Villain With The Absolute Evil Sytem
Chapter 70 - 68 : The Vanguard’s Secret

Chapter 70: Chapter 68 : The Vanguard’s Secret

Lumian was woken up by the sharp chime of the doorbell, a sound that cut through the lingering fog of his sleep like a blade. He stirred in the bed, the sheets tangled around his legs, and realized Trinity had already reached the door.

The faint hum of the automatic panel sliding open drifted into the room as he sat up, rubbing the back of his neck. Still naked from the night before, he swung his legs over the edge and padded across the hardwood floor, unbothered by his state.

He opened the door to meet her, and Trinity’s reaction was immediate. She slapped a hand over her eyes, her lips twisting into a grimace. "You live up to your name, huh’the naked hero,’" she muttered, her voice filled with sarcasm.

Lumian glanced down at himself, registering his lack of clothes for the first time, and let out a low chuckle. "Give me a minute," he said, turning back into the room without waiting for her response.

The closet had been stocked with an array of clothes, each piece hanging neatly on padded hangers. He ran his fingers over the fabrics; silk shirts, tailored jackets, pants with subtle stitching that hinted at luxury.

They all carried a faint, clean scent, like they’d been pressed and perfumed just for him. He selected a black ensemble pants that fit snugly, a jacket with a high collar, and boots that clicked faintly against the floor as he pulled them on. The outfit felt like it belonged to someone important, someone powerful, and he smirked at the thought.

Dressed, he stepped back into the main room and found Trinity waiting by the door, her arms crossed. "Lead the way," he told her, his tone casual but edged with command. She didn’t move at first, her gaze sliding past him to where Shirley still lay sprawled by the window, naked and unconscious, her skin marked by the night’s roughness.

Trinity scoffed, her thoughts plain on her face: ’I should’ve known he was that type of person.’ She turned without a word and headed for the hallway, expecting him to follow.

"Ready?" she asked, her tone clipped. "Or do you need more time to play with your pet?"

They reached an elevator, its polished steel doors reflecting their distorted figures as they stepped inside. The ride was silent at first, the hum of the machinery filling the space, until Trinity reached into her jacket and pulled out a card.

She handed it to him, her fingers brushing his briefly. It was his Hero ID—his name was engraved in bold letters, followed by "Rank: S (Provisional)." The word "provisional" stood out, a quiet reminder that his place wasn’t set in stone, since the Vanguard’s evaluation never truly ended. He tucked it into his pocket without comment.

The elevator halted at the highest floor, and Trinity led him down a wide corridor to a set of double doors. Even before they reached it, Lumian felt the weight of the room beyond, an aura that pressed against his skin, thick with strength and intent.

Trinity pushed the doors open, revealing a conference chamber that stretched wide and grand. A massive screen dominated one wall, flickering faintly with static, while windows like the one in his apartment framed the city’s skyline. At the center sat a round table, its surface gleaming under the light, surrounded by seven chairs.

Four of those chairs were occupied. A woman with sharp features and a faint scar across her cheek watched him enter. Two men sat opposite her one broad-shouldered with a stern jaw, the other leaner, his eyes half-lidded.

A boy, no older than twelve, perched on the edge of his seat, engrossed in a tablet. Their combined presence hit Lumian like a wave, a force so potent that a lesser person might’ve buckled, vomited or fainted under the pressure. He held his ground, meeting their stares as Trinity took her seat at the table.

For a moment, he stood there, assessing them, before sliding into one of the empty chairs. The heroes exchanged glances, their expressions unreadable, then turned back to him. Trinity broke the silence. "I told you he was arrogant," she said, her voice clipped.

"So it seems," the broad-shouldered man replied, his tone dry.

The woman tilted her head, her lips curving slightly. "I don’t see it as arrogance."

Trinity’s eyes narrowed. "What else is it? He’s in the presence of ’the’ Vanguard, and he doesn’t even acknowledge us, just assumes a seat at the table."

"Where else was he supposed to sit?" the woman countered, her voice was calm. "On the floor?"

