The field of victory turned into a field of terror.
Blue, red, yellow, green—none of the colors mattered now.
Only fear.
Fenrir stood tall above the running crowd,
his fur like shadows woven in smoke,
his eyes glowing with a hunger not for flesh—
but for something deeper.
"Find the hybrid," he growled to his pack.
"The one born from the Bang."
Nel stood frozen.
Children screamed around him. Teachers ushered them toward the gates.
But the monsters were faster.
One leapt toward a girl—Cyra—
the same girl who had once beat him in exams.
Nel didn't think. He moved.
One step—his foot cracked the ground.
One breath—air shimmered around him.
He caught the wolf midair—
caught it—
and threw it into the field post like it weighed nothing.
Gasps. Silence.
Even the wolves paused.
Nel blinked at his own hands.
They shimmered for a moment with cosmic light—
then vanished.
"There he is!" Fenrir roared.
The pack lunged.
Nel ran.
Not away—but forward.
He ducked, rolled, kicked, dodged.
Every move felt guided, like instincts written in stardust.
He didn't know how he was doing it.
He just was.
He led the wolves away from the crowd,
toward the old equipment shed behind the field.
One wolf cut him off—too fast—jaws wide—
But before it could bite—
a rock smashed its head in.
It was Kriz Neo.
Followed by Easter Maniac, holding a steel pole like a warrior queen.
"Thought we'd let you have all the fun?" she smirked.
Behind them, little Elly May hid with wide eyes,
and Kriztan Nico clutched a branch like a sword.
The Sazaly siblings had arrived.
And the real fight was just beginning.