Oakwood High School – Wednesday, April 24th, 2013 – 9:48 AM
The morning dragged on with the typical slowness of a Wednesday, while sunlight filtered softly through the wide second-floor windows of Oakwood. Inside classroom 2-A, students still seemed to be absorbing the last few minutes of the second period. At the front, the teacher was wrapping up a geometry explanation with a tired expression, though few were paying attention.
Between whispers and texts exchanged beneath the desks, there was only one topic.
"The fight is today, right?" one boy whispered to the classmate in front of him.
"Yeah… poor Kai. It's gonna be humiliating."
"He doesn't even have a ranking. Liam's in the top 50… it's practically bullying."
"Why even bother watching?" one of them muttered, already turning his focus back to his phone.
"Yeah. Waste of time."
The voices overlapped like waves, and Kai just kept his eyes fixed on the board, seemingly oblivious with his usual detached air.
When the bell rang to signal the break, excitement filled the hallways.
In the corridor near the commons area, Cassie leaned against one of the concrete pillars, watching the flow of students heading to the cafeteria. Her gaze found Kai in the middle of the crowd.
" Everyone just assumes Liam's gonna crush you. There's barely gonna be anyone watching the fight," she said casually, then approached with an apple in each hand. She tossed one toward Kai. "Shame you're gonna lose on purpose… right?"
Kai caught the apple midair, raised an eyebrow, but didn't reply right away. She bit into hers and smiled.
"Makes sense, though. You've been holding back. Keeping a low profile, avoiding attention." She sounded resigned, tucking her hand into her jacket pocket as they walked together toward the cafeteria.
"You think too much, Cassie," Kai replied with a faint smirk.
"Yeah. And you think too little. That's what annoys me."
Seconds later, the boxing club crew showed up. Lana, her hair tied in tight braids, was the first to raise a hand.
"Kai! Good luck today. Even if… you know, Liam wins."
"We believe in you, bro!" Dex shouted, full of energy.
"Just show us something, even if you don't win," Nick added, slapping Kai's shoulder with exaggerated force.
"You survived training with Cassie. That's already a miracle," Amy said.
"That counts as advanced survival skills," Nicole chimed in, arms crossed with a grin.
Kai just waved back with a forced smile.
"Smartasses… you're all screwed tomorrow," Cassie muttered.
They laughed and moved on, leaving Kai standing amid the noise and expectations — and letting out his usual sigh.
This is it. My social battery is almost drained.
Samuel and Kiana joined them for the rest of the break…
On their way back to class, Kiana slowed her pace and stopped beside Kai. Her hands were in the pockets of her fitted blazer, eyes drifting in thought.
"It's funny… everyone thinks you don't stand a chance against him." She glanced sideways, watching for his reaction. "Doesn't that bother you?"
Kai kept his gaze forward, shoulders relaxed.
"Not even a little. I couldn't care less." His voice carried its usual disinterest.
Kiana raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.
"You really don't care what people think, do you?"
"Actually, I do," he replied, shifting his gaze with a faint, mocking smile. "I love it when people think I'm unpleasant… and stay far away from me."
She chuckled, the brief laugh echoing down the nearly empty hall.
"You'll have to try harder, then."
As they walked through the sunlit corridors of Oakwood, Kiana ran a hand through her hair naturally, pausing a moment in thought before speaking again.
"When I first came back from abroad… I wanted to stay off the radar too." Her tone was softer now, almost intimate. "My dad doesn't know I'm Silver."
Kai looked up, surprised.
"So your parents don't know?"
"Actually, just my dad." She hesitated for a second, then stared at the floor. "My mom died saving people when I was little. Ever since then, he hates anything related to heroes."
"...I'm sorry." Kai's reply was simple, but sincere.
"It's okay. It's been a while." She smiled sweetly, though something lingered in her eyes.
The silence that followed was brief but heavy.
"Did your mom have wind powers like you?" Kai asked, trying to understand more.
"Wind powers?" Kiana let out a light laugh. "No, my power doesn't work like that. I can use anything… but it has to meet certain conditions. And only for a while."
"I see…" Kai nodded slightly. "Still, it's different from what your mom did?"
"Totally."
She looked at him again, as if weighing her next words.
"And you? I saw you fly, be fast, strong… and that blue glow. It hurt the monster. Was that your 'power'?"
Kai looked away, his eyes narrowing slightly.
"Yeah… it's a bit complicated to explain. But it's like you said."
She sensed he didn't want to go deeper — and respected it.
She turned to him, slowing her pace, brushing her hair back.
"If you ever need help, or just want someone with you… you know, when you go be Grey, you can count on me." The words slipped out before she realized their weight. Kiana looked away and kept walking, trying to smooth it over with a nervous smile. "I mean… you can count on anyone in the Young Team too. They'd help."
Kai didn't answer right away. He just kept walking beside her in silence, eyes forward, seemingly lost in thought.
"I'll keep that in mind."
The two walked down the hallway in silence, while the distant chatter of other students echoed like a world holding its breath for what was to come.
Radcliffe Laboratories – Wednesday, April 24th, 2013 – 12:20 PM
Elsewhere… beneath a discreet building in Oak Park's business district, one of the region's most advanced laboratories sat cloaked in absolute silence. The metallic walls reflected the soft pulse of artificial white light from the ceiling, casting cold shadows over the cutting-edge equipment lined up on impeccably organized workbenches.
Radcliffe stood beside a stainless-steel table, dressed in his perfectly tailored dark suit. In front of him, a security case had been opened by one of the lab's scientists, revealing three translucent cylinders filled with a pulsating silver liquid — as if the substance held something alive. Each unit rested snugly in the foam interior of the case, marked with a laser-etched hexadecimal code.
The automatic door hissed open, and Russell entered the room, flanked by two security guards and his usual cloud of expensive cologne mixed with arrogance. His eyes immediately locked onto the contents of the box.
"So this is it?" he asked, stepping forward with barely contained greed. "The serum finally worked? I thought everything went to hell when you said the labs collapsed after those... creatures showed up during the -20 dB wave attempt."
Radcliffe kept his hands clasped behind his back, expressionless.
"This serum is the result of years of analysis. We've studied patterns in young individuals with manifestations of what's now being called an Ego. But... none of the previous formulas worked. They were unstable, dangerous, inconclusive."
Russell raised an eyebrow, skeptical. "So what changed? I thought replicating the wave had failed."
"It did," Radcliffe replied flatly. "We couldn't trigger the -20 dB wave in a controlled way. But the anomaly that emerged instead… that energy… it had a similar effect. It not only triggered the creature's appearance — it also activated the prototype serums stored in the Chicago lab, which were exposed to the residual radiation... a radiation we're calling 'Void Resonance'"
One of the scientists, adjusting his glasses, added:
"There was no injection. No human contact. The capsules reacted on their own. They transformed."
Russell leaned in, examining one of the vials with a predatory glint in his eye.
"Incredible… Can we replicate it?"
"Impossible," the scientist replied dryly. "Not without the same energy source. And the anomaly… vanished."
Radcliffe stepped forward, placing his hands on the table with surgical precision.
"What you see here are the only three resulting units. Three vials. Each one containing a fusion of traits cataloged in recorded Egos — strength, acceleration, defense, energetic synchrony. A unique compound. These aren't just functional prototypes. They are the peak of what we were able to create... by accident."
Russell straightened up, and for a moment, looked like a child in front of new toys.
"And who's going to take them?"
"For now, no one," the scientist replied. "We want to decode the structure first to synthesize replicas. But the process will take time."
