(A sharp broadcast jingle cuts in. The camera flickers to life, static crawling across the screen before revealing a clean studio. Two anchors sit beneath perfect lighting, teeth polished, smiles rehearsed.)
Chet: This is Chet Chillenhal, and my co-host Mary Sueinhouser, bringing you breaking news out of Soluar City. Former champion of the Lion's Den Tournament, Ephraim Boichi—once hailed as the "Mudblood Miracle"—has been apprehended for the first-degree murder of two officers and one Celestial Captain.
(Mary nods gravely, the headline flashing in bold red behind them: "CHAMPION TURNED TERRORIST.")
Mary: Just days ago, Ephraim Boichi was being celebrated as the underdog who defied fate. But like Icarus, he flew too close to the sun. And when he fell… he brought thousands down with him.
(Footage cuts to chaos—smoke rising from the collapsed Colosseum, angels dragging survivors from the rubble. The camera zooms in on the twisted metal wreckage—the same plane that fell mid-tournament.)
Mary (continuing): That sixteen-ton chunk of ancient metal wasn't just debris. It was a weapon. Thousands dead. Hundreds more injured. And according to officials, the man responsible is now in custody.
Chet: The new pariah of Soluar. The same man who swore to bring honor to the mudbloods. What a fucking joke.
(Mary glances at him, unamused, but doesn't correct him. The broadcast cuts to footage of crowds flooding the streets outside the courthouse.)
Mary: Public response has been… intense.
(People shout, throwing trash at a passing prison transport van. One woman screams, "KILL THE MUDBLOOD!" Another hurls a broken signpost. Reporters fight for space, lights flashing like lightning in a storm.)
Chet (over footage): Supporters? None. Former fans have turned overnight. They're calling him a fraud. A monster. A terrorist hiding behind a smile.
(The feed cuts to a field reporter standing outside the courthouse. The noise of the angry mob bleeds into the microphone.)
Bobby: Thanks, Chet. We're here at the Soluar Justice Hall, where the crowd is demanding blood—literally. Behind me are thousands of protesters calling for Boichi's execution.
(He turns as armored guards shove through the crowd, escorting a cuffed Ephraim down the steps. Cameras explode with flashes. Someone spits at him.)
Bobby (forcing a smile): And here he is—the man himself. Mr. Boichi, any words about your… fall from grace? Why did you and your so-called "crew" kill a Celestial Captain?
(Ephraim's eyes are wild. He's straining against his restraints, voice raw.)
Ephraim: IT WASN'T ME! IT WAS HIM—HOMICIDE! HE DID THIS! HE KILLED THE CAPTAIN! HE FIRED A FUCKING GUN FROM THOSE TREES—GO LOOK FOR YOURSELVES!
(The crowd goes feral. People scream, calling him a liar. One man throws a bottle. A guard smashes the butt of his spear into Ephraim's ribs to shut him up. The camera cuts back to Bobby, who's cool as ice.)
Bobby: Seems the suspect's still struggling to accept responsibility. Up next—one of his known accomplices, Johnny Bravinzala.
(Johnny's dragged into frame in cuffs. His shirt's half unbuttoned, his expression somewhere between confusion and cocky defiance.)
Johnny: Oh no, papi. I don't talk till my lawyer shows up. He on speed dial—and he the best.
(Bobby smirks and steps aside as Mr. Black and Mr. White appear behind him, dead-eyed as ever.)
Mr. Black: Lock them up. Question them. Leave no stone unturned. They stay there until Nero calls for trial.
Ephraim: Don't you gotta read us our rights?!
Mr. White: Yeah. You got the right to shut the fuck up and move.
(The cameras keep rolling as the guards shove the group through the courthouse doors. The crowd keeps shouting long after they're gone.)
[Holding Cells – Later That Night]
(A dripping pipe echoes through the corridor. Metal clinks as Ephraim, Rika, Johnny, and Eliyah are each locked into separate cells. Dragon-core shackles shimmer faintly on their wrists.)
Rika (pacing, her voice sharp and shaking): What the hell were you thinking, Ephraim? What was your plan, huh?
(He sits in the dark, head lowered, chains rattling with every small movement.)
