[Day 7 — 17 days remaining]
Michael and Leona remained under close medical observation at Nazareth Hospital, a fortified facility stationed deep within X City. The white corridors smelled of antiseptic and quiet persistence, a place where lives were stitched back together while the world outside continued to bleed.
Between X City and their destination lay two more cities—Z City, U City, and finally I City.
Each one was a step closer to Zerathos.
Each one, a reminder that time was no longer their ally.
Kael stood near the window of the recovery wing, arms folded, gaze fixed on nothing in particular. The city skyline stretched endlessly before him, but his thoughts were already far ahead.
Kael: (thought)Judging our situation… I need to inform HQ. They have to know where Zerathos is hiding.
There was something else too—something heavier.
Mother…
Without another word, Kael turned and stepped into a vacant room, sealing the door behind him. The lights flickered faintly as he activated his WHA communicator.
The call connected almost instantly.
Kael began calmly, methodically—reporting their current position, the condition of his team, and finally, the location of their primary target, Z City.
There was a pause on the other end.
When he continued—when he spoke Zerathos' codename—the silence stretched longer than before.
Operator: …Are you serious? Is this some kind of joke?
Kael did not blink.
Kael: I'm not joking.
The tone shifted immediately. Voices overlapped. Systems were checked.
Someone asked him to repeat the information again—slowly this time.
HQ: Confirm the location.
Kael exhaled once.
Kael: I confirmed it personally. I spoke with an elite Dark Knight.
That was enough.
Z City.
Also known as Abandoned City.
A place long written off by the World Hero Association—too quiet, too empty, too forgotten to matter. Patrols were rarely sent there. Surveillance was minimal. No one expected anything to survive in a place that was nukes just a few decades ago.
Which was precisely why Zerathos chose it.
Kael asked about his teammates next.
HQ: Diego and Charlie? They'll be cleared for discharge soon. Their recovery is proceeding faster than expected.
Kael: And my mother?
Another pause—shorter this time.
HQ: Her condition is stable. But understand this—the longer you delay, the faster the process accelerates.
Kael closed his eyes briefly.
That was all he needed to hear.
Kael: Send my regards to the team. I'll handle the rest.
The call ended.
The room fell silent.
Kael remained there for several seconds, unmoving, before finally opening his eyes. Whatever hesitation remained within him had already burned away.
Seventeen days.
That was all that stood between the world and whatever Zerathos intended to become.
And Kael would not allow the clock to run out.
It was a little past 8:20 p.m.
Sleep refused to come.
Kael stood beneath the hospital's fluorescent lights, eyes heavy yet restless, his mind too loud to surrender to exhaustion. After a moment's hesitation, he walked toward the vending machines lining the far corridor and fed one a few coins. The machine rattled, whined, and finally surrendered an energy drink.
He cracked it open and downed it in a few long gulps. Bitter. Artificial. Necessary.
When he finished, Kael glanced around for a trash bin—once, then twice—but found none nearby.
Kael: (muttering)…Of course, today just couldn't get any worse, could it?
With a tired sigh, he stepped outside, intending to toss the empty can into the recycling bin stationed near the corner of the building. The night air was cool, unusually still, the hospital looming behind him like a silent sentinel.
As the can clinked softly into the bin, something caught his eye.
A black cat lay curled near the shadows, resting calmly as if the world had never known cruelty.
Kael softened without thinking. He crouched and reached out, gently stroking its fur.
Kael: What are you doing out here, kitty? This place is dangerous.
The cat didn't move. Didn't flinch. Didn't run.
That was when Kael noticed it.
Something gleamed faintly along the cat's left side—an unnatural glow, subtle yet unmistakable. He leaned closer, squinting, his curiosity sharpening into unease.
Carved—no, written—into the flesh was a single word.
BOOM.
The letters pulsed softly, glowing like embers beneath the skin.
A voice spoke from the darkness behind him.
???: You shouldn't be so curious about certain things.
Kael didn't even have time to turn—
The cat exploded.
Blood, bone, and flesh detonated outward in a violent burst. The shockwave slammed into Kael, splattering his face, soaking his hair, flooding his vision in red. The sound echoed—wet, final, obscene.
He staggered back, blinded.
