The air hung thick, heavy as iron. Stone leaned against the rooftop metal railing, silver-grey eyes tracing the city below, calm, measured, human among the neon glow. The vermilion beneath slept, hidden.
A shift in the void. A presence, vast and suffocating, coiled around him. He didn't flinch. Didn't breathe differently. Didn't feel—except awareness.
A black cat appeared, fur absorbing the night itself, red eyes twin infernos. The aura pressed, divine and toxic, a chokehold on the senses, yet Stone remained… flat.
"What are you doing here?" His voice was cold, even, detached. "Can't find your bed in that void?"
The cat stretched lazily, tail flicking. "Wow. You're really playing well with your new vessel… jokes still need work, though."
Stone's gaze remained fixed. No reaction. No shift in posture. "I see."
"Anyway," Death continued, his feline form circling, "I came to check on your little revenge arc. Surprised you haven't… massacred them all... by the way I saw what you did in the club. Fine work, indeed."
Stone spared a casual glance. "You really hate having your mouth shut, don't you?"
Death chuckled, faint and playful, then moved to leave. "First my dreams, now the waking world… don't you have people on your death pad or something? I—"
In a heartbeat, Death shifted, form collapsing and expanding until he mirrored Stone's body perfectly—ghostly green eyes, perfect posture, predatory grace. In an instant, he was there, hand snapping around Stone's neck, pinning him to the wall with enough force to crack the concrete behind him.
Stone's eyes widened… not with fear. Not with mockery. Flat. He could feel the magnitude. The chill mask was just a veil. Beneath it, power. Divine, infinite, godlike. One misstep, and he would die before he even felt it.
Death leaned close, green eyes locking not on the body, but the soul. Voice low, calm, suffocating in its gravity:
"Let me embed this into your soul, boy. If you ever… think of giving up on your revenge… I'll make you know real pain. You'll die more than I've lived. Each death… more agonizing than the last. This is your first and last warning."
And just as suddenly, he released him. The aura softened, the green eyes fading into the form of the boy Stone had become, casual, playful, deadly… still perfect, still impossible.
"Man… I'm so hungry," Death said, turning, a devilish smile spreading. He paused, glancing back. "There's going to be an accident… sweet family. Hope their souls are just as sweet. See you later, boy."
And he was gone. Just as sudden as he had appeared.
Stone's silver-grey eyes returned to the cityscape, back to the metal railing. He inhaled deeply, chest rising and falling in calm rhythm. Vermilion burned faintly behind the lids, restrained.
"Hope not," he whispered, voice low, distant. The words were for the void, for Death, for the power that had just shown him the fragility of even his revenge.
He let the city breathe beneath him, neon pools reflecting off glass and wet asphalt. The rooftop hummed with wind, quiet, infinite.
"God or not… this is my revenge. And I decide when I kill my victims,so fuck off....DEATH" Stone muttered to himself.
And there, perched above the city, the predator observed. Calm. Flat. Waiting.
************
The morning sun spilled gold across the sprawling campus, banners fluttering in the breeze, the laughter of students mingling with the crisp air. The graduation hall was a cathedral of celebration—high ceilings, polished wood floors, and sunlight catching the edges of black robes. Two years had passed since Stone had disappeared, since the massacre and the shadow of his presence lingered in every corner of their minds.
Ben and Lara walked side by side, robes falling in perfect symmetry, swords and kunai concealed beneath ceremonial layers. Their faces were masks of composure, yet every glance betrayed memories they couldn't erase. Lara's violet eyes scanned the crowd, searching for familiar faces, while Ben's green gaze lingered on the empty seats that once held comrades.
The ceremony began with the customary pomp—speeches, applause, diplomas—but the atmosphere was tense beneath the surface. When Lara stepped forward to give her own address, the room hushed. Every eye followed her, not just for the words, but for the emotion she carried.
Her voice was steady but laced with a fragile ache. "Two years ago," she began, "we lost someone remarkable. Grayson… he was more than a peer. He was brave, determined, full of potential. He never got to walk these halls as a graduate, never had the chance to fulfill the dreams he held close to his chest."
Murmurs rippled through the audience. Faces that had only known the story of his disappearance now absorbed the weight of her words. Lara's hands gripped the lectern, knuckles whitening, as her voice softened.
"I knew him as someone who fought, who dared to live on his own terms. He wanted to go to college, to see the world beyond these walls, to carve a path different from the shadows of those around him. Today, as we graduate, we remember him—not for the way he left us, but for the life he wished he could have lived."