"How much time?" Russell asked, his voice steady, but a glimmer of impatience bleeding through every syllable.
"We estimate one to two years. And that's if everything goes smoothly."
A brief silence fell over the room, broken only by the faint hum of the machines.
Radcliffe then stepped away from the table and approached a nearby holographic terminal. He turned slightly, his expression returning to its usual pragmatism.
"Well, that's enough of that. Now… let's get to business."
The lights dimmed slightly, and the room sank into a different kind of tension.
Oakwood High School – Central Gym – Wednesday, April 24th, 2013 – 1:32 PM
Back at Oakwood… the sound of footsteps echoed across the semi-open gymnasium, where only one of the official rings had been set up. The side bleachers were nearly empty — surprisingly so for what, in other schools, might have been a must-see event. But here at Oakwood, ranked fights only drew attention when they involved names from the top of the food chain. Kai was not one of those names.
A middle-aged school employee stood beside the ring, tablet in hand, looking thoroughly bored as he waited to officiate the match. On the other side, Liam was stretching with a carefree smile, warming up more out of habit than necessity.
On the nearest bench by the court, the few students who'd bothered to show up were gathered. Samuel stood with his arms crossed. Cassie rested one ankle over the other, biting her thumbnail — not out of nerves for the fight, but out of lingering frustration from Liam's provocations in previous weeks.
Dex leaned forward beside Lana, elbows resting on his knees.
"Kai could win…" he muttered, eyes fixed on the ring. "But we can't expect that… Not against someone like Liam. It's a shame."
"Yeah…" Amy agreed. "All we can do now is cheers for him."
Nicole sipped her water absentmindedly. Nick drummed his fingers on his leg.
Behind them, in the raised bleachers, two familiar figures arrived with lazy steps. Chris adjusted the collar of his open shirt, visibly bored, while Bruce strolled with his hands in his pockets and a relaxed posture.
"Finally gonna see the kid get crushed, huh?" Bruce said with a smirk.
Chris let out a yawn, stretching as if he'd just rolled out of a nap.
"'Bout time. Let's go out Saturday, do something fun?"
Bruce shook his head.
"Can't. Got plans this weekend."
Chris groaned, rolling his eyes.
"What about next week?"
Bruce sighed.
"Can't either. The principal said Radcliffe asked for me. I have to come in Sunday morning."
Chris stopped for a second, staring at his friend in disbelief.
"Just say no to that crap. You don't need to do everything they say. You already took the serum, paid your dues, it's been over a year. I haven't shown up for a single follow-up after my shot."
Bruce gave him a tired sideways glance.
"You've got money. And your family still donates to the school. I was disowned, remember? I rely on the scholarship. Can't take risks."
Chris huffed impatiently.
"I've told you a thousand times, I'll pay your tuition. And with the money from the deliveries, you could cover it yourself."
"I appreciate it. Really. But I can't depend on your money forever. I need to save up. Tuition's expensive."
Chris grumbled again.
"Fine, fine… do what you want then."
Bruce just smiled and gave him a light tap on the shoulder — a simple, brotherly gesture. They reached the row where Kiana was seated.
Chris sat behind her, Bruce taking the seat beside him.
"Kiana!" he called out, flashing his trademark smile. "You came to watch too?"
She glanced over her shoulder.
"Hey, Chris. Yeah."
Chris leaned forward, elbows on his knees.
"Looking forward to seeing the guy who disrespected you get smacked around?"
Kiana raised an eyebrow, her tone calm and direct.
"That? It was just a misunderstanding. We're friends now. What about you? Here to root for Liam?"
Chris choked on his smirk, swallowing hard at the word friends.
"Just killing time. Saw you here and figured I'd keep you company. This match isn't even worth it, the kid's physical evaluation is garbage."
"I see," she replied flatly.
Chris clenched his jaw for a brief moment.
"Well… let's see how long your friend lasts. Let's just hope he doesn't get hurt."
Bruce sighed audibly.
"Waste of time."
Kiana kept her eyes on the ring, but her voice rang firm.
"He won't get hurt."
Amy, seated just below with the others, turned around, surprised by the certainty in her tone.
"No way… You think he'll win then?"
Kiana crossed her legs, eyes fixed on the center of the ring.
"No. But I'll bet you he won't get hurt."
Cassie, who'd been quiet until then, let out a nasal sigh and nodded with a faint smile.
"Agreed."
Chris leaned back, the smugness returning to his face.
"Alright then. Let's make it interesting." He crossed his arms and added with a cocky tone, "If he gets hurt, you come with me to a super boring charity event my family's hosting. Could use the company."
Kiana was already prepping a sharp rejection, but Cassie — clearly confident in the outcome — cut in before she could respond.
"And if he doesn't get hurt?"
Chris paused for a moment. Then shrugged, still smug.
"If he walks away without a scratch, I'll pay for whatever you want from the food court after the fight."
Dex and Nick exchanged glances.
"We're in!" they said in unison.
Bruce chuckled, folding his arms behind his head.
"At least something good might come out of this," he said wryly.
A soft chime echoed, drawing everyone's attention toward the center of the gym. The school staff member tapped his tablet, and the internal system's voice rang out.
"Ranked fight authorized. Kai Grayson versus Liam West. Starting in two minutes."
All eyes turned to the ring.
Kiana didn't look away. A faint smile curled at the corners of her lips.
You won't get hurt… because you're something far beyond what they can see.
Everything was ready.
Kai and Liam were already at the center of the ring. The silence hanging in the gym was almost uncomfortable—not out of reverence, but disbelief. No one expected anything other than a technical massacre.
Liam smirked. One of those smug smiles, mixing disdain and anticipation.
"It's time," Liam murmured, flexing his shoulders and cracking his knuckles with dramatic flair.
Kai remained still. Eyes half-closed. Expression neutral, as always.
He took a deep breath… and looked up at the bleachers.
Cassie was there. Standing still. Focused. Her eyes, steady as always. He let out a quiet sigh.
Then, he turned his gaze back to Liam and… slid his feet, angling his body into a slight sideways stance. The posture was familiar—it was the same one Cassie used during training. Arm extended, knees slightly bent, weight shifted to the back foot.
The referee's voice echoed through the gym.
"Begin."
Liam charged in instantly.
With his right fist clenched, he threw a wide hook aiming at Kai's jaw.
Kai simply leaned back, as if the punch was a breeze passing by. He didn't even blink.
What a joke… I didn't even need to dodge that.
Liam didn't stop. Another strike—lower this time, aiming for Kai's abdomen.
Kai rotated just slightly, letting the punch sail past, his movement almost annoyingly elegant.
On the third try, Liam roared. A downward strike, full force, his entire body behind the motion.
Kai shifted sideways, lowering his torso.
And with a clean, precise movement, he launched a counterattack identical to Cassie's — a short punch, hips turning, shoulder firm, power released only at the final second.
Guess this'll make her proud....
And you? that's what you get for being an arrogant idiot.
A sharp crack tore through the gym — like a whip against stone.
Liam gasped as his feet left the floor, his body twisting mid-air before crashing down with a heavy thud.
Then… silence. Not awe. Not respect. Just stunned disbelief.
Liam rolled once across the ring… and didn't get up.
The referee blinked, took a step forward, and began the count.
Nothing.
"Winner: Kai Grayson."
No applause.
Because no one understood.
A rookie. Unranked. No track record. Had just taken down one of the top thirty with a single strike—clean, technical, without hesitation.
Chris stood from the bleachers, stunned.
"What the hell?!"
Bruce only looked down, arms crossed, unfazed.