Blood dripped into his eyes, thick and sticky, burning as it blurred his sight.
Kael: (thought)An enemy…? Goddamn it—I can't see shit like this!
He wiped his face furiously with his sleeve, smearing the blood away as best he could.
When his vision finally cleared, he scanned the area.
Nothing.
No footsteps. No silhouettes. No movement.
Kael: (thought)Where is he…? He's here. I know he's here. But where?
The darkness pressed in around him. The night swallowed sound.
The only illumination came from a single streetlight across the road, its pale glow flickering weakly, casting long shadows across the pavement.
If I can turn that light around…
I might gain some advantage.
Kael broke into a sprint.
But before he could reach it—
Something on the ground flared.
Glowing letters etched themselves into the pavement beneath his feet, bright enough to cut through the dark.
CRACK.
Kael skidded to a halt.
His breath caught.
The word pulsed once…
and the night held its breath with him.
The glowing words again?
Kael's mind snapped to attention as the realization struck him like ice water.
Is this his ability?
Before he could react, the ground beneath the letters fractured—thin cracks racing outward like veins in glass. The pavement split just enough to halt him mid-step, the rupture locking his footing in place, forbidding him from reaching the streetlight.
A voice drifted close. Too close.
DarkKnight: Calling your friends like a coward? How pathetic.
Kael lunged on instinct, throwing a punch into the darkness.
Nothing.
His fist cut through empty air.
His eyes darted to the dim alleyway nearby—he could see the space clearly, every shadow and corner—but there was no movement. No body. No outline.
Kael: (thought)I can't see anyone. Is he—? No. That's impossible, but can be too.
Something heavy slammed into his back.
The impact stole the breath from his lungs, forcing him forward with crushing force. Pain flared instantly. As Kael stumbled, he caught sight of it—burning into his skin like a brand.
A word.
THUD.
Before he could process it, another flash of agony exploded from his left thigh.
WHAM.
The word on his back pushed, generating raw force that hurled him forward, while the one on his thigh blasted, redirecting his momentum sideways. Kael was sent flying into the recycling bin, his body smashing hard against its metal edge.
The impact rattled his bones.
A mocking laugh echoed through the night.
DarkKnight: Hehe… are you really the guy who almost killed the boss five hundred years ago? You're pathetic, I'll say it again.
Kael tried to push himself up, pain screaming through his muscles, blood still clinging to his face.
DarkKnight: But I'll introduce myself first, just in case you accidentally die.
The pressure lifted. The darkness shifted.
Dylan: My name is Dylan, codename EnvisionedDragon.
Kael's teeth clenched.
Dylan: I was sent here to gather information about your power. And I'm not leaving until I find out exactly what your ability is.
Kael coughed once, then laughed softly as he forced himself upright.
Kael: Earlier—(wiping blood from his mouth) —you said I was about to call my friends… right?
He straightened fully.
Kael: Then I'm sorry to inform you, that you're dead wrong.
Before Dylan could react, Kael grabbed the lid of the recycling bin and ripped it free, dumping trash across the ground in a loud, chaotic spill. He flung the lid hard—metal clanging as it skidded and came to rest beside the light pole.
Dylan tilted his head.
Dylan: …What's that supposed to mean? Littering?
Kael: If you think I'm only littering—
Kael said calmly, blood drying at the corner of his mouth.
Kael: —then you're wrong again. I'm doing this so I can beat your ass.
A pause.
Dylan: "Beat my ass"? Alright then. Guess I'll play along.
The pressure in the air shifted.
Kael felt it—not sight, not sound, but presence. Then came the crunch.
A footstep.
Plastic cracked beneath a sole.
So that's it.
Kael moved instantly.
He surged forward, fists snapping out in rapid succession, each punch thrown with lethal intent. The air hissed as his strikes cut through it—
—and missed.
Dylan slipped aside with lazy precision, swaying just enough to let each blow pass harmlessly by.
Dylan: Is this the best you can do? How disappointing.
Kael didn't get a chance to answer.
A fist buried itself into his stomach, driving the air from his lungs. At the same time, a glowing word ignited inches from his face.
POW.
The word struck him like a physical blow.
