John grabbed BK by the collar, "What nonsense are you talking about?!"

BK allowed that, glared at John in the eye and then to John's hands around his shirt. John took several deep breaths to calm down, and released BK.

BK smoothened down his shirt and replied, "From what little bit I got, the High Table wanted another John Wick and at the same time, some sort of leverage over you. You do remember what sort of medical examinations we had to go through, right?"

John nodded. All sorts of samples were given, from hair, blood, sweat, and semen.

"Artificial insemination, using your sperm and the egg of a woman you hooked up with, and planted into a surrogate mother," BK explained.

"What's the point of all of that?!" John roared, partly angry at the audacity, partly flabbergasted at the weirdness of it all.

BK looked at him with a slight sneer, "I don't know what's going on in their minds, but they wanted another 'John Wick'. As if you're the only elite assassin in the group. There was no BK Jr or what-not."

BK then went on in a slight tantrum, with his displeased face about why were the High Table so blind and could only see 'John Wick' ...

After listening to BK rambling on for a few minutes, John impatiently said, "So create another John Wick and get rid of the old one?"

BK laughed, "Getting rid of you was never their intention. You're the one that started it all to get under their skin. Your son was created to 'fill in the void' to replace you. Yes, they wanted another John Wick - but one that they could control forever."

"Wait. You said I had more than one son?" John questioned again, picking out that detail he remembered.

"Well, after you got married ... the others were seen as excess baggage," BK said, waiting for John's reaction.

A flicker of hurt flashed through John's eyes, soon to be replaced with intense anger. He was already damn p*ssed with the High Table, but this certainly took the cake. The anger he felt was far beyond anything he had ever experienced before.

Then he thought of his one, last, remaining son. Zenith. How he looked like, standing there. Dangerous yet ... ethereal. John supposed that's how a Fallen Angel would look like?

"He's got her eyes," John said suddenly, "She had the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen."

John gripped his hands so tightly that it turned white.

"They're going to pay," John muttered, "Eliminating those who betrayed me isn't enough. I'm going to raze them all to the ground until there's nothing left. Not a single High Table member ... and Winston ... will get through this."

"What about your son then?" BK asked, drumming his fingers on the sofa.

John looked up at him and said, "Something is not quite right there. I will need more information. Can you dig it out for me with your contacts?"

BK rubbed his chin, "Depends. What is it?"

"You said he was created to replace me," John said, "Presumably they already figured I was going to leave, sooner or later."

"That's right," BK confirmed.

"So why did he want to kill me?" John asked, "I could see that conflict in his eyes. I could hear the hatred in his voice."

"I have never met him before, and never knew of his existence - but he knew of me. Just what nonsense did they put into his mind for him to have that much hatred?" John asked.

The last thing he wanted to do was kill his own son. Would he be able to do it?

His son, with his wife Helen, should have been the most beautiful and wonderful creation, a legacy of such a wonderful woman. He could tell, even from that brief moment, that Zenith was as skilled and ruthless as he was - but he refused to believe that Zenith didn't inherit any of his mother's kindness and gentleness.

The characteristics that saved John Wick's soul could not have been obliberated in their son.

The High Table must have done something, he was sure of it.

They will pay.

✿✿

Zenith's was drifting in and out of consciousness, hardly responding to those around him.

He had been holding on by sheer willpower alone for the past week, so once he was taken out of that place, it was as if everything in his body just broke down. His heart even stopped for a bit, but they managed to resusitate him.

Zenith also had no desire to fight for his life.

He had met the man he hated, and had been dreaming of killing for so long - yet, he could not pull the trigger once the opportunity arose. He was frustrated at himself, he was angry but most of all. He was tired.

So tired.

Zenith's condition was so severe that they had to undergo emergency treatment. Luckily, Jack had caught it in time. Otherwise, he would have had to answer to the High Table why his charge had died under torture.

As it is, the two dumb torturers were now having their fingernails pulled out. To have been so engrossed in their own desire to make Zenith cave in, that they failed to notice his condition, was a mistake so severe that a quick death was out of the question.

