In a spacious office, people were scattered about—some lounging on couches, others leaning against the walls, a few simply standing.
Impatience hung in the air. A handful wore scowls, others looked bored, and one person even had the audacity to smile.
A man standing near the center tapped his foot in rapid rhythm before letting out an annoyed groan.
"What's taking him so long?" His voice was hoarse and scratchy, matching his short, unkempt brown hair. "Who calls a meeting and then shows up late?"
"Relax, Riot," another man said from a nearby couch, eyes still closed as he leaned back like he had all the time in the world. "He's just running a little late."
"Besides," a younger woman added with a smirk, she was the only person smiling in the room. "he outranks all of us. Even if you wanted to, there's nothing you could do."
Her resemblance to the lounging man was uncanny—same sharp features, same lazy posture. If not for her younger appearance, they could have passed for twins. This was the sibling pair, Ron and Bonny.
"Ron, hold her tongue for her—or I will," Riot snapped at the older sibling.
Before Ron could reply, another voice slid into the conversation. "Didn't your parents teach you to respect your elders, brat?"
The speaker was a tall woman with a long, silky ponytail that draped past her back. Her tight, form-fitting outfit hugged her curves like a second skin, drawing the eye whether one wanted to look or not. She carried herself with the kind of confidence that came from knowing she could crush you—either with a glare or with her hands.
Bonny's smile didn't waver. She knew the woman was talking to her, even though she hadn't looked her way.
"We were orphans. I figured you knew that. But… I guess when you're as old as you are, beauty isn't the only thing that fades huh, Granny Cho."
"Granny?!" Cho froze mid-step, a vein pulsing on her otherwise flawless face. Then, with a dangerous calm, she began walking toward Bonny, intent clear in every step.
But before she could get there she was stopped by another man who stood by her side.
"Calm it, Cho." The man beside her placed his palm lightly against her shoulder, holding her in place as if she weighed nothing.
"Yeah, listen to him, Granny. You might pull something walking that fast." Bonny laughed, her voice dripping with mockery. A few in the room chuckled under their breath.
Cho's jaw clenched. Her eyes flicked up to the man restraining her, silently pleading for permission to make the brat regret her words. But his calm refusal told her everything—she wasn't getting through.
She pressed forward anyway, every muscle in her body tensing as she tried to push past him. He didn't budge, his palm still resting on her like an unmovable wall.
"Besides," a young man seated next to Ron drawled, "I don't think Ron would let you hurt his little sister."
Though his eyes were still closed, the subtle shhhk of steel sliding free made the point clear—his weapon was already unsheathed, casually angled in Cho's direction. He wasn't even looking at her, yet his whole posture dared her to take one more step.
"I guess you were lucky Caid held you back." The young man known as Eli chuckled again.
Cho bit her lip. These two siblings had always annoyed her, but one day they would get what was coming for them.
"Shut up!" Riot shouted. His hoarse voice traveling across the room with ease. "We were all called for a reason, and instead of trying to figure out what it is, you're here arguing like children."
"Who elected him team leader." Eli scoffed.
"Yeah, you're not the boss of me." Bonny piped with an annoyed smile.
Everyone in the room shouted in protest—everyone except one.
And then it hit.
The air thickened, dense and unnatural, as if the room itself had turned to stone. A crushing wave of Chi poured over them, smothering, grinding, swallowing sound itself. Each breath felt like dragging shards of glass into their lungs. Their knees threatened to buckle. Even Bonny, the only one who had dared to smile, felt the blood drain from her face.
It was coming from him. From Caid.
"Riot's tone may need correcting," Caid said at last. His voice carried no effort, no strain. Calm. Cold. Almost bored. Yet every word pressed heavier, as though the syllables themselves carried weight. "But he isn't wrong. We are the highest-ranking members of the Vipers. I suggest we conduct ourselves as such and wait with discipline."
He didn't move. Didn't need to. His Chi seeped into every corner of the room, pressing against their ribs, grinding bone against breath until they felt brittle—prey beneath a predator's shadow.
Caid had no intention of easing the suffocating weight of his Chi. Not until the one who had summoned them arrived. If this was what it took to force the others into silence, then they would choke on it.
The door groaned open. Every head turned, sweat still clinging to their skin, lungs fighting for air. A man stepped inside in a hurried frenzy—yet he did not falter, instead he sat comfortably on the chair in the middle of the room.