Trinity scoffed and flipped open a file in front of her, the pages rustling sharply. The woman turned to Lumian, offering a small, genuine smile. "I’m Stella, a member of the Vanguard," she said. "This is Gavric" she nodded to the broad man "and Toren" the lean one "and that’s Clinton." The boy didn’t look up from his tablet. "Welcome."

Lumian nodded, flashing her a brief, charming smile in return. Stella’s expression softened. "Sorry about Trinity’s hostility," she added. "It’s because of the incident with Voltstrike."

Lumian raised a brow, leaning back in his chair. "How does that affect her attitude toward me?"

The others glanced at Trinity, whose grip tightened on the file, her knuckles whitening. Stella continued, unfazed. "I’m surprised you don’t know. Trinity and Michael Browning ; Voltstrike were siblings. She’s his older sister."

Lumian’s eyes widened, just a fraction, though he masked it quickly. The corner of his mouth twitched upward, barely noticeable. ’Interesting,’ he thought, filing the revelation away. That explained the hostility she’d carried since the moment they’d met.

Trinity slammed the file shut. "That’s enough," she snapped. "We didn’t come here for that." She faced Lumian, her stare hard. "You’re in the presence of the Vanguard, five of the strongest people in the world are in this room. Not all our members are here, but when one of us stands in a room, the Vanguard stands with them."

Lumian’s gaze drifted over them, lingering on the boy tapping away at his tablet. ’The world’s strongest? Even him?’ he mused. Stella caught his look and smiled again, while Gavric’s judgmental stare bore into him. Toren remained expressionless, and Clinton ignored him entirely.

Trinity pressed on. "I’m sure you feel it too, our strength. You know it’d be wise to comply with what we tell you. So tell us everything that happened when you got sucked into the ground where you went, what you saw. Leave nothing out."

Lumian frowned, his posture stiffening. "Aren’t you all heroes?" he asked, his voice low but pointed. "Why does it feel like you’re threatening me for information? I expected more from the highest caliber of heroes."

Gavric leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. "You’ve got guts, talking like that in our presence."

Stella raised a hand, her tone soothing. "Calm down, Gavric. He’s right." She looked at Lumian, apologetic. "What Trinity meant was that it’d benefit everyone if you shared what happened during your rank evaluation, when you disappeared."

Lumian met her gaze, then shifted it to Trinity and the others. A slow smile spread across his face. "I didn’t see anything," he said smoothly. "I just fell through the floor when it crumbled and landed in the level below."

Trinity barked a laugh, sharp and incredulous. "Bullshit. He’s lying."

Stella smirked, her eyes glinting with something knowing. "That’s not possible."

’Time to find out what they know,’ Lumian thought. He leaned forward, his voice steady. "And why is that not possible? Is there something I should have seen or somewhere I should have gone?"

Stella smiles at Lumian, ’This Lumian is more cunning than I thought, he is probing, trying to figure out what we know’

Stella had begun by leaning forward, her voice softening as she’d said, "I’ll tell you a story, Lumian." The room had grown still, the faint hum of the massive screen behind her fading into the background. She’d taken a breath, her eyes distant, and continued. "Eight years ago, there was a great calamity. The heroes of Earth had struggled to battle it something unlike anything they’d ever faced, something completely otherworldly. No matter what they did, no matter how many powers they threw at it, this calamity didn’t fall. It was so terrible that heroes and villains had to band together, setting aside their wars to fight a common enemy."

She’d paused, her gaze sweeping the table, and then she’d spoken the name. "It called itself Nodens."

Lumian’s ears had twitched at the sound, a subtle reflex he’d barely managed to suppress. The word had echoed in his mind, conjuring the towering, shadowed figure he’d faced , the guttural rasp of "Herald," the weight of its presence that had pressed against his very soul. He’d kept his face impassive, but his pulse had quickened.

Stella had continued, her tone steady but laced with a quiet gravity. "Finally, the strongest hero of that time had managed to seal the calamity. It hadn’t been destroyed, couldn’t be, not by any means we knew but it was contained. Where they’d sealed it, right there on the earth, the Vanguard had built this tower. A monument to victory, and a cage to keep it locked away."

