(A news broadcast hums to life. Static flickers, then clears into the glossy golden insignia of The New Eden Report: Live from Soluar City. Trumpets flare, lights shimmer, and the screen floods with talking heads bathed in immaculate studio lighting.)
Chet (on-screen): We're back with a surprising update on the case against Ephraim Boichi and the capital murder of Captain Ainz del Rah.
(Images flash: Ephraim's mugshot, bruised and bloodied. The wreckage of the coliseum. Rows of white coffins lined in sunlight. The hollow helmet of a Celestial Captain placed atop one.)
Chet (continuing): Sources say the renowned defense attorney, Rico Suave, has stepped in on behalf of the defendants—managing to reduce what should've been a death sentence to a mere twelve months in the Mount Pan correctional labyrinth.
(The feed cuts to a roaring mass of protestors outside the Soluar City courthouse. Handwritten signs read MONSTER, KILLER, and NO MERCY FOR MURDERERS. Drones buzz overhead, scanning faces as guards brace against the surge of furious citizens.)
Mary: The people are beyond outraged, Chet. Outraged and afraid. They say this leniency mocks the Celestial Guard—mocks justice itself.
Chet: And in a statement that's turning heads, Rico Suave has refused to represent Ephraim Boichi himself, claiming "I won't stand in the way of what the people want."
Mary: Yet he did defend the accomplices—Raphina Arnett, Rika Cider, Johnny Bravinzala, and Eliyah Boichi—calling them "victims of a fool's arrogance."
Chet: Boichi's bail is set at fifteen million euros, and his reputation… is as dead as his victims.
Mary: Until next time—
Chet and Mary (in unison): This has been The New Eden Report.
(The broadcast fades to black. The hum of static lingers.)
[Soluar City — Raphina's Apartment]
(The room is small and dim. Neon spills through the blinds, washing over stacks of sketches, old posters, and a hanging windchime that hasn't moved in years. The only sound is the low hum of the screen before her. The reflection of Chet's frozen face flickers across Raphina's brown eyes.)
(Her hair is styled in micro twists with a Fulani frontal, beads glinting faintly in the cold light. Her jaw tightens. She's pacing, boots clicking against the hardwood in rhythmic bursts of agitation.)
Raphina (under her breath): That idiot… that idiot. He really did it this time.
(She stops, looks out the window. Soluar City sprawls before her—a radiant sprawl of chrome and glass suspended over misty oceans, the lights below like electric veins. In the distance, the silhouette of Mount Pan pierces the sky like a god's broken tooth.)
(Her reflection stares back at her—a flicker of fear, a flicker of love—and something harder beneath it.)
Raphina: No one else is gonna help him. Fine. I will.
(She grabs her plum coat, slides it on, and disappears through her window into the night.)
[The Courthouse — Soluar City]
(The steps of the courthouse are chaos incarnate. The night burns gold under hundreds of holoscreens broadcasting Ephraim's face on every wall. Protestors press against riot barriers, screaming his name like a curse.)
(Raphina blends into the crowd, eyes scanning. A ripple passes through the mob—a man phasing through people, intangible, essence flickering around him like liquid glass. Without hesitation, she mimics his flow, slipping through the crowd like vapor. The noise fades the moment she crosses the threshold.)
(Inside, the courthouse glows sterile white, the soundproofing swallowing the chaos outside. Raphina strides to the front desk, coat swaying behind her.)
Raphina: I'm here to pay Ephraim Boichi's bail.
(The clerk looks up, slow, unimpressed—a man with a slouched posture and a smug grin. He squints, the recognition hitting like bad cologne.)
Clerk: Oh, I know that face. You're his little girlfriend, huh? Saw you cheering at the tournament.
Raphina (snapping): Why does everyone think that?! No, I'm here to pay his bail.
(The clerk chuckles, shaking his head. He waves his hand, and a blue sigil hums near his ear.)
Clerk (into rune): Got the accomplice here. Bringin' her in now.
Raphina: Wait—no! You've got it wrong!
(But the cuffs click before she can finish. The dragon ore hums, draining the heat from her blood. Her knees buckle as strength leaves her limbs. Two armored guards seize her, dragging her toward the cell corridors as her voice echoes—furious, desperate, fading.)
[Holding Cells — Lower Chambers of Mount Pan]
(Ephraim looks up from the cold floor. For a moment, he thinks he's dreaming. But it's real—her coat, her face, the fire in her eyes as they drag her down the corridor. A jolt of something primal courses through him. He lunges against his restraints. The chains groan, the walls vibrate.)
Ephraim: RAPHINA!!!
(The guards don't even glance his way. He pulls harder. His wrists tear, the scent of blood sharp in the air. The runes on the wall flicker like dying stars. The ground cracks beneath him.)
[Courtroom Above]
(Rico Suave enters with the swagger of someone who owns the air he breathes. His coat, tailored black with violet trim, glints beneath the chandelier. His shoes sound expensive — the kind that announce power with every step. A folded fan of money rests neatly in his fedora.)
Rico (smoothly): Now, your honor… surely we can see this young woman had nothing to do with the defendant's unfortunate spiral.
