"Hey, kid… what are you looking?"
Wal paused mid-step.
He slowly turned his head toward the voice. A tall man stood behind him, calm yet unreadable, long black hair tied loosely behind his neck. Black clothes. Black eyes. Something about him felt… wrong.
"Nothing, sir," Wal replied casually. "But you kinda look nice. What were you talking about before?"
The man's lips curved slightly.
"That is none of your concern," he said. "Stay away from strange things."
He took a step back, then added,
"By the way… my name is Loki."
Wal blinked.
Loki raised an eyebrow.
"Oh—uh," Wal scratched his head. "My name's Wal. We've got cool names, bro."
"…Whatever," Loki muttered, turning away.
The show continued as usual.
And just like that—
It ended.
"Okay, everyone!" a clown announced loudly. "Thanks to all the audience who waited for the surprise. Thank you for your patience!"
Wal stretched.
"Yeah… finally. I'm gonna get my gift."
The moment Loki vanished, the air screamed.
A thunderclap split the hall as blue-white lightning tore through the mist.
The three clowns didn't even have time to react.
Their smiles froze.
Loki reappeared behind them—eyes cold, expression empty.
"Better not to waste time."
A single slash.
Lightning moved before sound.
The first clown's head separated cleanly, the body collapsing as if its strings were cut. The second tried to scream—but electricity pierced straight through his chest, burning the laugh off his face. The third clown jumped back, hands raised, eyes wide with fear.
Too late.
A shadow of ice spread across the floor.
The temperature dropped instantly.
The mist began to crystallize.
From the frozen fog, a boy stepped forward.
White breath escaped his lips.
Sharp, calm eyes.
Three floating ice shards rotated near his wrist, glowing faintly.