Over the next several years, Aegis or to be exact Gary and Yaseer, and the Cleaner forged an alliance—uneasy, unofficial, and stronger than anything written in a protocol.
The Cleaner never joined their ranks. Never took a title. But when the world started cracking at the edges, it was his name whispered first in every war room.
The Cleaner didn't just fight. He taught.
Gary and Yaseer became the first to walk the tightrope between what Aegis knew and what the world didn't want to believe. Under his guidance, they mapped out the anatomy of the beasts—cataloged weaknesses, charted behavior patterns, and created models no one else could replicate.
And with Yaseer's mind and the Cleaner's teachings, a revolution was born. Weapons that melted the thick muscles and furs of the beasts. Armor that resisted the monstrous strength. Detectors that could track a beast's aura before it ever breached the surface.
Half of it felt like sci-fi.
But, all of it worked.
No matter how far humanity pushed the boundaries of technology, the Cleaner never asked for credit. It was never about recognition. To him, protecting Earth felt less like a choice and more like a responsibility—an unspoken duty carved into the very bones of his being.
Every time the beasts returned, he was there. He never stole the spotlight. He let Aegis face the battles first, allowing them to earn their scars and grow stronger through the fire. But when things turned dire—when the scales tipped toward devastation—he would appear like a shadow at twilight, quiet and unstoppable, to clean up the mess no one else could.
And then, just as suddenly, he'd vanish again.
Never staying long enough to be captured on camera. Never lingering in the public eye. But in every major breakthrough that followed—every leap forward in Aegis weaponry, tactics, or defense—his presence lingered. Not in headlines, but in blueprints. Not in awards, but in whispered field reports. His fingerprints were woven through every victory, unseen but undeniable.
For Gary and Yaseer, being his students—his friends—became the catalyst for everything. Gary rose fast through the ranks, his strength growing at a pace no one could explain. Within a year, he was already on par with the elite. Two more, and he had left them behind. Aegis called him a phenomenon. But Gary knew the truth.
Everything he had—every technique, every edge, every ounce of power—was a gift from the Cleaner. And when the Cleaner had once told him, "If you think someone's ready, teach them," Gary took it to heart.
He didn't hoard the knowledge. He shared the method to unlock Mana Gates with Aegis' higher-ups, and soon it became a coveted reward—something only the most exceptional agents could earn. A tool. A rite of passage. A way forward.
That was how Aegis grew stronger.
Not just as a unit.
But as a force capable of standing tall against the beasts.
Still… none of it would've been possible without the Cleaner.
And then—just as quietly as he had entered their lives—he returned.
One last time.
It was five years after the first beast attack. The skyline had been rebuilt. The scars on the city had faded. The world, for once, felt quiet. They met on a rooftop above Brooklyn Bridge Park. No speeches. No entourage. Just Gary, leaning against a railing, watching the river flow below—and the Cleaner, standing at the edge like a shadow made real.
Yaseer wasn't there. He was knee-deep in a new prototype he swore would change everything. He'd promised to join them later. He never got the chance and it became his biggest regret.
"I won't be seeing you guys for a long time after this," the Cleaner said softly, voice carrying over the wind. He sounded tired. Not from battle—but from time itself.
Gary turned to him slowly, brow furrowed. "What does that mean? Are you going back to your world?"
The masked man nodded, just once. "Still, trouble's gonna come again. Big trouble. And I probably won't be around for it."
Gary folded his arms. "That sounds like a horrible retirement plan."
The Cleaner chuckled, but it didn't reach his eyes.
"If things go bad," he continued, "you won't have to face it alone."
Gary tilted his head. "Why? Who else is coming?"
The Cleaner looked out across the city—then said, almost casually, "My son."
Gary blinked. "You have a son?"
There was a beat of silence. Then the Cleaner nodded again, this time with something between pride and regret. "Yeah. He'll be reckless. Or maybe he won't be. Could be worse than me, or better. I don't know yet."
Gary's throat tightened. He didn't know why it hit so hard—but it did. They weren't just operatives anymore. Not after all these years. Not after what they'd shared. Somewhere along the way, the Cleaner had become more than a mentor.
They had become friends.
