The air was heavy.
A strange pressure lingered in the narrow alley, thick and unmoving. The sun dipped low behind the worn rooftops, casting long shadows that crawled along the cracked pavement.
Milo stood still.
The fading light brushed the edge of his face, highlighting his sharp features and unreadable expression. His dark robe swayed faintly in the breeze, the hem brushing the dusty ground. Brown hair, slightly tousled and falling just above his shoulders, framed his calm yet focused eyes — deep brown, locked firmly onto the figure ahead.
Across from him stood the man — quiet, unmoving, calm.
His skin was lightly tanned, his jaw covered in faint stubble. Cold gray eyes stared back with steady intensity. He wore a dark, worn-out shirt under a battered jacket, and torn pants that told stories of hardship. His old, scuffed boots were planted firmly, legs slightly bent — prepared.
In both hands, he held twin pistols, forged from pure energy. The barrels pulsed faintly with a glow, like veins of light ready to strike.
Silence.
Milo broke the silence with a calm but firm voice:
"Listen… let's avoid all this.
There's no need to fight we can talk this through."
But the answer came sharp, like a blade slicing the air:
"Shut up."
The man's voice was cold, cutting.
"I won't listen to your lies, intruder.
"I know scum like you all too well."
His voice dripped with disgust.
"This isn't the first time…
But this time you're not getting away"
Milo's eyes narrowed, a flicker of surprise crossing his face.
"You're seriously mistaken… I only want the neckla—"
Before he could finish, a shot tore through the air.Milo's eyes narrowed, a flicker of surprise crossing his face.
"You're seriously mistaken… I only want the neckla... "
Before he could finish, a shot tore through the air.
A voice called out from the side, one of the bystanders near the gunman:
"He got him!"
The man lowered his pistols slightly, a small smirk playing on his lips.
But suddenly
a spark of energy erupted from Milo.
His brown hair fluttered with the pulse of power as his robe swayed in the sudden gust.
Two bullets slammed into his right wrist with a sharp impact.
Milo gritted his teeth, feeling the sting.
A faint scratch appeared on his skin, smoke rising slightly from the wounded area.
Despite the pain, Milo's eyes remained steady, unyielding.
The man stood frozen, eyes wide in stunned silence no words escaped his lips.
Energy began to ripple from Milo's body, a faint glow spreading across his skin like wildfire.
His voice was low but steady, carrying the weight of resolve:
"You left me no other choice."
Then, in a blink, Milo dashed forward
a sudden burst of speed and power that shattered the silence around them.
Milo swung his right hand in a powerful strike.
The man blocked it with his right arm, muscles tense and steady.
Quickly, he grabbed his pistol and aimed it straight at Milo's forehead.
But Milo was faster.
He thrust his right hand forward, pushing against the man's arm.
The sudden force threw the pistol off balance, making it vanish from sight.
Seizing the moment, Milo delivered a sharp right-handed kick to the man's side, driving him to the right.
The man staggered, hitting the ground, then pushed himself up onto one knee.
The man noticed Milo moving toward him.
A cold smile crept across his lips.
"Don't get too confident."
In a swift motion, he formed his weapon in his left hand,
quickly pressing the two pistols together.
Energy surged between them as he charged up an attack,
a deadly force gathering at his fingertips
The man unleashed a swift, white beam of energy,
shooting it directly at Milo with deadly precision.
Without hesitation, Milo raised both hands,
blocking the beam as a small explosion burst outward,
sparking dust and light around them.
The man's eyes widened in surprise once again.
"Alright, alright...
Seems you're not weak after all."
Milo's power surged as he charged another strike.
He blocked the next blow with both hands,
a faint scratch appearing on his skin.
He clenched his teeth slightly, wincing from the sting.
The man stood up, brushing dust off his clothes with a cold smirk.
Without warning, he fired a sudden shot at Milo.
Milo dodged swiftly and closed the distance.
The man fired a second, then a third bullet
but Milo was still one step ahead, evading every shot with ease.
When Milo got close enough, the man dropped his weapons,
ready to land a punch.
Milo slipped past his strike and delivered a powerful kick to the man's back,
sending him forward.
The man staggered on the ground but pushed himself up onto one knee once again.
Suddenly, a voice cried out
a girl shouting,
"Lucas!
Milo's eyes widened in recognition.
She was the same girl who had stolen his necklace.
For a brief moment, Milo hesitated, caught between anger and confusion.
Lucas's gaze snapped to the girl, sharp and alert.
