The wind howled past Assad's ears like a thousand sharp knives.
He wasn't just falling he was plummeting.
Spinning. Twisting. Falling so fast that the world below blurred into streaks of black and blue. The explosion had hurled him with such force that he didn't even have a moment to scream—
Then his lungs finally caught up.
"—AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH—!"
The air yanked the sound right out of his throat.
He couldn't control his body. Couldn't steady himself. Couldn't even think straight. He was simply falling. His mind barely managed to grasp one thought:
I'm dead. I'm really dead—
Then—
WHAM!!
Something slammed into him from the side. Was it a metal object? A piece of debris? A chunk of the helicopter?
He had no idea. The impact was so brutal that his consciousness shattered like glass.
Everything went dark.
Assad blinked.
Was he dead?
He looked around.
No.
He was back in that place—
The strange white void.
Silent. Endless.
The realm where the "original" Assad resided.
But this time… OG Assad was up to something truly ridiculous.
He was leaping off an invisible ledge, flapping his arms like a madman.
"Fly, damn you… fly—! Hup—! HUP—! I SAID FLYYYYY—!"
He faceplanted into the ground with a dull thud.
Assad just stared.
OG Assad groaned, pushed himself up, brushed off absolutely nothing from his shirt… then froze.
He squinted.
"…wait a minute."
He pointed at Assad.
"…BRUH. You came back?"
He stomped over, clearly offended.
"It hasn't even been an hour!"
He placed a hand on Assad's shoulder like a disappointed uncle.
"You feeling lukewarm or what? What happened to you? Don't tell me you gave up THAT quickly."
OG Assad leaned in, sniffed him.
Then recoiled.
"Oh nah… you smell like an explosion. What on earth did you do??"
Assad rubbed the side of his head, still feeling a bit out of it.
"I think I also lost— I got—"
TATATATATA—!!
A sudden burst of gunfire shattered the silence.
Assad froze mid-sentence.
OG Assad froze too… then raised a finger as if he just remembered he left the stove on.
"Oh wait— yeah, that. I wasn't really paying attention."
He tilted his head toward the sky, listening as if he had surround sound in his skull.
"Yeah, yeah… that's definitely gunfire. You, the old man, the girl who clings to you, and the smoker lady—"
He snapped his fingers.
"—you were all in a helicopter! And then it blew up. Yup. Caught that part."
Assad's eye twitched. "YOU HEARD IT—?? Then why didn't you—"
OG Assad kept talking.
"But now—" he said, his eyes lighting up with excitement, "it sounds like another helicopter is the one doing the shooting. Which means—"
He grinned like a kid watching fireworks for the first time.
"This is AWESOME. I've never been in a situation like this before!"
Assad raised a hand.
"I'm literally about to DIE and you're—"
OG Assad interrupted him again, pointing at his own chest.
"Since you got knocked out cold— I mean DEEP sleep, like comatose-with-snoring level—"
He smirked.
"I'm taking over here."
Assad blinked.
"…Taking over what?"
OG Assad stretched his arms like he was gearing up for a morning jog.
"Your body, duh."
"Oh wait, I meant to say my body."
"No wait, chill, stop, hold up!"
"Nope."
Mya's scream sliced through the howling wind.
"ASSAD!!"
She gripped Shuren tightly, her eyes wide and heart racing as she watched Assad's body drop, limbs flailing, with no parachute, no control—just a terrifying free fall toward the deadly ground below.
"Sister Shuren—PLEASE!" Mya begged, her voice trembling. "You have to save him! We can't just leave him—"
Shuren clenched her jaw.
"I can't."
Mya froze in disbelief. "What do you mean you can't?!"
Shuren's gaze was sharp and calculating, the cigarette in her fingers shaking slightly in the fierce wind.
"If I dive that fast with you, we'll both lose control. We'll spiral out of control. I'm not risking my life on a reckless move with no promise of success."
Mya shook her head, tears welling up. "But Assad, he'll die, Shō! Shō can get to him, right?!"
Shuren glanced back.
In the far distance, Shō was tumbling through the air, arms outstretched, shouting something muffled by the rushing wind, flipping like clothes in a storm.
"Yeah…" Shuren replied flatly. "That old geezer isn't saving anyone right now."
Mya covered her mouth, panic rising within her.
"What do we do?! What do we—"
But Shuren suddenly went completely still.
Like the world had paused around her.
Mya noticed immediately. "Sister Shuren? W-what's wrong?"
No response.
Shuren wasn't gazing at the sky or the wreckage of the chopper above. She was focused below. Directly at Assad. Her eyes narrowed.
The wind howled.
Bullets from the enemy helicopter echoed in the distance.
And Assad, who should've been unconscious and falling like a lifeless body, twitched again. Mya's hope flickered back to life.
