In his sprawling estate, Decay sat alone in his study, the city lights far below the tall windows. He reached up and removed the plague doctor mask, setting it carefully on the desk. Without it, his lower face was a ruin of scars and twisted flesh, old damage that never quite faded no matter how much time passed. He lifted a glass of whisky and took a slow drink, staring out into the night without really seeing it.
The shadows behind him shifted.
He didn't turn. He cleared his throat instead. "Mirai."
A woman stepped out of the darkness as if it had opened for her. She moved lightly, almost silently, dressed in tight dark purple assassin robes. An eagle-beaked hood shadowed her face, only her eyes catching the light.
"You handled Kaine," Decay said. Not a question.
"He died like a dog," Mirai replied. Her voice was calm. Almost bored.
Decay nodded once. He swirled the whisky in his glass, then finally turned as Mirai circled behind him. He sat, heavy in the chair, and she leaned over the back of it, resting her arms along the wood. Her presence was familiar. Trusted.
"You look troubled," she said. "That's rare."
He set the glass down. "I keep asking myself where I went wrong." His gaze dropped to the desk. "If I've gone soft with age. Or if the old guard really was better before the Sentinels wiped them out. All but Tango."
Mirai was quiet for a moment. Then she shook her head. "You haven't gone soft. You've just listened to the wrong voices."
Decay exhaled through his nose. "That's what I was afraid of."
He stood again, pacing slowly. "I let mediocrity fester. I mistook survival for strength. I didn't create the Decay Group to be an underworld crime ring." He stopped at the window. "That was always just a tool. A way to gather resources. Influence."
Mirai watched him closely.
"My goal hasn't changed," he continued. "I want a nation. My own. A lawless one. Where strength decides everything. Where the weak kneel and the strong rule." He glanced back at her. "Like we should."
Mirai's lips curved slightly beneath the hood. "Then this Haven City mess was a lesson."
"It was," Decay said. "A costly one. But necessary." He clenched his jaw. "We clean house. We find new talent. We rebuild the Decay Group from the ground up. No more settling."
He turned back to the desk and picked up his mask, running his thumb along its edge. "This ordeal opened my eyes. Change is needed. In the organization. And in me."
Mirai nodded. "I understand."
She shifted, her voice lowering. "What about Emerald Atlas?"
Decay paused.
"He's interfered more than once," she continued. "And we've had to silence too many loose ends because of him."
Decay laughed softly. It surprised even him. "I'll let the boy go. For now."
Mirai tilted her head. "That's unexpected."
"We have a connection inside the ISC," Decay said. "I've seen the footage. Today. Before." His eyes gleamed faintly. "He has potential."
"As a hero," Mirai said.
"Or as something else," Decay replied.
She leaned closer. "And what would that be?"
Decay slipped the mask back over his ruined face and turned toward the window once more. "Whatever I decide to mold him into."
Decay spun in his chair to face her, the motion sharp and sudden. The mask was back on now, its blank beak pointed straight at Mirai.
"I trust you more than anyone," he said. "You know that. Your information has never failed me."
Mirai inclined her head slightly. Not quite a bow. More acknowledgment.
"I want eyes on Emerald Atlas," Decay continued. "Not pressure. Not interference. I want to watch him grow. I want to see how he adapts when the world keeps pushing back."
She folded her arms. "That can be arranged. I'll observe from a distance and report when asked." A pause. "That said, from what I've seen so far, I'm not impressed."
A quiet laugh slipped from behind the mask. "You will be," Decay said. "Give it time."
Mirai reached into her robes and pulled out a slim packet, sliding it across the table. "The overseas matter is resolved as well. Clean. No loose ends."
Decay rose to his feet at once. "Excellent." The tension in his shoulders eased for the first time that night. "That was the other weight on my mind."
He stepped away from the desk, energy suddenly returning to him, almost bouncing as he shrugged into his coat. He adjusted the straps of his mask, fingers steady now instead of restless.
Mirai watched him. "You seem motivated."
"I am," Decay said. "I feel clear. Focused." He let out a sharp breath. "I'm not wasting that."
He turned toward the door.
"And where exactly are you going?" Mirai asked.
Decay paused, hand on the handle. "To see Orion."
Her brow lifted beneath the hood. "You're starting now?"
"I'm done tolerating rot," he replied. "The Decay Group doesn't survive by clinging to dead weight. If I'm rebuilding, I start by tearing out what doesn't belong."
Mirai studied him for a long moment. There was no doubt in his posture. No hesitation.
"Good luck with that," she said softly.
Decay stopped. Just long enough to glance back over his shoulder.
Mirai's voice lowered. "Father."
The word lingered in the room.
He nodded once. Not in gratitude but in recognition. Then he opened the door and stepped into the hall, already moving with purpose, already planning the next cut.
Mirai remained where she was, alone again in the study. She looked at the empty chair, then at the city beyond the window. Somewhere out there, Emerald Atlas was recovering. Training. Believing.
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
"Grow well," she murmured. "I'll be watching."
Decay walked the long corridors of his mansion toward the exit, polished shoes echoing softly with each step. He adjusted his tie, the gesture precise. For the first time in a long while, he felt light. Focused. This was a new beginning, not just for the Decay Group, but for him. If his instincts about Emerald Atlas proved correct, if the boy could be shaped and guided with care, then everything would fall into place. A nation of his own no longer felt like a distant fantasy. It felt inevitable.
With Brother Kaine gone, the Decay Group slips back into silence, retreating into the background as Decay dismantles what remains of his old structure and begins rebuilding with intent. Somewhere in that quiet, plans are already forming for Emerald Atlas and the role he may one day be forced to play.
For now, Justin and Braxton have their own victory to savor. Their probation ends, and they're officially elevated to full hero status under the Sage Archive banner, a milestone earned through blood, bruises, and survival. The future remains uncertain. Decay's ambitions linger, unanswered and dangerous, and the road ahead for Justin, Liza, and Braxton promises trials far more complicated than open battle. What future awaits the rookie trio of heroes? Those questions will have to wait for another time.
Provisional Heroes Arc: Finished.