The boxing club crew jumped to their feet.
"LET'S GOOOO!" Dex shouted, throwing his arms up.
"He… won?" Nick's eyes widened. "Does this mean we're getting free food?"
"With one punch?" Nicole added, already heading down the stairs.
Amy said nothing, still staring at Cassie.
Cassie remained seated, her eyes fixed on the ring. It took her a few seconds to rise. When she did, she walked toward him with the others.
At the center of the ring, Kai was still standing. Shoulders slightly lowered. Gaze distant.
Cassie was the first to reach him. She said nothing—just pulled him into a tight hug, as if saying thank you for not holding back… or maybe idiot, now everyone's going to notice you.
Kai returned the hug with a small, genuine smile.
"Mind letting go? I never said I'd lose," Kai said, teasing.
"You didn't," Cassie replied. "But I still want to punch you for it."
The rest of the group surrounded the ring shortly after, congratulating, laughing, celebrating. Even with all the shock, there was something natural about that moment. Something that said: he belongs here.
Further back, Kiana watched with a soft smile. Arms crossed. She didn't come closer. She just stood there, watching from afar.
High up in the bleachers, Chris stared with clenched jaw.
"That useless Liam… can't even handle the simplest things."
Bruce let out a long sigh, scratching his head.
"Forget that guy. You're wasting energy on nonsense. We've got other things to do—need to meet up with Scott."
Chris didn't answer. His eyes stayed locked on the ring.
"Tsk… what a mess."
He stomped down the bleachers, fuming. Bruce followed behind, tossing bored glances at his phone.
Oakwood Cafeteria – 2:04 PM
Trays came and went while the smell of fries and burgers filled the air, mixing with excited chatter. The place wasn't crowded, but those present were buzzing with the news: some rookie named Kai had just taken Liam's spot as the thirty-fourth ranked student.
At the center of the cafeteria, an entire table was taken over by the club crew.
Kai sat among them, surrounded.
Cassie had taken the seat next to him, arms crossed, trying to feign indifference—but the half-smile tugging at her lips gave her away. Dex, Nick, Lana, Nicole, and the others celebrated the win like they'd just won a championship.
Then Chris appeared.
He said nothing at first. Just stood by the table. In one hand, a stack of bills held together by a rubber band.
With a loud smack, he dropped it in the center of the table. The notes spread out, drawing everyone's attention.
"Enjoy it," Chris said, with a venomous half-smile.
Cassie raised an eyebrow but didn't move. Amy picked up one of the notes, whistled, and laughed aloud.
"He's mad," Nick whispered, barely containing his laugh.
Chris didn't reply. His eyes scanned the group until they stopped on Kiana, who stood farther away, leaning against a column with her tray still untouched.
He walked over, adjusting his collar like rehearsing a proposal.
"Saturday. Charity event. Imperial Hotel. Care to join me anyway?"
Kiana looked up slowly, calmly. Her tone was firm and polite.
"No, Chris. Thanks."
Chris held his smile one second longer than he should have.
"Come on, Kiana. You're better than this 'club spirit' nonsense."
she didn't respond.
"You'll regret hanging around that kind of crowd," he added.
She shrugged, already bored of the conversation.
He didn't press.
He turned and walked off with Bruce following.
They laughed. Ate. Celebrated.
Kai was getting more attention than he wanted, and even though he was just waiting for the first excuse to slip away, for the first time since arriving at Oakwood, he didn't feel like he was just passing through… or that it was a mistake being there.
He felt… present.
Like that punch had knocked more than Liam off balance — it had grounded him.
The buzz from the fight didn't fade as fast as it had appeared, but it slowly settled with each passing day. Life at Oakwood moved on. Training. Classes. Routine. And two quiet strikes against local gangs that Kai carried out as Grey. Conversations with Cassie, with Kiana, with Samuel and the others at the club, which grew tighter each day.
And just like that, another week passed...
Annex Laboratory, Sector R — Sunday, May 5th, 2013 — 6:44 AM
The steel gates creaked open with a heavy groan.
Seven teenagers entered the facility under the watchful gaze of the guards lined up at the edges. The metallic floor reflected the cold light of the industrial lamps, and the air carried the scent of oil, plasma, and chemicals — the subtle perfume of military experiments.
From the upper floor, isolated behind thick glass, two men watched in silence.
Russell, in a light-colored suit, hands in his pockets, dark sunglasses shielding his eyes — relaxed yet attentive.
Radcliffe, dressed in an impeccable black suit, stood with perfect posture. He had dropped by casually to observe the test — at Russell's persistent request, who was always eager to see things up close.
They both analyzed.
Down below, field scientist Dr. Malcolm Patel walked briskly between the teens. Tall, with flawless posture, his white coat looked like it had been ironed straight onto him. He carried a metal briefcase, which clicked open — revealing a series of sleek, silver wristbands with circular screens embedded in the center.
"These monitors will record pressure, temperature, bioenergetic flow, and neural fluctuation during testing," Patel said, his tone clinical and accustomed to immediate obedience. "Wear them on your left wrist. Make sure they're secure."
The wristbands latched on automatically, molding themselves to each arm.
Patel continued:
"You've been summoned today for a blood draw and a round of scans on Ego manifestation. The goal is to map out the side effects of the latest batches of serum."
The teens exchanged glances.
On the upper floor...
Russell leaned lightly against the wall, eyes focused on the screen.
Bruce Lawrence, current number one at Oakwood, stood with arms crossed. He had responded better than anyone else to the serum in terms of bodily enhancement — and now served as a benchmark for the others. His Ego made him even more dangerous: he could steal 10% of the strength from anyone nearby and copy abilities, including other Egos, as long as he understood how they worked. His limit was ten simultaneous targets. He was at the top for a reason — he could use his Ego without anyone noticing.
Next to him, Scarlet Winssel, a girl with blonde hair and sapphire eyes, stood motionless. Her Ego was strong and allowed her to freeze anything she touched, creating blades, spikes, or icy surfaces. However, her body wasn't as tough or durable as the others — a visible disadvantage. Her physical amplification was estimated at around 15 to 20% of Bruce's.
Edward Morten, dark-skinned, tall, sharp-eyed. Eighth place in the school. His Ego transformed one of his arms into a living armored limb with absurd strength and resilience concentrated into that one member. His bodily amplification reached about 90% of Bruce's. But when that arm transformed, his power could exceed the top student's fivefold.
Robert Wanri, dark skin, shaved sides, showed a physique similar to David's, but his Ego made him deadlier: he could grow spikes under his skin and fire them with brutal force — plus a regeneration factor. Ranked fourth. His bodily amplification hovered around 80% of Bruce's.
Brandon Thorton was also present — still unstable. His red-rimmed eyes betrayed sleepless nights. His bioenergetic pattern resembled Bruce's, but his Ego had yet to fully manifest. A walking mystery. His bodily amplification, initially around 60%, was now nearing 70% — with potential for much more.
Tom Harsel, pale skin, dark brown hair. His Ego was grotesque and violent: it turned him into a gorilla-like creature with monstrous brute strength. Sixth in the rankings. Transformed, his strength could increase up to eight times. Even in human form, he held 90% of Bruce's amplification.
Lastly, Charlize Thinald, brown hair and eyes, fair skin, a brow piercing and several earrings. The most recent recipient of the serum. Her physical boost sat at about 75% of Bruce's — with room to grow. But her Ego came with a price: she could distort the perception and balance of opponents, but while doing so, her own body became completely paralyzed.
"You said there wouldn't be any fighting… what a shame." Russell smiled faintly. "Would've been fun to see these Egos in action. You mentioned they can't use them in school fights."