"Sister Shuren, does that mean he can…?"
Shuren exhaled a cloud of smoke, her eyes locked on him like a hawk.
The OG Assad's eyes snap open.
A gust of wind rushes across his back—he's falling. Really falling. But instead of fear, he feels a jolt of excitement. A grin spreads across his face as the ground rushes up to meet him.
Suddenly, the enemy helicopter tilts in his direction, its guns blazing. Bullets whiz past his head.
"Oh hell yeah."
In a split second, Assad twists in mid-air, plants his foot on the shattered blade of Shō's downed helicopter, and rides it like a surfer catching a wave. The bullets slice through the air behind him, but he's already springing forward.
"Tch— wait. I've got an idea."
Below him, debris from Shō's helicopter spirals through the sky—big chunks, tiny scraps, metal shards—all drifting toward the enemy chopper.
Assad's grin grows wider.
"Let's have some fun."
He launches himself off the blade, his feet landing on a falling metal panel before he jumps again. He lands on a spinning rotor fragment, then steps on a literal screw mid-air, leaping once more. Every piece, no matter how big or small, becomes his path. The pilot in the enemy helicopter stares in horror as this madman bounces through the sky, defying gravity like it's a joke.
The gunner panics and opens fire, but Assad is already ahead of the bullets. He's laughing.
Man, this power is exhilarating.
He spots a tiny shard of glass plummeting faster than the rest, plants his foot on it, and shoots upward.
In mid-air, he twists and flips, pointing his hand down. A massive magic circle spirals open beneath him, glowing and rotating as he falls with it.
He drops past the helicopter—just barely missing it. The pilot exhales in relief. Assad doesn't even glance back; he just raises his middle finger. The magic circle slices cleanly through the helicopter. A heartbeat of silence.
Then—
BOOOOOOM.
The sky erupts behind him.
Assad free-falls through the explosion's orange glow, grinning like it's the best day of his life.
The OG Assad bursts into wild laughter as he tumbles through the air, the explosion behind him setting the sky ablaze with orange hues.
"HAHAHA— THAT WAS SO COOL! Man… this takes me back! Just like that time I blew up a whole bank for the cash!"
His voice rings out like a madcap fireworks display.
Up above, Shuren and Mya watch the chaos unfold. Their parachutes sway in the turbulent winds, and they both freeze in shock.
Just moments ago, Assad had been knocked out cold. Now, he's wide awake, plummeting, laughing, and has just taken down a helicopter.
Shuren's breath hitches in her throat. Is this what you saw, Pixia? Or am I losing my grip on reality?
Mya tightens her grip on her straps, her eyes wide and her voice shaky.
"Sister Shuren… was that… Assad?"
In the distance, Shō, still descending, finally catches sight of the aftermath—the smoke, the burning rotor spiraling down, and the figure falling with unrestrained joy.
He exhales, a mix of annoyance and admiration washing over him.
"He's reckless," Shō mutters. "But he's got potential. This cursed kid… might've just earned himself a chance to become something greater."
Below them, Assad continues his descent, spinning in the wind, laughing as if the world is his playground.
OG Assad tucks his arms in and dives.
The wind howls past him violently—he revels in it.
Down below, a twisted piece of metal—a helicopter door—spins through the air. He adjusts his fall, angling his body like a hawk, and snatches the door mid-air, landing on it with precision.
A moment passes.
Then he grins like a man who lost his sanity ages ago.
"SURF'S UP!"
He tilts the door forward and rides it straight down, carving through the sky. The metal screeches as he leans left, then right, pulling off:
insane barrel rolls, backflips with the door still beneath him, one-legged poses, and even a ridiculous "look ma, no hands" as he rests his arms behind his head.
Each stunt sends ripples through the air, making it feel like he's riding a comet instead of debris.
Inside the sleek black vehicle, everything is the complete opposite of the chaos above. It's quiet, clean
Zheng Yan sits with an air of elegance, his legs crossed and a serene look on his face as he gazes out at the city whizzing by through the tinted window.
He speaks without taking his eyes off the view.
"Kinzaū… is everything going smoothly? No issues?"
Kinzaū glances at the side window before cracking it open just a bit. All he sees is an endless expanse of sky and the truck ahead of them.
"No issues, sir," he responds.
Zheng Yan nods, clearly pleased.
"Good."
He intertwines his fingers, resting them comfortably on his lap.
"Mischa and Kinzaū, all we need to do right now is be patient. In just a few minutes, once we hit the docks, the profits will start rolling into our accounts."
A faint smile crosses his lips.
"Think of it as the dawn of our new era."
Mischa offers a respectful bow from her seat.
Kinzaū gives a firm nod.
Meanwhile, high above them…
A wild, laughing figure is sky-surfing toward them on a helicopter door, hurtling through the air at breakneck speed.