(He steps into the center of the court, hands moving like silk.)
Rico: Yes, she was seen near the crash. Yes, her belongings were found by the sniper's nest. But she's no killer—she's a victim of proximity, not intent.
(The courtroom falls silent. Even the air seems to hesitate. The judge blinks, lost for words.)
Judge: …I wasn't even aware of this evidence. Prosecutors? Thoughts?
(The Demi-Gods whisper among themselves, halos flickering.)
(Below, in the depths, Ephraim watches the prisoners—Raphina among them—led toward the descending teleporter that spirals deep into Mount Pan's molten core. He pulls again. The chain creaks. A crack splits the stone. Another. Then—)
Voice (behind him): Tsk, tsk… all that effort, and still just a boy in chains.
(Ephraim turns.)
(Rico Suave stands there — but not Rico. His form shimmers between light and nightmare. His smile stretches too far. His skin ripples like it's trying to crawl off the bone. Beneath his collar, flesh sloughs away, revealing a second, smaller mouth grinning in his throat. His eyes—hollow sockets with two floating pupils—glow faintly red, spinning like twin embers.)
(He smells of spoiled sugar and decay. Each step he takes leaves a faint smear of something dark on the marble floor.)
(He lets out a sound between a laugh and a scream—a jagged, hyena-like cackle that echoes in the cell.)
Rico (softly): Look, Goku… look who just arrived to the circus. Your little gal friend.
(He leans close, so close Ephraim can feel the wet rasp of his breath on his ear.)
Rico: Just 'cause I know she's special to you… after I'm done torturing her like the others, I'll make sure to take good care of her. You know me, Goku… always a little hungry.
(He pats Ephraim's shoulder — his hand ice-cold and sticky. Then he turns, bones crackling faintly under his skin as he walks away. The cell seems to freeze around him. The smell of rot lingers long after he's gone.)
(Ephraim trembles. Then he snaps.)
(He pulls with all his strength. The chains scream. The wall cracks, dust raining down. He yells, veins glowing, eyes burning white. Then, with one final wrench—)
CRACK.
(The restraints give. The wall explodes in a cloud of dust and shattered stone.)
(He staggers out, blood dripping from his wrists, and bursts through the corridor—charging upward toward the courtroom like a wounded beast.)
[Courtroom — Chaos]
(The doors slam open. Guards turn too late. Ephraim storms in, dragging his chains behind him, the shattered remnants of his cell wall still attached to his cuffs like twin boulders.)
(He roars.)
Ephraim: FUCK ALL OF YOU!
(He swings the chains — the rocks crash into the marble pillars, shattering them. Debris rains down as aristocrats scream and scatter. Judges duck behind their benches as guards scramble to draw weapons.)
(The sound of panic fills the chamber. Ephraim keeps swinging, smashing, destroying everything he can reach. His movements are animal — violent, unhinged, beautiful in their chaos.)
(Then the room goes silent. The air itself grows heavy.)
(Three Demi-Gods rise from their thrones. Their essence pours into the room like molten sunlight.)
First Demi-God (thundering): ENOUGH!
(The pressure drops like a physical force. Ephraim hits the floor, his body pressed down by invisible weight.)
Second Demi-God: I decree life. Send him away.
Third Demi-God (nervously): Wait—shouldn't we consult Soloris—
First Demi-God (snapping): I know what Soloris said! And don't you dare mention Nero. That buffoon thinks he's a god, but he isn't even a false one! NOW SEND HIM AWAY!
(Guards rush him. He doesn't resist. Not because he can't—but because his body is done. He's dragged down the corridor, bleeding, exhausted, silent.)
[Mount Pan Super Prison – Floor 1,346]
(He appears in the cell in a burst of blue light. The air is cold, humming with the sound of enchantments. The bars are woven from dwarven steel and dragon ore, etched with runes that shimmer faintly when touched. He paces, breathing heavy, lost in fury.)
(Time drags. Minutes blur into hours. The cell door clanks open.)
Guard: Rec time, scum. Don't make me regret it.
(Ephraim steps out, eyes blazing. The air outside is gray, full of echoing shouts and metal clangs. The prison spirals upward endlessly—floors upon floors of cages, bridges, and pits.)
(He runs through the yard, searching every face.)
Ephraim: RAPHINA! JOHNNY! RIKA! ELIYAH!
(Nothing but laughter. Whispers. Then a voice.)
Inmate (mocking): That fine piece of ass you're lookin' for? She's all the way up on floor five hundred. You won't be seein' her unless you—HA! HAHAHAHA—
(The laughter cuts off as Ephraim's fist caves his jaw in. The sound of bone cracking fills the corridor. He hits him again, and again, until the laughter turns into blood-choked gargles.)
(He stands over the man, panting, covered in sweat and fury. The prisoners watch from the shadows, silent.)
(He wipes his mouth, voice low, trembling.)
Ephraim: I'm coming for you, Raphina.
(He walks off into the depths of the prison. The lights flicker overhead. Somewhere, far above, the mountain rumbles like a sleeping god.)
Created and Written by Mateo Woodson
Written and Storyboarded by John Fallout