Radcliffe replied without taking his eyes off the screen.
"Egos must remain hidden. We don't want to draw too much attention to the school. Besides, the data we need comes from the exams. There's no need for combat."
"But just imagine... the emotional trigger, the adrenaline rush, the combat stress activating new Ego branches. Scientifically speaking, it would be... delightful."
Radcliffe raised an eyebrow. His tone was neutral.
"That's not part of the plan. But it does sound interesting."
Russell let out a theatrical sigh.
"Then how about this. A reward for the last one standing?"
Radcliffe gave a small nod, permitting the suggestion, a discreet smile creeping onto his lips.
Russell turned and walked toward the door leading to the lower floor.
Radcliffe followed, hands in his pockets.
Moments later, both men emerged from the side of the lab, instantly drawing the attention of all seven teens.
Bruce frowned at the sight of Russell. He knew the man — Scott and Chris's new business partner — was one of the school's investors. But even so... something about his presence here felt off.
Russell smiled as he scanned the group, exchanging a subtle glance with Bruce.
"Good morning."
They all stared at him — some with respect, others with suspicion.
"Imagine this," Russell said, strolling across the metal floor. "A friendly competition. Just among yourselves. A way to truly understand who has the strongest Ego."
Silence.
"And to spice things up... the winner gets ten thousand dollars."
Charlize's eyes widened. Tom scratched his head. Edward smiled for the first time.
Russell crossed his arms and looked to Radcliffe.
The latter stepped forward, his gaze sweeping across the group.
"No lethal strikes," he said loudly. "If someone surrenders, they're out. Anyone who keeps attacking after that will be disqualified. Understood?"
They all nodded.
The tension was thick.
Dr. Patel simply kept logging everything into his tablet, mumbling to himself as the vital signs spiked on the graph.
"I'm calling the medical team, just in case."
And then, in the center of the lab, the seven teens began spreading out, forming a rough circle.
The challenge had been set.
Seven names. Seven variables. And a room ready to explode.
And then… it began.
The metallic floor groaned beneath the feet of the seven young contenders. Eyes locked. Breaths shortened. Muscles tensed.
But no one moved.
Bruce stood still. Arms crossed. His gaze steady, serene, almost bored.
No one dared to attack him.
The aura he emitted wasn't just physical — it was psychological. He was number one. The benchmark. The standard. And they all knew it.
For a moment, he simply walked to the center of the improvised arena in a straight line, like a king striding across his throne. He stopped. Tilted his head, observing the first motions around him as if he were watching a stage play.
It wasn't his time yet.
On the far end, Brandon clenched his teeth.
He wasn't well.
His breathing was erratic. His body still seemed unstable, as if the amplification was adjusting in real time. But even so, he charged forward.
Or tried to.
Tom Harsel intercepted his movement with brute force. A shove to the chest — simple, direct — sent Brandon crashing against the wall with a dull thud.
He fell to his knees, sliding to the floor.
But he didn't give up.
"I… I'm still… standing…" he muttered through clenched teeth, his reddened eyes struggling to focus.
Tom, still in human form, snorted and dismissed him. No need to transform just yet.
On the opposite side of the circle, the real clash erupted.
Edward Morten lunged at Robert Wanri with the precision of a predator.
But Robert was faster. From his right arm, spikes grew like short, sharp lances, firing off with a dry burst — shunk—shunk—shunk!
Edward growled as his right arm distorted in real time. The muscle swelled, skin darkened, morphing into a grotesque organic armor that wrapped from shoulder to fingertips.
The spikes ricocheted off with force.
"That's lethal, asshole!" Edward barked, turning his face toward the glass where Russell and Radcliffe were watching.
Neither reacted.
Radcliffe didn't even glance away from the monitor.
Russell smirked.
Edward gritted his teeth.
"Fine…" he growled, turning back, and charged like a raging bull.
The floor rumbled beneath his steps. Robert tried to fire more spikes, but Edward sidestepped, spun, and — BAM — slammed his mutant arm into Robert's side, sending him flying like a sack of bones.
Robert landed, skidding on his back, already regenerating as he rose.
"So that's how it is?" he hissed.
And they dove back into combat like starved animals.
On the other side of the ring, the two girls were already exchanging blows.
Charlize darted forward with remarkable speed, her brown hair tied behind her head swaying with each move. She knew she couldn't use her Ego — not yet. Being paralyzed in a pit of predators wasn't an option.
Scarlet met her gaze with icy eyes, golden hair cascading over her shoulders.
Each time Charlize approached, Scarlet summoned ice to her hands, forming short blades or instant shields. The sound of growing and shattering ice filled the lab — krkshh—shack—krkshh!
Charlize twisted, feinted, leapt. But every strike was blocked, every approach frozen, every attempt denied.
Scarlet didn't smile. Didn't speak a word.
She simply controlled.
And with every second, frost began spreading across the metallic floor.
Her own battlefield.
Charlize panted heavily. She needed an opening.
But she was surrounded by spikes, ice, rage, and monsters in teenage bodies.
And Bruce…
Still had his arms crossed.
Bruce wasn't just waiting — he was daring them to make the first move. Testing who'd be reckless enough to challenge him.
Tom turned his eyes toward Bruce, who remained in the center of the arena, as if waiting for something.
"No hard feelings, boss… yeah?" Tom said with a crooked grin.
Bruce raised an eyebrow and then… nodded.
The sound that followed wasn't human.
Tom's bones reconfigured with grotesque cracks — crack—shhhk—krunk!
Veins bulged. His skin split in strategic spots, revealing muscles expanding like braided steel cables. His arms grew first, then his chest, his legs. His face elongated, teeth turning to fangs. In seconds, he had become a creature nearly three meters tall — gray-skinned, gorilla-like muscles, and eyes blazing with savage fury.
His combat form had emerged.
Bruce didn't back away. But his feet sank slightly into the metallic floor, as if a pressure field radiated from him.
His Ego, silently activated.
Strength drain: 10% from everyone around him. Including the massive gorilla.
And even so… Tom charged.
BOOM!
The floor shook with the impact of the first punch.
Bruce blocked the massive fist with a solid forearm, sliding half a step back. The second punch came from above, forcing Bruce to raise his arms in defense. The third was a barrage to the ribs — fast, for the creature's size, like war drums pounding metal.
Bruce was retreating — but never out of control.
He observed. Calculated. Absorbed the hits. His muscles vibrated with each collision, and even with everyone else's strength flowing into him, that mutant gorilla was still a real challenge.
That's when Edward Morten saw his chance.
His sharp gaze locked onto the creature's back. His arm still grotesquely transformed, pulsing with accumulated energy.
"Now."
He sprinted.
Heavy footsteps tore across the battlefield, and in seconds, Edward launched himself at Tom with his mutated right arm — a mass of pulsing muscle and bone.
BOOM!
The direct blow to the gorilla's left shoulder spun him with the impact, staggering him two meters to the side.
For a moment, it wasn't a duel anymore.
Now it was three.
Bruce, Tom, and Edward.
Blows echoed in every direction — Bruce dodging with precision, blocking with minimal effort. Tom attacking like a beast, seeking brute contact. Edward exploiting every opening to inflict damage where he could.
It was like watching three elemental forces collide — technique, brutality, and calculation.
Across the lab, Robert stood back up.
His eyes burned with rage.
He looked at Brandon, still kneeling, gasping.
"Time to stop playing," Robert muttered and began to move.
But before he could get close… Brandon rose.
His gaze had changed.
