Smoke and dust swirled through the shattered streets of the city. Helicopters hovered above, their blades slicing the air, sending shards of debris in every direction. The Golden Angel had deployed five of them, carrying elite squads armed with EKG rifles, RSK weapons, and high-grade tactical gear. They were here to contain the threat, yet none could have anticipated what was waiting below.
And there it was—Black‑Dash.
It appeared from nowhere, as if emerging from the very shadows of the city itself. No one saw it descend, no warning, just carnage. Civilians screamed and scattered, but the monster moved faster than any human could comprehend. Every step was a blur. Every strike left destruction in its wake. One soldier tried a desperate suicide bombing, clutching the device like hope itself. Black‑Dash waited. The seconds stretched. The explosion ignited, and the shockwave should have ripped through the streets—but the monster had already moved. Nothing touched it. Not a scratch. Not a hair out of place.
On the rooftop, Soji watched, bluish-black aura flaring across his eyes. Dragonfly Eyes revealed every instant of the monster's motion, but it was still faster than he could fully track. The sniper rifle lay shattered at his feet, the weapon he had relied on for long-range precision destroyed before he even had a chance to fire again.
"You destroyed… my little toy," the monster's hollow voice echoed, mocking. "Little human… I see you…"
Soji's mind raced. He crouched low, activating miniature domain, amplifying his speed and reflexes. He leapt to the side, landing on the edge of a broken building. His Katana came into hand, blade humming faintly with bluish-black aura. Each swing, each strike, carried the weight of his focus, his energy flowing into every motion.
The monster didn't stop talking, its speech chaotic yet strangely coherent:
"Fragile bones… screams… run-run-run… can't hide… can't hide… delicious…"
From the streets below, Finn's red-and-gold flames erupted, cutting through debris and blocking some of the monster's momentum. Rye's swords of light intersected with Black‑Dash's swinging limbs, but even together, they barely slowed it. Civilians were crushed, thrown, and impaled by debris as Black‑Dash's speed turned the battlefield into a deadly blur.
The monster's focus shifted suddenly, spinning and bounding across rooftops. Soji noticed its attention scanning for targets—calculating distances, predicting the flight paths of bullets that no longer existed, seeking the heads of soldiers. Helicopters strafed the streets, firing with synchronized precision, yet each volley was dodged before it even left the barrels. One chopper's main rotor cracked from a strike that never seemed to land yet shattered the city with kinetic shock.
Soji's mind worked faster than his body could always react. He activated Devouring Vows, mimicking a partial Dash Flash maneuver. The movement carried him across the rooftop in a blur, slashing through structural debris, narrowly avoiding the monster's lashing strikes. Every step felt like dancing on a knife's edge. He could see Black‑Dash's strategy forming in real-time: a path to strike, a path to slaughter, and a path to toy with its prey.
"Little one… do you think you can fly?" Black‑Dash hissed again, its tone teasing, cruel, and gleeful all at once.
Soji's eyes flickered, bluish-black, every sense screaming. He didn't have the speed to match the monster in raw movement, but intelligence and prediction were his weapons. Using Dragonfly Eyes, he plotted trajectories, noting the destruction patterns and weak points, preparing for a strike. He moved, leapt, spun, and slashed with deadly precision.
Even then, the casualties mounted. Soldiers died attempting to intercept Black‑Dash, helicopters were shredded midair, and civilians fell in waves. Every movement of the monster carried the weight of inevitability, yet Soji refused to be paralyzed by fear.
Finn called out, flames roaring: "Soji! Keep moving! He's calculating every angle!"
Rye's blades of light intercepted a swing that could have impaled Soji through the chest. "Stay focused! I can't hold him forever!"
The monster's mocking voice trailed in their ears, gibberish mixed with threats:
"Fragile little human… so fragile… can't hide… your little tricks… useless… hahaha…"
Soji crouched atop a jagged edge, analyzing. Every beat of Black‑Dash's movement, every rhythm of its attacks, every sarcastic syllable it spat out—the monster revealed itself as both hunter and teacher. Its chaos was structured, precise, intelligent. Yet Soji had one advantage left: his mind, his speed, and his instinctive use of energy.
He whispered to himself, gripping the Katana tight:
"Little one… maybe it's time… to show you what I can do."
Above the streets, helicopters hovered precariously, soldiers scrambling to survive. Below, Black‑Dash continued its deadly spree, moving like liquid darkness. And amidst all this, Soji prepared his counter—a fusion of miniature domain, Dragonfly Eyes, and Devouring Vows. The city itself trembled as the stage was set.
The monster's final taunt echoed as Soji leapt into action:
"You think… you can fly, little one?"
This time, the hunter had an answer.