"You're really not coming back, huh?" Gary asked quietly.
The Cleaner finally turned toward him, his gold mask catching the reflection of the city lights. "Maybe one day. As of now, I need to be in my world. Something big is happening."
He paused as he looked at Gary and said, "But if I don't… keep him safe. Keep my family safe."
Gary swallowed hard. "How will I know them?"
A soft wind blew between them.
"You'll know," the Cleaner said, his voice low. "They'll either be the ones causing trouble… or the ones it finds first."
He turned to leave. But just before the shadows swallowed him again, he paused. "Oh—and if Yaseer ever figures out how to build something that crosses worlds... tell him I said 'about damn time.'"
And then he was gone.
No sound. No trail.
Just wind—and the echo of a warning Gary never forgot.
***
Twenty years had passed, and still—Gary Holden couldn't shake the mystery.
The Cleaner.
A name that had become a legend inside Aegis. A shadow most agents whispered about, but only two ever truly knew. And now, with strange beasts resurfacing, and three unexplainable individuals caught in the eye of the storm—Gary felt the weight of prophecy settling on his shoulders.
Elion Hayes.
Jordan Walker.
And the cowboy—the one only he had noticed in the CCTV footage. The figure the other five Captains somehow overlooked, as he'd slipped through the cracks of the recording itself. Gary had seen enough anomalies in his life to trust his instincts. And they were screaming now.
The Cleaner had warned him this day would come. That when trouble returned, he might not be around to stop it. But someone else would be.
The only question was—who?
Which of these three was the son he'd left behind?
That was why Gary had authorized full surveillance on both Elion's and Jordan's families. He wasn't leaving this to chance. If one of them truly carried the Cleaner's blood… they needed to know before it was too late.
But no matter how many times he replayed the footage, no matter how many reports he read—he still didn't have the answer.
Gary finally looked up from the screen, locking eyes with Paige across the table.
"Double the security on both families," he said.
Paige's brow tightened. "You think one of them is connected to him? To the Cleaner?"
Yaseer had made sure every agent in Aegis knew the name. Knew the stories. Knew the impossible truth behind their survival.
Gary's voice was steady, but the room seemed to hold its breath.
"I don't think," he said. "I know."
Around the obsidian table, the other Captains exchanged tense glances—expressions tight, jaws clenched. The air had shifted. This wasn't just another operation.
With the beasts really returning, then somewhere out there—the Cleaner's son had a war waiting for him. And Aegis had to be ready when he stepped into it.
The obsidian conference room slowly emptied after Gary's final order.
One by one, the five Captains stood. No protests. No arguments. Just a quiet weight settling on all their shoulders. A few exchanged glances. Some offered nods. But none said a word.
Except Theo.
He didn't bolt for the exit like the others. Instead, he fell into step beside Paige, hands in his pockets, gazing straight ahead. She noticed immediately. She always did.
"You following me, Ramirez?" she asked, not slowing her pace.
Theo shrugged. "Just walking. Same direction. Pure coincidence."
Paige didn't respond, but the look she gave him said she didn't buy it.
After a beat of silence, Theo added, "I still don't get why we're betting everything on finding the Cleaner's son. We've come a long way since those first beasts. Maybe it's time we stop waiting for a ghost to save us."
He glanced sideways, watching her carefully.
"Maybe we should be the ones leading."
Paige finally stopped. Theo halted beside her.
She turned to him. "You think strength alone makes a leader?"
"I think we've proven ourselves," he replied. "Third Mana Gate doesn't open itself, you know."
Her expression didn't change, but he saw the flicker of acknowledgment in her eyes.
"Yaseer trained me himself," she said.
"I know," Theo replied. "My father handled mine."
It wasn't bragging. Just fact. Among the current generation of junior Aegis operatives, they were considered strong—especially after unlocking their third gates through the Path of Aegis. It was no small feat. Most agents spent years just trying to open their first.
The Path of Aegis was the name they had chosen for the technique to open the Mana Gates shared by the Cleaner. It wasn't something just anyone could learn. The authority to teach it belonged only to Gary, Yaseer, and the rest of the Five Admirals. And even then, it wasn't offered lightly.
Paige had been chosen by Yaseer—a decision she never took for granted.