Ephraim: I was trying to protect you. If I led you to the captain with Mr. Black and Mr. White watching, maybe they'd—
Rika (cutting him off): Protect us? Protect us?! You dragged us straight into a fucking execution squad! You think this is help? Look around you, dumbass—we're in cells. Because of you.
Ephraim (quietly): It wasn't supposed to—
Rika (snapping): You never tell us shit! You say there's a killer—fine, but we've never even seen him! Never heard him! And now, thanks to your "heroic plan," we're all screwed. Facing life, or the mountain, or a damn firing squad! You're not a leader, Ephraim—you're a fucking liability. Who the hell even is Homicide?
(Before Ephraim can respond, the heavy doors creak open. Several guards enter, their armor gleaming under the dim lights.)
Guard 1 (sneering): Shut the hell up already. This is a cellblock, not a mudblood daycare. Keep flappin' your mouth and you'll end up like him.
(He jerks a thumb toward Ephraim's cell. Rika follows his gaze—Ephraim's chained tighter than before, gagged with a metal bar, wrists and ankles locked to the wall. His eyes glare murder, but he can't move.)
(The guards leave. Silence lingers, broken only by the sound of distant footsteps and the faint hum of the mana lights.)
Then—
Rico (singing from down the hall, voice like a silk knife):
♪ Steady tryin' to find my motive… ♪
(Johnny instantly responds, like it's a reflex.)
Johnny: Motive.
Rico (closer now): ♪ Why do what I do? Freedom ain't gettin' no closer… ♪
Johnny: Closer.
Rico: ♪ My car is stolen… ♪
Johnny: Stolen.
(A faint chuckle from Rico.)
Rico: ♪ No registration… ♪
Johnny: -tration.
Rico: ♪ Cops patrollin'… ♪
Johnny: Patrollin'.
(The man steps into view—a tall, slick figure in an immaculate blue suit. His walk is expensive—measured, confident, like every footstep is worth more than the room he's in. His smile is razor-thin, his voice dripping confidence.)
Rico: Now they done stop me and I get locked up—
Johnny (grinning): They won't let me out. They won't let me out.
(Both of them laugh—Johnny wheezing, Rico smiling just enough to make it uncomfortable. Rika watches from her cell, suspicious.)
Rika: Johnny, who the hell is this?
Rico (turning toward her, charming): Rico Suave, defense attorney at law. Where there's a "U" in guilty and a "U, O, I" in not guilty. If you ain't leavin' Suave, then you ain't leavin' without Rico.
(He offers a hand through the bars. She shakes it, reluctantly. His hand is cold. Too cold. His skin feels… wrong. Like something alive underneath that isn't supposed to be there. The air chills around him as his grin sharpens.)
(Before she can say anything, he turns and strolls toward Ephraim's cell.)
Rico: So—let's see who we're dealin' wi—
(He stops mid-sentence. Recognition flashes. His grin widens just enough to look inhuman.)
Rico (low): Ah… fuck. It's you.
(Ephraim's eyes snap open, bloodshot. He thrashes, metal chains clanging.)
Rico: My name is Rico Suave, defense attorney at law—where there's a "U" in guilty… and a "G, O, K, U" right here. Remember, if you ain't leavin' Suave—
(He leans close, voice dropping to a whisper only Ephraim can hear.)
Rico: —then you ain't leavin', period.
(He passes through the bars like mist, materializing inside the cell. His breath brushes Ephraim's ear.)
Rico: You tried so damn hard to keep me away. To save your friends. And now? You handed them to me. Every last one. I'm gonna enjoy this—watchin' you squirm as I peel your little team apart. Start with the thin layer of epidermis, then the dermis, the tissue, the muscle—every strip of it—until they're just meat that can't even beg right. Then I'll light a match… see which one burns prettiest.
(He claps his hands softly. Ephraim flinches.)
Rico (mocking): And when I'm done, I'll thank you. For delivering them to me. You really are my hero, Goku Boichi.
(He pats his cheek, laughing quietly as he phases through the bars again. The laughter lingers in the cell like smoke. Ephraim's head drops, chains rattling. He's trembling. Powerless.)
Created and Written by Mateo Woodson
Written and Storyboarded by John Fallout