No more hesitation.
Something had shifted.
Patel's monitors silently lit up with alerts.
Abnormal Ego fluctuation detected.
Brandon's aura vibrated. Invisible to most, but felt in every muscle of Robert's body.
"You… something's different," Robert said, hesitating.
Brandon didn't reply.
He just looked — and something happened.
Robert's body faltered.
As if, suddenly, fifty percent of his strength had evaporated.
"W-what the hell…?" he whispered.
Brandon clenched his fist.
It trembled… and then exploded into motion.
BAM!
The punch landed square on Robert's jaw, launching him backward.
Brandon advanced.
Another punch. And another. And another.
Robert tried to defend himself, but it was like fighting a delayed reflection. Brandon was stronger now. Much stronger.
And he knew it.
A crooked, almost unhinged smile appeared on his face.
For the first time… he was the predator.
Robert collapsed.
Brandon kept going.
Heavy punches. Rhythmic. Vengeful.
Each strike carried months of frustration, instability, loss of control.
And now… pleasure.
Watching from afar, Dr. Patel monitored Brandon's signals.
"Fascinating," he muttered.
On the other side of the room, Charlize and Scarlet continued their breathless dance of ice and tension.
Charlize spun, attacked, retreated. Snowflakes piled on the ground, making each step a treacherous gamble. One misstep could be the last.
Scarlet remained calm. Her sapphire eyes impassive as she forged ice blades with every failed attempt from her opponent.
They didn't speak.
There was no time for words.
Their war was silent, contained, and intense.
And they both knew... the moment of decision had yet to come.
The room felt on the verge of collapse. Muffled shouts, grunts, flesh hitting flesh, bones crashing against metal, ice clashing with inner fire.
Brandon, breathless, finally stopped pounding Robert's body.
His knuckles were torn open. Blood dripped freely, but his eyes… burned with euphoria.
Then he turned.
Edward stared at him, his right arm still transformed, chest heaving from the earlier fight. His gaze narrowed.
"Wanna play, Thorton?" he muttered.
Brandon didn't answer.
He charged.
The clash was direct. Edward threw a straight punch with his armored arm, but Brandon ducked just in time, weaving under the blow and landing a hook to the stomach that forced Edward back a full step.
The power was real.
Standing at the center, Bruce watched.
His eyes followed Brandon's sudden brutality against Edward. The frown on his brow revealed more than just interest.
He wasn't this strong before… how?
But there was no time to dwell on it.
Charlize, still keeping distance against Scarlet, noticed the tension between the two and tried to move toward Brandon. A gap, maybe?
But Scarlet moved first.
Without warning, she sprinted to Bruce and pressed her left hand against his right leg.
CRACK!
Ice.
Thick layers enveloped Bruce's ankle, anchoring him to the ground in seconds.
He looked down with boredom.
"...Seriously?"
Before Scarlet could retreat, Bruce's hand shot to her neck.
A grip.
A second later, she was airborne.
THUNK!
Scarlet was hurled over six meters, hitting the wall with a dull thud and sliding to the floor. Unconscious.
"Out," Bruce muttered.
But before he could free himself from the ice, Tom — still in his gorilla-like mutant form — charged.
BOOM!
His colossal fist came down like a meteor, aiming for Bruce's chest.
At the last second, Bruce twisted his leg, cracking the ice with a sound like thunder. He leapt back and activated his Ego, transforming his left arm using Edward's power — a grotesque armor of dense fibers and calcified plates.
CRASH!
The impact of Tom's blow was brutal, sparks flying off the floor.
But Bruce held firm.
He grabbed the gorilla's fist with his transformed arm, and with his free hand — now empowered with Scarlet's ability — touched the creature's shoulder.
Shhhhkkk… CRACK!
Ice instantly spread across Tom's shoulder. Bruce didn't stop.
He directed the formation into a solid spike… and rammed it into Tom's leg.
Tom howled.
The pain stunned him for a moment.
Enough time.
Bruce pulled back his arm — and with all his force, delivered a side blow to Tom's face that cracked the air around them.
BOOOOOM!
The creature's head spun.
His eyes went dim.
The monstrous body collapsed to the ground with a thud that shook the lab.
The transformation unraveled almost immediately. Tom reverted to his human form, unconscious, his chest rising and falling with difficulty.
Bruce rolled his shoulder, cracking his joints. A smug grin formed.
"Easy."
He turned his eyes to Brandon, Edward, and Charlize, still locked in combat further ahead… but something drew his attention away.
Footsteps.
Heading his way.
Robert.
Robert's body — once motionless, bruised and beaten — now stood upright, arms ready, his chest rising confidently… and spikes jutting from his skin.
Bruce raised an eyebrow.
Without hesitation, Robert launched a barrage of sharp spikes at Bruce.
CLANG! CLANG! CHINK!
Bruce's transformed arm blocked most. Three pierced his chest, embedding shallowly — but his resistance did its part. It hurt him but it wasn't a fatal blow.
He didn't flinch.
Robert spun to retreat, but Bruce had already moved.
One hand on his shoulder. The other gripping his spiked arm.
Trapped.
Robert's eyes widened.
"S-sorry, boss! Sorry! I give up… I give up, I give up!"
The fear was real.
Bruce stared for a second… and let go.
"Tch... Lucky Chris likes you."
Robert collapsed to his knees, gasping, sweat pouring from his skin.
At that point, only four remained standing:
Bruce.
Brandon.
Edward.
Charlize.
And the tension had peaked.
Silence hovered for a moment.
Bruce's chest rose and fell naturally, as if the previous combat had been mere warm-up. He raised his arm, still embedded with spikes, and then…
Shhhrrrk.
He pulled them out one by one without flinching.
Within seconds, his wounds closed. Microcuts vanished. Blood dried and disappeared. Even the faintest fatigue — if it had existed — was gone.
Robert's regeneration, now Bruce's, was monstrous.
Without hesitation, Bruce bent his knees and launched like a missile.
Edward didn't even have time to react. A shadow swallowed him. Bruce grabbed his torso, and they crashed into the floor in a flurry of punches, blocks, and takedowns. But it was hopeless.
In under ten seconds, Edward was unconscious.
Down, gasping. Out of the fight.
Across the lab, Brandon still traded blows with Charlize. Even after his fight with Edward, he still burned with the 50% of energy he'd stolen from Robert. Each punch shattered the air.
Charlize retreated, dodging, until she was cornered.
She clenched her fists.
I have no choice.
She activated her Ego.
Brandon's eyes widened.
"Ugh—!"
His body faltered, as if pulled into a nightmare. His senses warped, sounds muffled, vision spiraling. He couldn't tell up from down.
Everything… trembled.
Charlize remained still, veins bulging from her neck. Using her Ego required absolute focus — and she was at her limit.
"Get this guy out of here," she said through clenched teeth.
Bruce approached with calm steps. He observed the scene for a few seconds, eyes fixed on her.
Not bad, she's got guts… and she's hot.
Then he smirked.
"What fun would that be?"
Charlize looked up, surprised.
Bruce gently pushed her shoulder — a light touch, but enough to break her concentration and end her ability.
She stumbled, sweat dripping from her brow. As she lifted her gaze, she found Bruce staring down at her.
"I surrender," she said.
"I've got a proposal for you," Bruce murmured. "Later... come find me. Talk to me and Chris at school."
She hesitated for a second. Her heart still pounding.
Then stood and left without a word.
Bruce just watched her go.
Brandon slowly regained full consciousness. His senses returned. He took in the weight of the situation and saw Bruce waiting.
"You still wanna go?"