Theo, on the other hand, was expected to walk the path. When your father was one of the Admirals, doors didn't just open—they were already waiting. Still, no amount of training removed the weight that came with that power. And both of them felt it now, more than ever.
"You really think the Cleaner's son isn't worth finding?" Paige asked.
Theo didn't answer immediately. Then he said, "I think if he's real, great. But if he's not? We can't afford to wait around hoping someone else will help us to face this calamity."
Paige looked at him for a long moment. Then she nodded. "I get it," she said.
Theo raised an eyebrow. "That sounds dangerously close to agreement."
She turned and started walking again. "Don't push it."
He smiled anyway and followed. No declarations. No promises. Just two operatives, both walking the same path—one they didn't choose, but had committed to anyway.
The Path of Aegis.
And somewhere ahead of them, war was coming. Whether or not the Cleaner's son existed… they planned to be ready.
Paige continued to walk alone, her footsteps echoing softly through the underground wing of Aegis HQ. Most agents referred to it as the Core—a massive, shielded tech vault where the laws of science were constantly bent, broken, and rebuilt again. If Aegis had a brain, this was it.
And somewhere near the heart of it all, surrounded by tools no civilian would ever see and tech that probably shouldn't exist yet, was Yaseer.
She found him in Lab 4A—lights dimmed, vents humming, and every monitor glowing faint green from the eerie aura of the object floating in the center of the chamber.
The Corrupted Ring.
It hung midair, rotating slowly as if caught between gravity and something worse. Pale black tendrils shimmered from its surface like smoke underwater, and Paige didn't have to ask to know what it was trying to do.
It was searching.
Trying to escape. Trying to latch onto something living.
Yaseer stood just a few steps back, arms folded, his face calm—focused. He looked nothing like Gary when he worked. Where Gary radiated physical dominance and battlefield grit, Yaseer looked more like someone who belonged behind a desk at a university. Tousled hair. A lab coat that never sat straight on his shoulders. Thin-framed glasses kept slipping down his nose no matter how many times he pushed them back up.
But his mind?
Sharp. Fast. Brilliant.
Paige didn't speak. She knew better.
Ten seconds passed. Then twenty.
And just like before, the ring twitched—once—then shot upward like it had caught a scent. It phased straight through the reinforced ceiling with a sharp crackle of energy, vanishing in the blink of an eye.
Gone. Again.
Yaseer finally let out a long breath and turned toward her with a tired smile. "Hey, Paige."
She stepped closer, hands in her pockets. "That was number ten, wasn't it?"
He nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yup. Ten rings. Ten failures."
"But you're still smiling," Paige noted.
Yaseer chuckled. "I'm stubborn. Not stupid. Every failure teaches me something. Like how absolutely out of my depth I still am."
She looked at the now-empty containment pod. "What's the problem? The sacks used by Elion and Jordan managed to hold theirs."
Yaseer was already shaking his head. "And that's what keeps me up at night. I've analyzed that footage a hundred times. Material? Unknown. The stitching is organic, but I've never seen the compound. But it's the symbols—Paige, they don't match any known language, magical or scientific. I don't even know where to start."
Paige furrowed her brow, something clicking in the back of her mind. "Wait… how did the Cleaner store the Corrupted Rings?"
"He didn't contain them," he said.
She raised an eyebrow. "Then how?"
Yaseer stepped over to a console, tapping a few keys to shut down the residual aura trace. "His ring absorbed them. All of them. No sack. No storage. Just... absorbed."
Paige stared. "Absorbed Corrupted Essence?"
He nodded again. "Fully. Safely. Like the ring itself was built for it. I asked him once how it worked. He said he'd teach me."
"And?"
Yaseer looked down at his hands.
"He didn't get the chance."
The silence that followed was heavy. Not just with the weight of lost knowledge—but with what it meant. That even after all these years, the secrets the Cleaner held were still echoing through everything they faced.
Paige glanced toward the ceiling, where the ring had escaped. Her voice was quiet now.
"Then we better hope one of those three out there inherited more than just his blood."
Yaseer pushed up his glasses and sighed. "Or we're gonna run out of walls before we find something that can stop them."