hmmm… Focus, huh. Interesting. Using this and combining it with Arasaka tech, I can create a very powerful version of Focus. Good," Ethan nodded, as all the information flooded into his mind—schematics, building procedures, limitations, everything.
"Oh! So it's basically a super‑advanced version of a smartphone… and it comes with over 200k apps?" Ethan muttered, scrolling through the internal specs projected in his vision.
Then his expression twisted.
"Damn… using this, I can add another great piece of tech to my company. Though, if I use it right now and let it out, this tech is insane. It could be exploited by a lot of bad guys in Marvel."
He rubbed his forehead.
"It would seriously suck if someday someone stole it and used it against me…" he mumbled.
"So, add it my company but a very watered version of it" Ethan nodded to himself, as he stretched.
"The Replicator is near completion, after its done, I can relax a bit" Ethan mumbled, finishing his Coffee he returned back to work.
After a few days, the workshop door slid open—and Storm stepped inside with Grant quietly following behind him.
Ethan looked up from the half-assembled Replicator.
"Oh. You're back already… and you brought him."
He stood up, wiping his hands. "Nice to meet you. Ethan Cliff."
"Grant Ward," Grant said, shaking his hand firmly.
"Okay, nice to meet you. You can stay with Storm for now. I'm going back to work," Ethan said, already turning toward his replicator. Within seconds, he was fully focused again, soldering something that definitely wasn't safe.
Grant watched him for a moment, confused. "…Don't tell me that guy is your master?" he whispered to Storm.
Storm nodded. "He is indeed my master. And as I said—my master is an introvert. He prefers spending time with his machines rather than humans."
Grant blinked. "I can see that."
Storm motioned with his hand. "Follow me."
Grant followed him out of the workshop, glancing back at Ethan—who was already completely absorbed in whatever he was building again.
Storm led him down a short hallway and pushed open a small door.
"This is your room. Adjust it however you want."
Grant looked around. It wasn't exactly a "room"—more like a suite.
"At least it's better than the last place," he joked lightly.
Storm actually let out a faint huff of amusement.
"We are not turning you into a cold-blooded killer, so no need to go through jungle-style torture training."
Grant nodded at that, visibly relieved.
"So… my training starts when?" Grant asked.
"From tomorrow," Storm replied. "There is someone else who will join you."
"Someone else?"
"You'll meet her tomorrow," Storm said. "For now—rest all you can today."
Grant nodded slowly and sat on the bed, letting out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding.
"I really wonder how my life could turn out like this… just because I was a pyromaniac," Grant muttered as he lay down on the bed.
He didn't get a wink of sleep on the way here, all he was thinking of was the mysterious master of Storm, his mind refused to settle.
Storm himself was already far more dangerous than John Garrett ever was—but after seeing Ethan, Grant felt… strangely relieved. Safe, even.
"Someone who others would miss… I hope I can be that one day," he whispered.
With that wish, exhaustion finally dragged him under, and Grant fell asleep.
The Next Morning
Grant woke to gentle knocking.
"Good morning," a soft voice said as the door slid open. A young maid stepped inside carrying folded clothes. "These are your training outfits. Please change and head to the arena."
Grant blinked, still groggy. "Arena? Already?"
"Yes," she smiled. "They're waiting for you."
After a quick wash and changing into the simple but sturdy black training clothes, Grant made his way down the hall. The house was much larger than it looked—clean, modern, and strangely peaceful.
He stepped into a big hall—an indoor arena nearly the size of a gym.
And Inside were two people only, Storm and a Blonde Woman.