Brandon stood, took a deep breath—
And activated his Ego again.
This time, his eyes glowed with the energy stolen directly from Bruce.
50%... of real strength.
The impact was instant. His muscles swelled slightly, his fists trembled with raw power.
But something was wrong.
I didn't copy anything but the raw physical strength… none of the extra abilities.
Bruce charged.
The clash was brutal.
But one-sided.
Even with half of Bruce's power, Brandon lagged behind. His attacks were predictable, his speed inferior. And Bruce — like a growing shadow — dominated every move, every space, every choice.
The final punch slammed him to the floor.
But Brandon wasn't unconscious.
He looked unbreakable. But the gap… was still abyssal.
He rolled to the side, coughed… and raised a hand.
"I surrender."
Silence filled the lab.
Bruce walked over and stopped beside him.
"Why not come back to our delivery ring?" he asked casually. "You wanted in before. Now that you're strong… you could."
Brandon looked up, dirt and sweat staining his face, pride wounded.
"I don't need that shit anymore," he said firmly. "I've got money. I'm rich."
He rose with effort but didn't bow his head.
"I used to want respect. Now I can earn it on my own."
Bruce stared at him.
And smiled.
In Brandon's eyes, behind the pain, something had changed. A memory.
A rooftop.
A boy with dark hair and an unshakable gaze.
That cold stare… like a blade between worlds.
I still need more...
...before I go after him.
My revenge has to be perfect.
That day, that look was even colder than Bruce's now.
I'll be ready — and I'll crush him completely.
The fight was over.
But for some, the war was just beginning.
The emergency lights had dimmed, but tension still hung like suspended fog. The seven youths lay scattered across the padded lab floor, some seated with cold packs on their shoulders, others lying down receiving first aid.
The medical team, dressed in black uniforms and white masks, worked in silent efficiency. No comments. No judgments. Just needles, scanners, and sutures.
Robert coughed faintly on a stretcher, his spikes being removed one by one. Scarlet remained unconscious, a cervical collar holding her in place. Edward slowly came to, confused. Tom still panted beneath a thermal blanket, his gorilla form finally undone.
In the center of the room, Brandon sat quietly.
And at the back, watching everything from behind a polarized glass panel, were the men behind it all.
"This is incredible!" Russell exclaimed, eyes wide at the data on the monitors. "If that new serum you created works, we could make an army of super soldiers! Amazing!"
Radcliffe remained silent for a moment. His cold gaze swept across the field. The room. The machines. The exhausted, yet promising bodies. Then, with a faint smile, he spoke.
"This... isn't even the tip of the iceberg."
Russell raised his brows, still excited.
"Why not use these kids as agents?"
Radcliffe sighed, folding his arms behind his back.
"They're experiments. Observation subjects. They have families, connections, people who care. Anything beyond what we're doing could draw unwanted attention."
Russell looked at him more seriously.
"So… you've got no plans for them?"
Radcliffe turned slightly, staring at one of the cameras aimed at Bruce, who sat in a corner not even looking tired.
"I do," he said calmly. "But not yet. Let them grow older. I already have the perfect boy working for me right now. No family to get in the way. And explosive potential."
Russell turned his eyes, trying to guess who he meant. But he just sighed and stepped away.
"Well... I'll deliver the prize to the great champion."
He crossed the catwalk leading to the central lab and descended a short flight of stairs. Everyone still conscious watched in silence.
Russell stopped in front of Bruce. The boy was still wiping blood from his hands. His clothes torn, but his gaze steady.
"Congratulations," Russell said, handing over a brown envelope. "Ten thousand dollars. Clean money."
Bruce took it without hesitation. They stared at each other for a moment.
"Watching you fight was amazing," Russell continued in a lower tone, "makes me think I made the right choice."
Bruce replied with a small smirk.
"I'll use the money well."
Russell crossed his arms.
"Are Scott and Chris that good too?"
Bruce scratched his ear, thoughtful.
"They are," he said. "Honestly? If the three of us fought… I don't know who would win."
He raised his gaze with a challenging glint.
"Maybe me… if I had other strong people nearby. If not..."
He shrugged.
"Hard to say."
Russell chuckled. Low. Almost as if he didn't want to admit he was getting chills.
Behind them, the monitors kept blinking silently. Data recorded. Variables measured.
The future… set in motion.
And in that room filled with sweat, pain, and promises, something lit up in someone's eager eyes.
A greed and thirst for power the world wasn't ready to face.
Next Day – Monday, May 6th, 2013 – Oakwood Academy – 09:22 AM
The hallway was almost empty, except for a few students rushing back from break. Kai leaned against one of the polished concrete columns near the cafeteria, staring ahead as if the world around him was just a blur.
Dimitry appeared beside him, eyes sharp and expression composed.
"Got the data just now," he murmured, barely moving his lips. "Two weeks of nothing. But now… suddenly, our class alone got over fifteen deliveries. And they're starting this week."
Kai turned his gaze away. The news was disturbing—but revealing.Someone had started pulling the strings again.
He remained silent for a moment, simply observing the ebb and flow of Oakwood students.
"This has never happened before," Dimitry added. "Never this many orders... all for the same group. What do we do? Should I make the deliveries?"
Kai closed his eyes briefly, thinking.They're expanding... If that's the case, we need to do the same.
"It's time to expand," he finally said.
Dimitry frowned."Expand?"
"I need eyes. Everywhere. Just like you. But in other schools."
"And how are you going to do that?" Dimitry asked.
Kai thought for a moment. After a few seconds, he looked at Dimitry.
"Get me an extra phone number I can use. You've got three days. And about the deliveries—don't make any. Tell them Grey threatened you and you're out."
Dimitry nodded slowly, swallowing hard.
"Understood."
Back in the classroom, Kai noticed people whispering when he walked by. Ever since he ranked 34th, staying under the radar had become increasingly difficult at school.
But his routine—and his group of friends—remained steady...
Three Days Later – Thursday, May 9th, 2013 – 8:12 PM – Lonsdale High
Light rain fell over the industrial rooftops of the northern district. Lonsdale High was a private school surrounded by empty streets—fancy-looking walls, but the building itself wasn't all that refined. It was known as the "starter private school": posh enough not to be mistaken for public education, but far from the prestige of elite institutions. Recently, it had become a critical hub for the under-the-table deliveries.
After boxing club training, Kai headed to Lonsdale, where Dimitry had hinted something might be happening.
His communicator—the one Cosmic had given him—blinked a few times.It signaled a Young Team mission. But he chose not to get involved.
He stayed there, in the shadows near Lonsdale High.
Watching everything until night fell.
That night… fear took a different form.
Outside, between the back of the gym and the court wall, a group of three teens finished discussing delivery instructions. But it was hard to hear thanks to the noise of the rain.
Kai remained still, letting out a sigh.
Damn rain.The whole week, not a single drop. And now it decides to pour.Should I have gone with the Young Team?
Eventually, the group below split up.Kai waited for the perfect moment to strike...
Then the lamppost lights flickered once as a divine sign.
Twice.And then… darkness.
Guess the rain wasn't all bad.This is my cue…
"What the h—"
Before he could finish the sentence, the oldest in the group—a strong guy with neck tattoos and a torn hoodie—was slammed against the wall so hard he let out a strangled gasp.
The others backed away, but all they saw were glowing blue eyes in the dark.Eyes that didn't blink.Eyes that knew no fear.
"I heard part of your conversation. You're Seth, right?" a voice rasped—low and sharp, like a whisper made of blades.
The boy tried to deny it, but the name was etched into the fear now swallowing him.
