Extra Basket-Chapter 105 - 92: Syndicate Arc (15)

Charles sat in the dimly lit lab, his eyes fixed on the child through the glass. The prototype. The perfect weapon. His creation, a mindless tool, doing exactly as programmed. Yet, the victory he had once craved felt hollow now. This wasn’t the breakthrough he had imagined. This wasn’t success.

The child before him had no free will, no desires of its own, no hope, no dreams. It was a machine, nothing more. And yet, something gnawed at Charles as he watched it move, flawless and obedient. Was this truly what he had been working towards all these years?

Was this the ultimate goal? To strip away everything that made someone human and turn them into a tool?

Charles ran his hands over his face, feeling the weight of his choices pressing down on him. This wasn’t the outcome he had hoped for. The child wasn’t a victory, it was a reminder of how far he’d fallen, how much he’d sacrificed. But there was no turning back now. He had already crossed a line, and there was no going back.

The door to the lab clicked shut behind him.

...

Later, Charles found himself standing in front of Eddie Carter’s house. He wasn’t sure what had brought him here, but something about the weight of his own failure made him seek out the only person who might understand. The last person who had been part of his past before all this madness began.

As Charles stood there for a moment, the weight of everything pressing down on him as he stared at the door. He wasn’t sure what had brought him here, what had made him seek Eddie out after all these years. But something about the emptiness inside him drove him to it. Maybe it was the failure in the lab, the emptiness he now felt when he looked at the child he had created, that cold reminder of what he had become.

When the door opened, Eddie’s face lit up with surprise. "Charles, you’re here? I was shocked when you called." he said, his voice warm, though his eyes betrayed a flicker of curiosity.

Charles forced a smile, though it felt strained. "Well, I just wanted to see an old friend. Can I?" His voice cracked slightly, betraying the sadness he couldn’t quite hide.

Eddie raised an eyebrow, clearly noticing the heaviness in Charles’s tone. But without hesitation, he stepped back and gestured for him to come inside. "Of course. Come on in."

As Charles stepped inside, he was immediately struck by how normal everything seemed. The house was warm, filled with the sounds of life, laughter, footsteps, the hum of everyday life. It was a stark contrast to the sterile silence of his lab.

A voice came from the hallway. "Father, who is that?"

Charles turned to see Jalen Carter, standing at the top of the stairs. He was tall for his age, his frame already showing signs of the athlete he was becoming. His eyes, sharp and calculating, looked at Charles with curiosity.

Charles smiled, trying to hide the unease he felt. "It’s your Uncle Charles." he said, his voice softer than he intended.

Jalen blinked, his expression shifting slightly as he took in the man before him. "Ah...." He gave a light laugh, clearly unsure of who Charles was, but the hint of a smile tugged at his lips, a glimpse of the boyish charm Eddie had passed down to him.

Eddie smiled fondly at his son, then turned his gaze back to Charles. "Come in." he said again, stepping aside.

Charles hesitated only for a second before stepping inside. The warmth of the home wrapped around him—a quiet hum of life, soft lighting, the faint smell of dinner lingering in the air. It was a far cry from the cold, mechanical silence of the lab he’d just come from. For a brief moment, the weight on his chest eased. Just a little.

He looked around the cozy living room, filled with photos on the walls and shelves cluttered with little signs of a life well lived. He cleared his throat. "Where’s your wife and Caleb?"

Eddie scratched the back of his neck. "Oh, right. Field trip. Caleb’s school had one this weekend. My wife volunteered to help out. So, it’s just me and Jalen for now."

"Uh... okay," Charles murmured, awkwardly nodding. The silence that followed was thick.

Jalen shuffled at the edge of the room, clearly picking up on the tension. "I, uh... I’ll just go to my room." he said, already turning toward the hallway.

"Alright, son." Eddie said gently, watching his son go.

As Jalen disappeared around the corner, Charles found himself staring after him. Then, almost absentmindedly, he said, "I’m happy for you, Eddie. Really. You deserve this."

Eddie’s grin faded slightly. His eyes, clear, sharp, and familiar settled on Charles with quiet concern. "Charlie... what’s eating you, man? I’ve known you long enough to tell when something’s wrong."

Charles looked away, his jaw tightening. "I guess you could say I’ve been... busy. Too busy. But I never asked you, what’s it really like? The life you’ve built for yourself?"

Eddie raised an eyebrow, caught off guard by the question. He leaned against the armrest of the couch, arms loosely crossed. "What’s it like?" he repeated, then smiled thoughtfully. "It’s not flashy, if that’s what you’re thinking. Sure, there’s still basketball—can’t get that out of my system. But it’s more than that now. It’s the little things. Family dinners. Helping with homework. Seeing Jalen grow up. It’s not the game that keeps me going anymore. It’s them."

