Nightveil stood at the center of the ruined arena.
Calm.
Unmoving.
As if he belonged there.
Raze Arcwell lay unconscious at his feet—armor shattered, radiation silent, body still.
For half a second, the stadium remained frozen in disbelief.
Then—
Heroes moved.
S-class operatives, academy instructors, elite guards—dozens of them surged forward at once, instincts screaming to eliminate the threat before him.
Power flared.
Weapons activated.
Nexas surged.
And Nightveil raised one hand.
"Whoa. Whoa. Slow down."
His voice wasn't loud.
It didn't need to be.
Every speaker in the stadium crackled—and his words echoed through every screen, every hallway monitor, every emergency display across Nexara.
"Let's not be hasty."
The heroes halted mid-stride.
Nightveil tilted his head slightly, as if amused.
"Unless," he continued casually, "you want the bombs I planted under the audience stands to detonate."
Silence.
Pure, absolute silence.
A chill spread through the stadium.
"…Bombs?"
"…Is he bluffing?"
"…He wouldn't—"
Parents clutched their children.
Students froze in terror.
Heroes clenched their fists, muscles screaming to move—but they didn't.
Because no one knew.
And no one could afford to be wrong.
Nightveil smiled faintly beneath the blindfold.
"Good," he said. "I'm glad we understand each other."
He lowered his hand and slowly turned in a full circle, surveying the packed stands, the shattered arena, the stunned faces.
"So many people," he mused. "So much faith placed in heroes. In barriers. In systems."
His gaze—hidden yet somehow piercing—returned to the boy at his feet.
Raze Arcwell.
"I came today," Nightveil said, "because I knew it was the final day of Round Two."
Murmurs rippled through the crowd.
"The day when the strongest student of the next generation would fight"
He looked up.
His head turned toward Astra Noire.
Even without seeing his eyes, she felt it.
"Good day to you," Nightveil said politely. "Astra Noire. The academy's golden prodigy."
Astra's fists clenched.
Nightveil chuckled softly.
"You fought beautifully," he continued. "Even under suppression. Even under pain. Truly impressive."
Then his tone shifted.
Curiosity.
"But what interests me far more…"
"…is him."
The stadium's attention snapped back to Raze.
Nightveil nudged the cracked stone beside Raze's shoulder with his boot.
"This boy," he said lightly, "can weaken powerful Nexas users simply by standing near them."
Gasps erupted.
"That radiation…"
"He was suppressing Astra…"
"So that's what it was—!"
Nightveil hummed thoughtfully.
"How wonderful," he said. "How *terrifyingly* wonderful."
He leaned down slightly.
"How useful such a power would be… in the right hands."
Astra's voice rang out, sharp and furious.
"Don't touch him."
Nightveil straightened.
"Oh?" he replied. "You misunderstand."
His head tilted again.
"I didn't come here *for* him."
That made it worse.
"I came here to observe," he continued. "To see what humanity is producing now."
He gestured lazily around the arena.
"And instead, I find an unexpected treasure."
The screens around the stadium zoomed in—showing Raze's cracked suit, the shattered Starbreaker core, the lifeless stillness of his body.
Nightveil sighed.
"I certainly didn't expect a catch like this."
High in the stands, Titanheart's jaw tightened.
"Nightveil," the Grand Hero growled. "Step away from the student."
Nightveil laughed.
"Ah. Titanheart. Still playing guardian of hope?"
He spread his arms slightly.
"Relax. If I wanted him dead, he would already be."
A ripple of dread ran through the heroes.
Nightveil glanced down again.
"He's interesting," he murmured. "But fragile. His body isn't meant to carry what he's using."
A pause.
"…Which means he won't last long without help."
Astra's breath caught.
"What… do you mean?"
Nightveil didn't answer her.
Instead—
"Enough."
The word cut through the stadium like a blade.
Luna Arcwell had broken free.
She tore past the barriers, past shouting guards, past teachers trying desperately to stop her.
"Luna—WAIT!"
"Someone stop her!"
Too late.
She sprinted onto the ruined arena floor, eyes burning, voice shaking with rage and terror.
"Give my brother back!"
Nightveil turned slowly.
"Oh?" he said. "Another Arcwell."
Luna stood only meters away from him now, trembling—not from fear, but fury.
"You think you can just walk in here," she shouted, "stand over him like he's nothing—!"
She pointed at Raze.
"He's not yours! He's not a tool! He's my brother!"
Several heroes tried to rush forward—
But froze again.
Because Nightveil hadn't moved.
He was smiling.
Softly.
Almost kindly.
"How touching," he said. "Family."
Luna stepped closer.
"Touch him," she hissed, "and I swear—"
Nightveil raised one finger.
And the stadium felt like it stopped breathing.
"Careful," he said calmly. "You don't want to be the reason thousands die today."
Luna froze mid-step.
Her chest heaved.
Tears burned in her eyes—but she didn't back down.
Nightveil studied her for a long moment.
Then—
He looked back down at Raze.
"…Very interesting indeed," he murmured.
The wind shifted.
The lights flickered.
And every instinct in the stadium screamed the same thing—
This wasn't a warning.
This was a beginning.