She’d gestured faintly toward the floor, as if pointing through the layers of steel and concrete beneath them. "The rank evaluation room, the one you were in, sits directly above that seal. The technology we use for those evaluations? It’s a mix of modern systems and the energy that’s seeped from the calamity over the years.

We harnessed it, shaped it. The simulation you went through was designed to reenact that day, the day of the calamity. A test of strength, and a reminder of what we survived."

Lumian had listened, piecing it together in his mind. Her words had checked out with what he’d seen the crumbling floor, the pull into that dark abyss, the fleeting glimpse of Nodens before he’d clawed his way back. It made sense, and yet it left him with more questions than answers. He’d stayed silent, letting her finish.

Stella’s voice had grown quieter, almost reverent. "Since it was sealed, no one had gone too close to it. Those who did scientists, heroes, anyone foolish enough either ran mad, raving about voices and shadows, or dropped dead on the spot. So we abandoned it, leaving it buried beneath us. Untouched, until now."

She’d fixed her gaze on him then, her eyes narrowing slightly, her tone shifting to something more serious. "Knowing all this, Lumian, do you still say you didn’t see anything? Didn’t go anywhere? Tell us what you saw, I’m asking you again, and I mean it this time."

Lumian had scratched his chin, his fingers brushing the faint stubble as he’d weighed his options. ’So that’s the extent of their knowledge,’ he’d thought. ’They know Nodens was sealed here, know it’s tied to the evaluation, but they’ve got nothing beyond that nothing that helps me. Why should I give them more?’ He’d seen no advantage in baring the full truth, no leverage to gain from revealing the creature’s words or the power it had stirred in him.

After a beat, he’d sighed and leaned back in his chair. "Fine," he’d said, his voice casual but measured. "I’ll speak. I did see the calamity you’re talking about; Nodens. But it was only for a moment. It was there, huge and dark, and I ran. Kept running until I found myself back with Shirley and Trinity. That’s it."

He’d held back the rest; the way Nodens had loomed over him, the weight of "Herald" sinking into his bones, their brief battle, the hand that pulled him out and the strange pull of its presence that had felt less like a threat and more like a call. There’d been no use telling them that, not when they couldn’t offer him anything in return.

Stella had nodded, her expression softening with relief. "Thank you, Lumian," she’d said. "That’s helpful more than you might realize." She’d smiled then, a lighter, friendlier curve of her lips. "Since it’s your first time in the city, why don’t you go out and sightsee? Get a feel for the place. The street food’s nice you should try some. There’s a vendor by the east plaza who makes the best skewers."

Lumian had caught the shift immediately. She’d gotten what she wanted a scrap of information to chew on and now she’d dismissed him, wrapping it up in a polite suggestion.

He’d felt a flicker of irritation, but he’d known he couldn’t push back, not yet. The power in that room had pressed against him like a physical force: Stella’s quiet authority, Gavric’s brute strength, Toren’s silent menace, even the boy Kael’s eerie focus. They’d been at least as strong as Reinhardt, the benchmark he’d set in his mind, and he’d had no doubt they could crush him if they chose to. For now.

He’d risen from his chair, his thoughts churning. ’Soon,’ he’d promised himself, ’I’ll get stronger. Strong enough to take them all down. They’re just obstacles, high ones, but obstacles all the same. I’ll climb over them, or break them apart.’ His ambitions had burned hot in his chest, a fire he’d kept carefully banked behind his easy smile.

As he’d turned to leave, Toren had glanced at him just a slight tilt of his head, but their eyes had met. The lean man’s gaze had been cold, unreadable, a silent warning that had sent a shiver down Lumian’s spine. He’d brushed it off, stepping past Trinity’s glare and Gavric judging face, and headed for the door.

The conference room had closed behind him with a soft thud, leaving him alone in the corridor. He’d shoved his hands into his pockets, the Hero ID card pressing against his fingers, and muttered to himself, "I hope they have good ice cream here."