Jack watched as the unconscious boy had an IV inserted, his hands tied to the edge of the bed to prevent him from pulling out the IV line. The IV bag had a warm solution of salt water, which was used to warm the blood.

A nasal tube was also inserted, allowing humidified oxygen to be administered into the body directly so that the airways would be warmed up and help raise the temperature of the body.

They were even prepared to employ the intravascular temperature control catheter (IVTCC) but that plan was put on hold. It would only be used if the other measures were not successful. From what Jack could see, the IVTCC would not likely need to be used.

Even now, Zenith's body temperature was slowly rising, and that was a good sign. They could not warm him up using electric blankets or direct heat onto his skin as that was akin to putting a cold steak on a very hot pan. The cold steak being Zenith, of course.

He had to be heated up slowly, from within.

"When will he be able to get back to action?" Jack asked the attending physicians around him.

"It will take another month or so for him to be fully operational, but the prognosis is good," the main doctor replied.

"So we have that long a grace period?" muttered Dan, who was standing beside him.

Jack didn't answer at first and waited for the doctor to get out of hearing range before replying, "If he survives, the High Table wants to use him to get John. Now that they've met and he knows Zenith exists, the High Table will utilise what they can."

"You think John is going to fall for that again? The last time they asked for a parley, he was nearly killed! What more now, when the parties involved are those who betrayed him already?" hissed Dan.

"The High Table orders, I merely obey," recited Jack mindlessly.

Dan couldn't stand that part of Jack. Though he knew that that was exactly why Jack was placed to be Zenith's mentor. They needed a mindless monkey robot to do whatever they wanted, and do it efficiently.

So Dan started ranting.

He wasn't afraid of the repercussion from Jack since they've known each other for so long. Jack would often use Dan as a sounding board and he knew Dan was loyal. So he allowed Dan to rant once in a while.

"It's still stupid. What are they hoping to achieve?" Dan complained, "Have father and son work together?"

"Get rid of John? They haven't succeeded yet and we keep losing more assassins!"

"Use Zenith to control John? As if. Zenith hates John to the core. Who wouldn't with all the lies we've been feeding Zenith with since the day he was born,"

At that, Jack suddenly glared at Dan, who just shrugged, "What? No one is close enough to hear me and Zenith is dead to the world."

"Still, it's not good to say it out loud like that, in public. You never know," Jack warned, "And stop using 'dead' when referring to Zenith."

Dan ignored him, "You're so superstitious, Jack. How did you ever survive here?"

Jack didn't answer, as that didn't really need an answer now, did it?

"Still, you ought to be careful," said Dan finally, after a few minutes of silence, "If Zenith ever found out the truth about his father, I doubt any of us would ever survive."

"So shut your trap and just go with the plan," Jack hissed, turning on his heels and walking out.

Dan watched him go and went closer to Zenith, peering at his face. The guy was pale as a sheet although his lips weren't as blue anymore.

"I wonder how it felt," Dan said under his breath as he studied Zenith closely, "To meet with your father and yet, not able to kill him. Such a wimp. Acting like you're all that yet, in the end, fail miserably."

He waited, not seeing any reaction and he smiled. He was right. Zenith truly was dead to the world. If he had been awake, there was no way that Zenith wouldn't have tried to kill him in retaliation.

Dan stood up then and breathed a sigh of relief.

"How ironic is it that you hate the one man that would love you unconditionally - if he actually knew you existed. Him, abandoning you and ordering the hit on the other kids? What a joke. He may be a cold assassin but he was a devoted husband and would have been a devoted father."

"Did you know he started all this feud just because some stupid punk kid killed the dog your dead mother left him? So stupid."

"You devote your life to the one who lies and wouldn't hesitate to betray you, yet would kill the one that would die for you," Dan rattled on, enjoying the thought.

He left, while muttering, "How ironic indeed."

As he left, he didn't notice that Zenith's eyes opened a little bit, a glint of something indescribable flashing within it as he stared at that back leaving.