The girl spoke urgently,
"Lucas, listen... the truth is... "
Lucas cut her off, his voice firm,
"Mira, listen carefully.
I haven't been defeated yet. He's really strong,
but I won't lose to him.
And I can't avoid this fight
because I have to protect you."
Suddenly, a man emerged from his house.
He was bald, a bit tall, wearing worn-out clothes.
He shouted at them,
"What's all this noise, kids?
Do you think this is a fighting arena?"
Lucas replied casually,
"Oh, hey Bob, how's it going?"
Bob shouted back angrily,
"You damn troublemaker, Lucas!
Since you came here, all you do is cause problems and noise with your damn fights!"
His wife appeared behind him, gently pulling him back.
"Calm down, Bob," she said softly, trying to soothe him.
Lucas shouted back,
"Hey, what do you mean by 'damn old man,' huh?!"
Bob shouted back angrily,
"Old man! Want me to send you back to your mother's womb, you bastard?"
Suddenly, another voice shouted from a nearby window,
"Can you keep it down? You're way too noisy!"
Voices erupted back and forth between windows,
people shouting insults and complaints at each other.
Amid the rising chaos, Milo stood there, surprised and watching the scene unfold.
Milo called out to the girl,
"You! Give me back the necklace."
He started moving toward her,
thinking to himself,
I have to use this chaos to get the necklace back and get out of here as fast as possible.
The girl fled, disappearing into the crowd.
Lucas shouted after her,
"Where do you think you're going?"
Milo noticed her escape and quickly slipped past Lucas, heading straight toward her.
Lucas stopped abruptly and turned to face them both.
The shouting between the neighbors raged on, voices clashing like a chaotic orchestra of anger. People leaned out of their windows, waving their hands, yelling over one another each trying to be louder than the last.
In the middle of this chaos, Milo moved swiftly through the narrow street, his eyes locked onto the fleeing girl. His steps were steady, his breath controlled, tuned out from the madness around him.
He was closing the distance—just a few more steps and he'd catch her.
Behind him, Lucas ran with urgency, his expression tense as he pushed forward. His boots kicked up small clouds of dust as he kept his gaze on Milo and the girl, trying to calculate who would reach her first.
Every scream, every shout from the angry neighbors seemed to blur into the background.
This wasn't just a chase it was a race against time, unfolding beneath a storm of voices, unnoticed by the crowd.
And in those tense seconds, the whole street became a stage for something far more important than an argument: a silent battle was about to begin.
Just as Milo's fingers grazed Mira's arm, reaching to grab her
A fist came crashing into his cheek.
Lucas's punch landed with brutal force, sending Milo stumbling sideways, his boots scraping against the cracked pavement. The impact was sharp, enough to snap his focus and throw him off balance.
Mira kept running through the narrow alleyways, her breath quick and uneven, eyes darting nervously over her shoulder.
Milo planted his feet firmly, his glare locked onto Lucas, fire burning in his eyes.
"Looks like you're not backing down..." he muttered, voice low but resolute.
Lucas didn't look away. Calmly, he summoned his weapon once more, resting it across the back of his neck. His head tilted slightly, a confident smirk curling at the corner of his mouth.
"That question's for you, intruder."
Milo's energy flared around him, a silent, focused aura. He surged forward with lightning speed, feet barely making a sound on the cracked ground.
Lucas raised his weapon, shouting,
"Yo—"
But he never finished. Milo's elbow smashed into his nose with brutal precision, blood instantly bursting forth. Lucas staggered back, yelling,
"You bastard!!"
He threw a fierce punch at Milo's face, but Milo stood firm, unflinching.
Suddenly, Milo drove his knee hard into Lucas's gut. Lucas gasped, dropping to one knee.
Seizing the moment, Milo grabbed Lucas by the collar and slammed a powerful punch into his face. Then he grabbed Lucas's arm, spun him violently, and slammed him down onto the hard ground with a crashing thud.
Lucas's body shook, saliva dripped from his mouth... and then he lost consciousness completel.
While Mira continued running, unaware of the chaos unfolding behind her, the boys who had been with Lucas approached Milo and the unconscious Lucas to see what had happened.
Milo stood firm, his sharp features calm and composed in the fading sunset light. His brown hair swayed gently in the evening breeze, his dark robe flowing around his feet. Before him lay Lucas, unconscious and slumped on the ground.
At that moment, a mysterious figure appeared. Wearing a hood that concealed most of his face, only a few strands of green hair peeked out. A faint smile curved his lips as he sat quietly.
Slowly, he rose and spoke in a calm yet charged voice,
"The time has come."