CHAPTER 313: CHAPTER 313 ZK’S CHAOS

Liam stood across from Ann in the living room. The light buzzed faintly above them, casting soft shadows across the walls. He looked at her directly, eyes firm.

"I want you to pack your things," he said. "You’re coming with me."

Ann blinked, caught off guard.

"What’s going on?" she asked, voice soft, a little confused.

"I can’t explain right now," Liam replied, already glancing toward the window. "But you need to trust me. Just pack and follow me."

Ann opened her mouth but paused. Something in his voice told her it wasn’t the time to argue. She nodded slowly.

But then she stopped again.

She lowered her head, wringing her hands together nervously. She didn’t look at him when she spoke.

"I’m sorry," she whispered. "For what happened the last time we saw each other."

Liam didn’t need to ask what she meant. His expression didn’t change.

He shook his head slowly.

"So that’s why you’ve been avoiding me?" he asked. "Not answering my calls? Ignoring my messages?"

Ann nodded slightly, still unable to meet his eyes.

"I just didn’t think... I didn’t think you could forgive me."

Liam clicked his tongue in frustration.

"What’s wrong with you?" he said quietly. "That wasn’t even your fault."

Ann looked up at him, startled.

"You were under Boris’s compulsion. That bastard controlled your mind. You didn’t choose to stab me."

"But... b-but—"

He didn’t let her finish.

Liam stepped forward, reached up, and cupped her face with both hands. His palms were warm against her skin. Her eyes widened just as his lips met hers.

The kiss was sudden, full, and passionate. Not soft. Not hesitant. His lips pressed against hers with firm intent, and his hands held her face gently, like he was afraid she’d vanish again if he didn’t anchor her in place. Ann didn’t move at first. Her brain stopped working. She was frozen in place, lips parted slightly, completely stunned.

Her body finally reacted when he tapped her head lightly with his fingers, snapping her out of the daze.

She blinked quickly.

"Go pack," Liam said calmly.

Ann stared at him for another moment, cheeks flushed, heart pounding. Then she nodded.

"O-okay," she said, and turned upstairs.

— — —

A few minutes passed.

When she came back downstairs with a small bag slung over her shoulder, the living room was empty.

"Liam?" she called out, stepping forward.

No response.

But then she heard it—running water. Not from the bathroom. From the kitchen.

She walked toward the sound and turned the corner.

Liam was there, standing at the sink.

He had taken off his shirt. His upper body was covered in soot and dried blood, and dust clung to his hair. He was hunched slightly over the sink, both hands pressed into it as water rushed from the tap. He was splashing it over his face and hair, the water mixing with grime and dripping into the basin below.

Ann froze in the doorway, shocked.

She didn’t say anything at first. She just watched him. Watched how tired he looked. How drained. She hadn’t even asked why he looked so pale, or why his body seemed weak, like it was dragging itself forward out of sheer willpower.

"Are you okay?" she finally asked.

Liam didn’t answer her question.

Instead, he looked at her through the mirror above the sink and asked something else entirely.

"Does your brother have a shirt and boots I can wear?"

Ann blinked, caught off guard again.

"Yeah," she said. "Yeah, he should. Give me a second."

She turned around and left the kitchen to head upstairs again.

Liam waited until her footsteps were gone.

Then he turned back toward the sink and slowly lowered his hand into the running water.

His eyes narrowed.

Something strange was happening.

As the water flowed over his skin, the veins on the back of his hand began to glow—soft at first, then brighter. The light pulsed beneath the surface of his skin, almost golden. It moved with his blood, lighting up every inch it touched.

He didn’t move. He just watched.

The glow wasn’t red, or orange, or blue. It was golden white. Bright, pure, and unsettling. Like his blood had changed completely.

"What the hell is this?" he murmured.

He turned his hand, watching the light flicker through his arm, creeping upward like a living current.

Then, just as quickly as it started, it faded.

He pulled his hand from the water. His skin returned to normal instantly. The light disappeared.