"You're going to tell me everything. Routes. Handlers. Dates."
"W-what? Who are you—"
The pressure increased. Seth gasped for air. The hands gripping him weren't hurting him—yet—but it felt like he was facing something that shouldn't exist.
"You know who I am. And now, you report to me. No one else needs to know."
Kai placed a slip of paper in the boy's trembling hand.
"Use this number. If I don't get something useful… I'll come back."
But he needed more, that alone wouldn't be enough to make him a loyal little dog like Dimitry.
He needed to know who was in charge, and who he should be afraid of.
A bolt of lightning split the sky.
Seth felt something shift. His feet left the ground.
He screamed.
And when the eyes adjusted again, after the lightning he felt the ground under him again...
He was standing at the edge of a nearby five-story building. He stumbled backward, terrified.
Grey was already gone.
When he finally looked down, his hands wouldn't stop shaking. Not from the cold. But from the certainty that he had been marked.
And the trembling wouldn't stop...
A Few Days Later – Tuesday, May 14th, 2013 – 08:52 PM – Ravenshade High
The Ravenshade High parking lot was known for housing student motorcycles and local gang meetups. That Tuesday, two students met beside the covered sports court.
"Heard Lonsdale's in chaos," one said, lighting a cigarette.
"Yeah. They say a demon showed up there."
"Rumor. There's always some rumor... Grey, right?"
As before, the day was chosen carefully: Tuesday—boxing club day, the perfect alibi for getting home late.
A gust of wind blew harder.
The cigarette was ripped away by a sudden draft.
Then a shadow dropped behind them.
"The rumor's true," a voice murmured.
They both turned at once—only one managed to run. The other, Jayden, was slammed to the ground with brutal force.
Grey crouched beside him, dropping a slip of paper with a phone number onto the boy's chest.
"You're going to keep me informed. Or you'll find out what happens to those who don't follow orders."
In a final act of defiance, Jayden pulled a knife from his pocket and tried to stab Grey.
The blade touched his skin.
And did nothing.
That had two immediate effects: first, it terrified Jayden…Second, it annoyed Kai. But what frightened him more was how natural that anger felt.
The void pulsed inside. Calling. Growing.
The energy concentrated in his eyes—unintentionally.
His eyes glowed. Kai twisted Jayden's wrist, still gripping the knife tightly.
The boy screamed.
He trembled. His breath came in short gasps. He avoided looking directly into those eyes. Those damned eyes.
"I'm sorry... I-I will. I swear."
A second later, he was alone.Lying on the asphalt.
But the feeling of being watched… remained.
And he really was.
Above the clouds, Kai floated with his Six Eyes glowing intensely.
He had withdrawn quickly and vanished, just like before.
But this time, it wasn't to make a statement or inspire fear...This time, it was out of caution.
The void was calling. Pulsing inside him... like in that nightmare from weeks ago.
And what scared him the most…was realizing that, deep down, a part of him wanted to answer that call.
Same day – 9:18 PM – Grayson House
Kai walked in through the front door, already back in his school uniform.
He was greeted instantly with a complaint.
"Dude, I'm starving!" Mark groaned from the couch. "You said you'd eat with us—Mom made us wait! You're getting addicted to that club."
"He's here!" he shouted next. "Mom, Kai's back!"
Debbie and Nolan came down the stairs together, laughing at something only the two of them knew. The warm upstairs light spilled across the steps, adding a cozy glow to the house.
Being there... with them...Made the void feel distant.
Kai looked at his brother and gave a faint smirk.
"My bad."
"Yeah, yeah… you'll make it up later. Let's eat already—I'm starving."
The table was already set. The scent of warm dinner filled the air.
Kai sat between Mark and Nolan in silence. The two of them carried the conversation, but Kai seemed distant—his eyes fixed on the steam rising from the food.
The nightmare...The void pulsing.The blood on Nolan's hands.Cosmic's unmoving stare on the ground...
That scene returned, vivid and haunting.
"Kai," Nolan called, his tone light, pointing to the center of the table. "Pass the cheese, son."
Kai blinked, snapping out of his trance. He picked up the small glass container and handed it to his father, who nodded in thanks.
"Thanks. Now that's more like it!" Nolan said, helping himself. "Your mom's sauce is almost too good to be real."
Mark laughed. "She looked like she was about to mess it up again... but she nailed it this time."
"Hey!" Debbie protested from across the table—but laughed too.
Kai smiled, lowering his gaze to the plate.
It was just a nightmare... just a nightmare...
He looks different, not the same as Rockcliff.
No matter the mission, why would he kill Cosmic? Or any other hero?
He wouldn't do that.
And for that single, fragile belief—that maybe he wouldn't—the world stopped feeling heavy.
Interlude — Part 1: Cardiac Attack
Wednesday, May 15th, 2013 – 6:58 AM – Oakwood Academy
The sky was clear that morning, but the breeze blowing through Oakwood's hallways carried an oddly sharp chill. Kai arrived early, as usual. He walked straight through the front gate, weaving past students still yawning or adjusting their uniform ties. He didn't look tired—but he didn't look awake either.
When he reached the Block B hallway, he leaned for a moment against the concrete railing and pulled his phone from his pocket.
First, the personal one. Useless notifications, ads, and an emoji from Mark saying, "Talked to July, Becky, and Derick. We're planning to go to the mall next Friday, you're coming, right?"
Kai let out a soft sigh, then switched to the other phone—the one Dimitry had arranged. This one didn't receive casual messages. It was silent. But far more important.
Nothing today.
He put both phones away and stepped into the classroom.
The room was noisier than usual. Almost every seat was already taken. The sound of unzipping backpacks, water bottles clicking shut, and poorly concealed whispers filled the air.
Kai was already heading to his seat when two girls—from another class—walked into the room.
"Kai?"
He turned, surprised. He didn't know either of them.
They approached without hesitation.
"Someone asked me to give this to you," one of them said, handing him a small folded piece of paper.
Cassie raised an eyebrow, wearing that same mischievous, curious smile as always.
Samuel, already slouched over his desk, only looked up out of reflex. And Kiana… kept her eyes fixed on her notebook, as if deeply focused. But the way her pen froze in her hand was far too suspicious to go unnoticed.
Before he could ask anything, the two girls quickly walked away, like they were on a secret mission.
Kai opened the note. His eyes scanned the elegant, feminine handwriting.
"Kai, I asked them to deliver this because I wanted to tell you something. Meet me behind the gym, Block C. Signed: NB."
Cassie was already on her feet.
"NB? Kai, breaking hearts, huh?" she said loud enough for the whole room to hear. "Someone wants to see you behind the gym... hmmm."
Samuel let out a lazy laugh.
"Oh, Kai would never go. Poor girl, probably waiting for nothing."
Kai walked to his seat, silent.
It's probably something irrelevant. Just another random thing.
But maybe… something related to the deliveries.
Then he answered Samuel, not even looking up.
"I'm going."
The words came out slow, sleepy, paired with a yawn, like he had just said something as trivial as "I'm getting some water."
But that… was enough.
Kiana—who had kept her aloof act until then—froze for a second. Her heart leapt so unexpectedly she had to grip her desk to hide the jolt. Her hand slid across the paper she was writing on, accidentally scribbling the margin.
What? He's going…?
Kai didn't look at anyone. He kept his usual expression.
He knew that with everything going on… If it was even remotely tied to the deliveries, it was better not to ignore it.
Cassie, still standing, walked over to his seat, leaning over with her arms crossed on the backrest of his chair, her chin resting on her elbows.
