Above Zenith

Maeve’s brutal, confident words dropped like a heavy bomb in the tense, suffocating atmosphere of the Vance estate staircase. The sheer weight of her declaration froze Elise, Caleb, and Nolan in a state of indignant anger. Their minds reeled. They simply could not fathom how a girl who spent thirteen grueling years rotting in a backward, impoverished village could return with such blinding, unearned arrogance. Caleb felt a scorching heat rise in his chest. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the banister, his fingernails biting into the polished wood. He wanted to scream. He wanted to shake some sense into this blind, foolish sister who dared to disrespect the elite hierarchy of Valerius. Even the big shots at the prestigious Zenith Sanctum always maintained a strict level of humility, acknowledging that there was always someone better out there in the vast, dangerous world. None of those esteemed, battle-hardened fighters would ever dare to utter the arrogant nonsense Maeve had just spewed.

Before Caleb’s flushed face could explode into a screaming fit, a booming, authoritative voice echoed from the entrance of the grand residence. The heavy mahogany doors swung open with a resounding thud, and a towering figure stepped inside the foyer.

"Young lady, that is a big mouth you have got for someone your age. You said no one in Valerius can teach you? What about me?" the man barked.

The voice vibrated with raw power, demanding immediate obedience. The man standing in the doorway was none other than Bronson Graves. He was a walking, breathing legend within the city. Dressed in sleek, dark sportswear, with a square jaw, slicked-back hair, and a thick beard on his chin, he surveyed the foyer with a commanding gaze. As the reigning president of the Altria Combat Association and the feared vice president of Crownpoint University, his reputation preceded him everywhere he went. He was a multiple-time world champion in international fighting tournaments and a ruthless martial arts innovator who had created a brand-new style of combat on his own. In his respective field, Bronson stood several towering levels above Helena, the expert instructor Elise had bragged about earlier.

Furthermore, it was rumored that just two months ago, Bronson had submitted his official application to be inducted into the ultra-elite Zenith Sanctum. Earning that miraculous chance by the age of forty proved his monstrous, undeniable talent. His massive, imposing physical presence alone commanded immediate, terrified awe from everyone in the room. He looked up at Maeve like a giant eagle locking onto its prey, eager to see what kind of girl possessed the nerve to talk so big in his presence.

Recognizing the titan before him, Caleb’s burning anger morphed into desperate panic. Caleb was a gun fanatic currently training under a strict professional marksman. He was driven by a burning desire to secure a future, rare recommendation for Zenith Sanctum. Joining the Sanctum was a mythical dream most people would never reach, not even after a lifetime of blood and sweat. Caleb knew he might need Bronson’s direct help and immense influence for that life-changing recommendation someday. Seeing this living legend insulted by his own sister was a waking nightmare.

Caleb rushed forward and bowed slightly, his heart hammering hard against his ribs. "It really is you, Mr. Graves. Please forgive this. This is my sister. She just returned from a rural village. She lacks formal education and speaks without thinking. I am so sorry you had to hear that nonsense."

He attempted to excuse his newly returned sister's blatant ignorance before turning his wrath on her. Desperate to save face and salvage the situation, he glared up at the staircase, his eyes wide with frantic urgency.

"Maeve! Get over here and apologize to Mr. Graves right now!" Caleb ordered.

Elise watched the scene unfold from the sidelines. She was thrilled. After just three days back home, Maeve was digging her own social grave and ruining whatever tiny shred of goodwill their mother and brothers might have harbored. Elise thought Maeve was a total idiot. Sure, her older sister was beautiful, but her brain was not even a fraction as sharp as her own. Elise decided to fan the flames. She did not want the drama to die down. She stepped forward, letting her eyes widen with fake concern, and layered her voice with her signature, sickening sweetness.

"Maeve, please listen to Caleb. Even if you have never seen the real world and do not know what Zenith Sanctum means, you have at least heard of the Sovereign, right? That man controls the global economy. One stomp of his foot could shake the entire globe. And Mr. Graves here? He actually met one of the Sovereign's top three protectors. Siren." Elise paused.

She waited with eager, bated breath. Siren was one of the most elite, ruthless mercenaries in the world. Elise was certain that Maeve had never even heard of her, let alone understood the gravity of the terrifying name. From the corner of her eye, Elise saw Maeve standing at the top of the stairs, her body turned slightly, her slim shoulder twitching. Elise smiled inwardly. She was certain that Maeve was currently trembling in her cheap shoes on the stairs, about to bow her head in terrified, humiliating submission before the combat legend.

Instead, Maeve’s reaction defied all logic. She slowly turned around on the top step. She shoved one hand deep into the pocket of her worn tracksuit and let out a low, almost pitying chuckle.

She did not offer a single, solitary glance to the looming Bronson, the smug Elise, or her panicking brothers. Maeve simply strolled down the stairs. Her footsteps were light, devoid of any hesitation or fear. She walked right past the entire group, her face a mask of icy indifference. She treated the revered living legend of Valerius as if he were invisible, a mere ghost occupying space in her hallway.

The Vance siblings stared in sheer, paralyzed disbelief. Their jaws went slack. Bronson, a man who had commanded respect through violence his entire life and a soon-to-be member of Zenith Sanctum, had never faced such blatant, disrespectful dismissal. Especially not from a frail, backwoods brat fresh out of a village.

His face flushed a deep violet with fury. The disrespect burned his pride. Arrogant students like this were the ones he hated most. Full of themselves. Blindly confident. Losers like that never made it anywhere near the hallowed halls of Zenith Sanctum.

"Stop right there! This is outrageous! I am going to be your teacher, like it or not! You think you can just walk away from me like that? Where are your manners?" Bronson roared.

His voice cracked through the hall like a drill sergeant barking at a rookie, shaking the grand chandelier hanging above. He stormed after her. Driven by a bruised ego and a dark determination to physically and mentally crush this confident girl into her proper place, Bronson reached out his massive hand. He prepared to unleash a devastating, complex new combat technique he recently acquired directly from the edges of Zenith Sanctum. His thick, muscular fingers hooked into a brutal grip, aiming to grab her shoulder and force her to her knees in front of her family. He wanted to make sure she felt the pain down to her bones.

The very next second, the temperature in the room seemed to drop below freezing. Maeve’s bored eyes suddenly flashed with a cold, deadly intent. She did not even bother to look up. She did not turn her body.

Her left hand shot out of her pocket. It moved faster than the human eye could track, bypassing Bronson's complex technique with horrifying, perfect precision. Her slender fingers clamped down on his thick, heavy wrist like a steel vice.

In one fluid, brutal motion, Maeve twisted and bent his wrist backward against its natural joint.

A sickening, distinct snap rang through the large, empty hall.

The gruesome sound of breaking bones echoed off the marble walls, followed by Bronson Graves, the combat legend of Valerius, letting out a piercing, agonizing scream. His knees buckled under the immense force of the break, and he collapsed toward the floor in agonizing pain.