Ben's jaw tightened. His fists were tucked beneath his robe, gripping them to keep from shaking. Lara's speech painted a figure in all their minds, vivid and real, and for a moment, the past bled into the present. He could feel it—the echo of Stone's laughter, his arrogance, his brilliance—all absent now, replaced by the shadow of memory.
"May your soul rest in peace," Lara continued, eyes glistening despite her efforts. "And may we carry your spirit forward in everything we do."
As she stepped down, the applause was polite but subdued. Ben's gaze fell to the empty seat at the edge of the hall, the one he knew Stone would have taken. The room buzzed around him, but in that moment, it felt hollow. Lara lingered there a moment longer, her eyes tracing the contours of the empty chair, imagining the figure that once sat there—reckless, cunning, untouchable.
**********
The ceremony wound down. Caps were thrown into the sunlight, laughter bouncing off the stone walls of the campus. Students hugged, cried, and posed for pictures, but Ben and Lara moved through the crowd like ghosts, their black robes shifting smoothly with each step. The air around them was heavy—not with the heat of celebration, but with memories they couldn't shake.
"I still can't believe it," Ben murmured, voice low, green eyes scanning the bustling courtyard as though the crowd could erase what they carried. "He… he was supposed to be here. Two years gone, and it still feels like yesterday."
Lara's violet gaze lingered on a group of younger students, unaware of the history, unaware of the boy who had walked these halls and left so abruptly. Her lips pressed together, holding back more than words. "He was reckless, stubborn… arrogant, even," she said softly, almost to herself. "But he was brilliant. Two years ago, he was still fighting—always fighting—never letting anyone tell him how to live. And now… he's gone."
Ben's hand brushed the edge of a bench, eyes closing briefly. He could remember the way Stone had leaned back in his chair, curly hair falling over frost-tipped eyes, a smirk permanently etched onto that infuriatingly handsome face. The way he had carried himself like he owned every room, every moment. The way he had laughed, even when things went wrong.
"I remember the way he would just… take over a room," Ben said, a small, bitter smile tugging at his lips. "You'd think he cared about the people around him… but really, he just wanted to see how far he could push them. And everyone fell in line, or broke."
Lara exhaled sharply, eyes drifting to the empty classroom at the end of the hall. "I wonder if he ever really wanted to go to college. Or if he just… wanted someone to notice. Someone to see him for more than the chaos he left behind."
Ben's jaw tightened, fingers flexing beneath the robe. "He deserved more than this," he said quietly, voice almost lost to the noise of departing students. "He deserved to see it all… to graduate, to live… not… not just disappear into memories."
They walked in silence for a few moments, passing the archways that led to the central courtyard. The warm light painted their faces in gold and shadow. For a moment, Lara could almost see him—the smirk, the untouchable confidence, the laugh that made you hate and love him at the same time.
"And do you think… he'd want us to keep going?" she asked finally, eyes fixed on the empty hall. "Even knowing he's not here?"
Ben's green eyes met hers, reflecting the sunlight, but also the weight of two years' grief. "He'd want us to survive," he said, a grim certainty in his tone. "To keep moving forward. But… I'll never forgive the world for taking him before his time."
Lara nodded, lips pressed tight. "I keep thinking about the small things," she admitted. "How he used to mock the teachers, even when he was cornered. How he'd mess with everyone but still somehow… cared. I wonder if he knew we cared too."
Ben's fingers brushed the edge of a window ledge. He could remember the chaos, the fire in Stone's blue eyes, the way he had stood in the eye of storms and laughed while the world crumbled around him. And now, all of it—the arrogance, the charm, the brilliance—was just echoes. Shadows of a presence that refused to truly leave.
They stopped at the empty classroom door. Lara pushed it open, letting her eyes sweep across the deserted desks. The air was still, heavy with memory. She traced the edge of a chair, imagining the weight of someone who had once sat there, laughing, daring, alive.
Ben leaned back against the wall, watching her. "We can't bring him back," he murmured. "But maybe… remembering him like this is enough. For now."
Lara's eyes glistened, and she pressed a hand to her chest, as though holding the space where he had existed. "May your soul rest, Stone," she whispered. "And may you… find whatever peace you couldn't here."
They left the classroom quietly, side by side, stepping back into the sunlight and the noise of the campus. And though the day went on, full of caps, laughter, and farewells, the memory of him—the boy who had been impossible, brilliant, infuriating, and unforgettable—lingered in every glance, every breath, every heartbeat between them.