"Check your phone, Kai. Maybe this NB posted something… maybe there's a clue on social media."
Kai turned his face slightly toward her, without moving his body, and gave her a look of pure boredom.
"I don't have any. Stop making a fuss."
Cassie blinked slowly, as if she hadn't understood, then scrunched her nose like she had just heard a blasphemy.
"What do you mean you don't have social media?"
"I don't see the point."
"You're joking, right?" She stepped back, only to walk around and stop beside him like a determined statue. "Gimme that."
Kai was distracted, and Cassie moved fast. She snatched his phone from his hand like it was her moral duty to save him from a primitive life.
"We're fixing this now. No one survives the 21st century without a proper profile. And now you're ranked in the school. People will want to follow you."
She was already tapping away on the device, her fingers moving with trained speed. When the photo gallery opened, her eyes widened.
Kai watched her with a frown, his chin resting on one hand, elbow propped on the desk, like he was studying some exotic animal.
"How old are you?" he muttered, flat, just for the record.
"God… not a single picture of you alone. Seriously? Just group shots… and they weren't even taken by you. They're from conversations."
"And why would I take pictures?" he murmured, leaning back in his chair like he was surrendering to the coming chaos.
"Ridiculous," Cassie said, and before he could blink, she pointed the camera at him and snapped a photo. The shutter sound echoed through the room like a gunshot.
"There. Perfect. Look at that 'couldn't care less' face. It's perfect for your profile."
Kai rubbed his eyes, already tired of the interaction.
"You're going to use that?"
"Of course! And there: now you're following me, Kiana, and…" She paused, looking around. "Samuel, what's yours?"
Samuel, who had been pretending to stay out of it, hid his face with his arm and replied through muffled laughter.
"Don't have one either."
She looked at him like he had confessed to a felony, then turned to the opposite side of the room, where Kiana sat.
"You heard that? They had nothing."
Kiana didn't respond. She kept her head down, but her shoulder had twitched just a bit.
Cassie turned back to Samuel, extending her hand, palm open and impatient.
"Then we're making one now. Hand it over," she declared, morally taking charge of the situation. "And don't bother resisting. This is your digital rebirth, just like Kai's."
Kai let out a long sigh, like he was surrendering to the inevitable.
This is straying far from anything relevant…
But he didn't stop it.
After all… there was something oddly amusing about watching social chaos unfold around him — and, strangely, include him.
10:20 AM – Recess – Block C (outside area)
The sky was still clear, now with the sun fully shining. The shadows of Oakwood's buildings cast shapes across the concrete behind Block C—a half-forgotten area, mostly used by couples or groups trying to avoid curious eyes.
Kai was there. Leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets, expression neutral. Waiting.
Across the yard, sneaking between the bushes and discreetly weaving around the side pillars, three students tried their best to stay hidden: Cassie, Samuel, and Kiana. Right behind them, the two girls who had delivered the note earlier peeked around the corner with knowing smiles, like they were watching a reality show.
But Kai had noticed them all before they even reached the first pillar.
Stealth grade three, he thought. Too many footsteps, poorly positioned shadows… and Cassie whispers too loud.
He kept his eyes forward when he saw a girl approaching. Alone.
Blonde. Straight, long hair, loose. Light eyes, posture a bit nervous — but trying to seem confident. He didn't know her well, but she seemed to be in one of the senior classes. There was something delicate in her stride, and the way she held her fingers together in front of her body confirmed the obvious.
Yeah… just another random thing.
Kai let out a quiet sigh as she stopped a few steps away. She tried to open her mouth with a timid, clearly rehearsed smile.
"Kai, I just wan—"
"Listen," he cut her off, tilting his head slightly, like he was trying to avoid dragging something out.
The girl froze mid-sentence.
"You're pretty, really," he continued, speaking quickly, like ripping off a bandage. "But if you're about to confess, better not to. I'm not the guy you're looking for. And this school is full of better ones.
Behind the wall, Cassie pressed her lips together to avoid laughing out loud, then whispered with a half-smirk:
"What a jerk. He didn't even let her talk."
Samuel let out a choked "oof," impressed by the coldness of the rejection.
"Clean cut, no mercy," he muttered, patting Cassie's shoulder.
Kiana couldn't help it. The relief hit so genuinely that it slipped out without control — a short, soft laugh, but real.
The others turned to her at the same time with that classic expression of seriously, you laughed?
Kiana coughed lightly, trying to regain her composure, but the corner of her mouth wouldn't hide it.
The girl in front of Kai lowered her eyes slightly, trying to keep her composure. She took a deep breath. Then lifted her chin with visible effort.
"Can I at least… add you on social media? Or get your number?"
Kai looked her in the eyes for a second. No sarcasm, no judgment. Just honesty.
"Sure," he replied naturally. "But I don't use it. Actually, they made me one today."
She blinked, not sure if he was serious or mocking.
But Kai had already given a slight nod, calmly turning to leave.
That was the end of it — dry, straightforward, no drama.
And several silent hearts reacted from behind the wall.
Interlude — Part 2: A Shadow over BrickvaleWednesday, May 15th, 2013 – 11:47 PM – Brickvale, East Chicago District
The alley reeked of mold, urine, and burned oil. Piles of junk formed natural labyrinths between the decaying buildings of Brickvale, where even the streetlights hesitated to shine. A recently unloaded truck, its back still open, revealed boxes marked with fake seals.
"Three batches. Today. And next week, three more." said the man in a worn-out cap, his nicotine-stained fingers flicking the envelope toward the younger one in the oversized trench coat.
"I just want my cut guaranteed, Arnie. No surprises. The Mexican wants order."
"You'll get it. No one even breathes here without us allowing it."
But then… the air changed.
It wasn't a sound. It was the lack of one. A hole in the silence — as if something was there… watching.
Then the first one dropped.
A shadow fell from the warehouse rooftop, hitting the man in the cap with precise force to the neck. No scream. He collapsed instantly, unconscious, as the second man — Arnie — drew his gun, eyes wide.
"Target visua—"
A titanium boomerang sliced through the air and shattered his wrist with a dry crack. The weapon flew across the concrete, discharging as it landed.
The figure emerged from the darkness like a living answer to fear.
Cloak flowing. Flexible armor. Impenetrable mask with glowing white eyes. He didn't run. He walked.
Darkwing.
Arnie tried to run — stumbled — and his muffled cries were quickly silenced by a kick to the throat.
Two others, farther down the alley, reacted. One raised a shotgun.
But the lamp above exploded with a sharp crack.
Darkness swallowed the alley.
When their eyes adjusted—
the vigilante was gone.
"Shit, shit, where the hell is he?!"
A blur fell between them like a storm. One man's arm was broken as he was flung against the truck. The other took a punch straight to the solar plexus and collapsed, breathless.
Darkwing turned slowly toward the last man standing: a young guy in a sports jacket, panic in his eyes, backing toward the side alley.
"F-fine! Okay! I'll talk, I swear!"
Darkwing advanced without a word. In his hand, a telescopic baton extended with a sharp click.
"Next week... big shipment! I don't know where—some warehouse in the chemical district, I think! Not Russian, Mexican maybe—just... please, that's all I know!"
Darkwing didn't respond. His brow furrowed.
No fixed day. No hour.
A few seconds later, he dropped a smoke bomb — a muffled pop followed by a thick cloud swallowing the alley.
When the man's vision cleared, the shadow was gone.
And in the silence that followed, the sound of distant sirens felt almost rehearsed.
It would be impossible for them to escape the police now.
Not a single step wasted.
Everything was calculated.