Charles listened, saying nothing, but every word hit harder than the last. Eddie had what he’d always wanted: a family, a home, peace. And he made it sound so... easy.

Eddie added, "I’m not chasing the spotlight anymore, Charlie. I’ve got what matters. I’ve got something real. Something worth living for."

Charles looked down at his hands; hands that had built something monstrous. Something inhuman. He couldn’t help but wonder when exactly he’d veered so far off course.

The bitterness crept in like a slow burn.

Of course, Eddie had made it work. Of course everything had fallen perfectly into place for him. He’d always been the golden one—on the court, in life. And Charles? He had thrown everything away just to try and catch up.

He had abandoned his wife. Neglected his son. All to feed his obsession with beating Eddie. Charles had buried himself in his work, convincing himself it was all for a greater purpose. But in truth, it was pride. Pride and envy. The need to prove he was better. That he wasn’t second-best.

And what did he have to show for it?

A cold, sterile lab. A lifeless creation that mirrored none of the warmth he saw in Eddie’s home. And a guilt that gnawed at his insides like rust eating away at steel.

His jaw tightened. The bitterness surged again not at Eddie, not really. Eddie had simply lived his life. But the injustice of it all, the contrast between what he had and what Charles had lost, was unbearable.

Charles turned away, the weight in his chest threatening to crush him. There were no more words. Only regret. The kind that never leaves you.

"I have to go," he said, voice low and hoarse.

Eddie frowned. "Already? You just got here, man. We barely talked."

"I just wanted to check on you," Charles muttered, forcing a faint smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Eddie studied him for a moment. "You’re acting weird... Listen, whatever you’re mixed up in—don’t do anything stupid, alright?"

Charles smiled again, but it was tired, hollow. "You don’t have to worry about me."

Eddie gave a small nod, though his eyes lingered with concern. "Alright... well, take care, Charlie."

Charles nodded back. Then turned and walked out the door.

As he stepped into the night, the cold air hit his face like a slap. The weight returned to his shoulders, heavier than ever.

I gave up everything for you, Eddie...

And you got to keep it all.

The anger that had been simmering inside him finally began to boil. Every laugh he heard from inside that house echoed in his ears like mockery. Every framed photo on the wall, every sign of a life well-lived—it all burned.

He stopped walking. ƒrēewebnoѵёl.cσm

Stared ahead into the night.

His breath came out in fogged puffs, steady but shaking with something deeper.

And then the thought came, sharp, poisonous, and undeniable.

"I’ll take everything you have, Eddie," he whispered to the empty street, his voice trembling with fury. "I will."

His eyes narrowed, not with rage alone, but with purpose.

"I will."

The night swallowed his words, but the promise had been made.

And Charles never broke a promise—not anymore.

.....

Back to the present

"Eddie..." Charles Freeman thought, heart crumbling under the weight of it all, "why were you so special...?" His hand trembled around the cold metal of the pistol. The silence in the room was suffocating too thick. The children lay unconscious on the floor, their bodies limp and vulnerable.

"NO!!!" Ethan shouted, his voice breaking through the thick silence like a desperate cry for help.

"STOP!" Lucas cried, his face pale, eyes wide with panic, but Freeman was too far gone to hear reason.

Brandon, Evan, and Louie moved all at once, their bodies surging toward him in a futile attempt to stop the inevitable.

"FREEMAN!!"

But Freeman gave them all a small, broken smile. A ghost of the man he used to be. His eyes locked on theirs, distant, haunted. And for a fleeting moment, his hardened heart cracked open.

"Too late," he whispered, voice hoarse with regret, but his eyes gleamed with something else—something far darker.

Bang!

The gunshot split the air, a deafening sound that felt like it had come from another world. Freeman’s body jerked backward, then crumpled to the floor. The pistol slipped from his hand, skidding across the blood-streaked tiles. For a long moment, no one moved. The ringing in the ears of the survivors drowned out everything. There was nothing but the heavy, suffocating silence.

And Before Charles Freeman died his mind flashed back. The memories of laughter and basketball jerseys. He and Eddie, kids again, laughing as they raced down the court. They were so young, so full of life.

Maybe... maybe I just wanted someone to stop me before I went too far.

As his final breath escaped him, Freeman’s eyes closed slowly. The cold, hard peace of it all settled over him.

Someone Shouted "NO!"

It was Ethan who screamed, rushing toward Freeman’s body, his hands trembling as he pressed them against the cold, lifeless head. It was too late. The blood spread quickly, staining the floor, staining everything. Freeman’s eyes stared upward, wide and vacant, the lifelessness more peaceful than the man had ever been in life.

Lucas looked over at the children and Louie, shivering as he came to his senses. Norris was there too, standing guard, eyes still set on Freeman’s body, unable to shake the weight of everything that had transpired.

And yet, there was one thing—one thing that Freeman hadn’t been able to escape: Eddie Carter.

To be continue