"Is it hot in here?" he asked with a casual smile, eyes drifting over the room as though nothing were amiss. "Should we open a window or something?"
This man was Adam Pierce.
Caid ended the suffocating pressure the moment Adam spoke. The air grew lighter, but no one dared to move. They weren't shocked by the Chi vanishing—they were shocked by the man who had walked through it without the faintest sign of struggle, as if he hadn't even noticed it was there.
"Oh, it suddenly got less hot. I guess we can start." Adam chuckled like an idiot, flipping lazily through the stack of files on the desk.
No one laughed with him. The room stayed unnervingly quiet, the echo of Caid's vanished pressure still clinging to their lungs. Their eyes darted to Adam—waiting for a twitch, a gasp, something—but he acted as though nothing had happened at all.
"He didn't even flinch," Bonny whispered, her smile gone.
"Did he… not feel it?" Eli muttered to Ron, his voice tight with unease.
No one had ever seen Adam in action. To most, he was just a shadow of the past—a recruit who had barely lasted a year in the early days of the Vipers, before Bumi himself inexplicably made him Vice Captain. A few of the older members in the room had been there at the beginning, and even they couldn't make sense of it.
"Why did you call this meeting?" Riot asked, skipping all pretense. He never liked Adam, and he never hid it. "Does Bumi even know you did?"
"I assure you," Adam replied, that same crooked smile tugging at his lips, "everything I'm doing is under the Captain's command. His hands are tied with the new recruits at the moment, so he wanted me to head this meeting."
Adam cleared his throat, the sound oddly casual in the tense room. Then, with that ever-present crooked smile, he spoke.
"Good afternoon, generals of the Vipers… and welcome to the first meeting about the end of the Dark Bulls."
**
"Nobody move," Jay whispered.
The three of them froze, eyes locked on the massive serpent coiled above, its shadow blotting out the thin sunlight.
A bead of sweat slid down Chuck's temple.
Instinct won over caution—his hand inched toward his blades.
The snake saw it.
It struck.
The air cracked as its jaws lunged open—wide enough to swallow any one of them whole.
Flu moved first. Both hands shot out, slapping Jay and Chuck's shoulders before his fingers snapped.
Pop!
The world folded. In a blink, they were somewhere else, landing hard on their feet. Flu staggered, his breath ragged. "Sh*t…" His voice was thin. The triple jump had drained him—marking them both with Chi and pulling them across the forest had almost bled him dry.
Leaves shivered.
The serpent was already there.
It glided over the ground like a streak of shadow, eating up the distance in seconds.
Jay stepped forward. Fear clawed at his gut, but his arms came up anyway. He thrust both hands out—whummp!—and a wave of repulsion blasted the snake back.
It skidded, recovered, and came again.
The gap was all they needed.
Jay turned his palms toward Chuck. Bang! The repulsion hurled him forward like a bullet. Blades ready, Chuck closed the distance in a blur—
—and cut air.
"Fast… even for its size," Chuck thought, his eyes snapping upward.
The snake was gone from the ground, its coils now draped across the treetops, golden eyes locked on Flu.
It launched.
Flu dove, rolled through the grass, came up—
—and vanished inside its crushing coils. His body disappeared beneath the writhing mass, the hiss of tightening scales filling the clearing.
"Flu!" Jay bolted forward, shield already spinning from his grip.
CRACK! The disc smashed into the serpent's flank, forcing it to loosen. Flu dropped, gasping.
Jay's arm whipped back, the shield snapping into his grasp. He repelled himself skyward, the shield's edges sharpening mid-flight. Attraction pulled him down faster, blade-edge first, aiming for the creature's skull—
—but the serpent slid aside, its tail snapping like a whip.
WHUD!
The blow crashed into Jay's chest and launched him like driftwood in a storm. He hit the dirt, rolled, breathless.
The snake turned on Flu again, coils spreading—
FWOOSH!
A red-hot slash tore the air. It detonated on impact, blasting the snake backward and freeing Flu for the second time.
Smoke curled in the aftermath.
Chuck stepped forward, short swords lowered at his sides. Red vapor poured off his body, coiling around him like a living thing. Sweat traced down his jaw, his eyes locked on the beast.