Liam stared at it for a few seconds longer.

No system notification. No explanation.

Just silence.

Liam turned around the moment Ann stepped back into the kitchen. She held fresh clothes in her hands—one of her brother’s shirts and a clean pair of boots. By now, Liam had washed the dirt and blood off his body. His face and arms were clean, his hair damp but free of ash. His expression was steady again.

She handed him the clothes without saying anything at first.

"Thanks," he said simply as he took them from her.

Ann stood there quietly while he pulled the shirt over his head and buttoned it up. She watched him put on the boots, the silence hanging between them again. Then she spoke.

"Where are we going?"

Liam didn’t look up at first.

"To an old factory," he said while finishing with the last button. "Vanessa repurposed it. It’s safe now. Hidden."

Ann nodded. She still didn’t understand what was happening, but she knew this wasn’t the time to ask too many questions.

Even if she had no idea why he had come for her early in the night.

— — —

Back at the factory, Dickson sat lazily in front of the screens. He had one hand holding a sandwich, the other on the keyboard, flipping through different news channels. The room was quiet except for the low murmur of news and the occasional click from the computer.

The girl Vanessa had brought in was still handcuffed to the steel table. She hadn’t said a word since being locked down. Every now and then, she gave the table a subtle tug or tried to shift in her seat, but it didn’t move. She knew she was stuck.

Dickson kept half an eye on her, but most of his focus stayed on the news feeds. Reports were coming in fast now. Some streets had gone dark. Power outages. Looting. Strange weather. Explosions.

Suddenly, a soft whooshing sound cut through the room.

Dickson turned his head toward the surveillance monitor at the entrance.

His brows lifted when he saw the door open. Liam stepped in, and Ann was right behind him.

Dickson leaned back slightly and whispered to himself, "So that’s what he was doing."

When Liam and Ann entered the main hall, Dickson stood up. But there was no grin on his face this time. No smart remarks. His usual sarcasm was gone.

He just nodded slightly at Ann, then looked back at Liam.

Liam noticed it immediately.

"What’s going on?" he asked.

Dickson didn’t answer. He just raised his hand and pointed toward the monitors.

Liam walked closer.

Then he froze.

His eyes scanned across the massive display. Each screen showed something different. But they all painted the same picture.

Chaos.

The city was falling apart.

Multiple news anchors were talking at once, each one covering a different part of the disaster. Footage showed burning buildings. Cars overturned. Police forces overwhelmed. Sirens screamed in the background of every clip. On one channel, an entire block was leveled by what looked like a sonic blast. On another, a businessman in a suit was shooting laser beams from his eyes and laughing as civilians ran in every direction.

Liam stepped closer to the screens.

People were screaming. Emergency responders were failing. The camera panned across a street where dozens of bodies were covered with white sheets. Reporters tried to keep calm, but their fear was obvious.

Ann brought her hand up to her mouth in shock.

"Oh my God..." she whispered.

Now she understood.

She understood why Liam had come to get her.

He hadn’t said it earlier because the words didn’t matter. The city was breaking. People with powers were emerging all over the place, and most of them weren’t interested in helping anyone.

They were tearing everything down.

Suddenly, one of the feeds caught Liam’s attention.

He stepped forward again.

A headline flashed at the bottom of the screen:

"Popular Musician ZK Spotted Causing Major Destruction Near Private Studio Building"

The footage came from a news drone. It zoomed in on a large building surrounded by chaos. Inside, civilians were huddled together, trying to escape. The camera moved across their faces. And then he saw her.

Kelly.

She was there.

His eyes lit up.

He stepped back from the screen and snatched a pen off the table. He tore a piece of paper from the stack nearby and scribbled something down quickly.

A street name. A building number.

He turned to Dickson.

"Go here," Liam said, handing him the paper. "Find Seo Yeon and her mother. Bring them back here."

Dickson raised an eyebrow, glancing at the paper.

"Who the hell is Seo Yeon?"

But when he looked up, Liam was already gone.

The door was still swinging shut.