Kael's vision exploded into white, his body collapsing as the force smashed into his face. He dropped to one knee, hands digging into the pavement as pain rippled through him.
Through clenched teeth, Kael laughed.
Kael: This isn't… nothing, compared to what you're about to experience… is much worse.
Dylan: The fuck did you say
Dylan snapped.
He raised his foot to stomp—
—and the world shifted.
The ground surrounding the light pole vanished, collapsing inward as if reality itself had been scooped out. The streetlight tilted, pivoting abruptly, its beam swinging directly toward them.
Light flooded the alley.
Dylan recoiled with a curse as the sudden glare blinded him.
And Kael finally saw him.
Not clearly—just a shadowed silhouette, half-formed, clinging to the edge of visibility. But it was enough.
Kael: (thought)There! I knew it, Invisibility.
And more than that— When he writes words on my body, he's using his fingertip. Close range. Direct contact.
Another thought snapped into place.
Sound effects only. No commands. No metaphors. Just impact.
Kael moved.
He drove his fist into Dylan's stomach—solid contact this time. Dylan staggered, the invisibility flickering like broken glass. Kael followed up instantly, hammering a punch into his face, sending him skidding backward.
Dylan was fully visible now.
Dylan: What—?!
He snarled, rage flooding his features.
Dylan: You bastard! The hell did you—?!"
He swung wildly—
—but something yanked him forward.
Too fast.
Too close.
Kael's fist snapped forward in a straight line, clean and merciless.
CRACK.
Dylan's nose shattered under the impact, blood spraying as he screamed in shock.
Dylan: (thought)When did I—?! How did—?!
He didn't finish the thought.
The space between them collapsed.
Not metaphorically.
Literally.
The distance erased itself.
Dylan was suddenly there, hauled forward as if reality itself had folded. Kael's hand shot out and fisted into Dylan's collar, lifting him off balance.
Close enough now.
Too close.
Standing beneath the harsh cone of light, Dylan could see nothing of Kael's face—only a black silhouette, backlit like a judgment carved out of shadow. The streetlight behind Kael burned like a halo turned inside out.
Kael rolled his shoulders once.
Kael: You know—
He said quietly, his voice steady despite the blood drying along his jaw.
Kael: —I once had a Japanese friend. He taught me his language. Among all the words he shared with me… this one was always my favorite.
He raised both fists.
Dylan barely had time to react.
Kael stepped forward and unleashed a merciless flurry, fists tearing through the air like a storm given form.
Kael: MUDA! MUDA! MUDA! MUDA! MUDA! MUDA! MUDA! MUDA!
Each word landed with a punch.
Each punch landed with finality.
The sound echoed through the alley—bone, flesh, breath collapsing under relentless impact. Dylan tried to guard, tried to retaliate, but every movement was swallowed by the onslaught. His defenses crumbled, his body giving in before his mind could catch up.
Muda.
Futile.
Useless.
Kael ended it with a single, decisive blow—clean, brutal, absolute.
Dylan's body went limp, consciousness snuffed out like a candle in wind.
Silence returned.
Breathing heavily, Kael straightened and snapped the WHA restraint band around Dylan's wrist. The device activated instantly, glowing faintly as it locked into place.
Kael: I did it. I managed to defeat him.
His gaze flicked briefly to the fractured ground near the light pole.
SecondErasure… just in time.
Once he touched an object, Kael could store the erasure effect—anchor it—and then transfer that void elsewhere. He had done it with the lid. Redirected it. Erased the ground itself.
A calculated risk.
A necessary one.
Kael: Now, time to hand him over.
He activated his communicator.
Kael: Extraction requested.
Minutes later, the low hum of engines filled the night sky. A large WHA drone descended between buildings, powerful enough to lift a human body with ease. Mechanical clamps secured Dylan carefully before the drone rose again, vanishing into the dark.
Only then did Kael allow himself to relax.
He let out a long sigh and turned back toward the hospital.
After washing the blood from his face and hands, Kael slipped quietly into the patient ward.
Michael and Leona looked up instantly.
Their eyes widened.
Michael: Jesus, what the hell happened to you? You look busted.
Kael barely reacted. He took a seat, leaning back as if nothing were out of place.
Kael: Oh,this? It's nothing. I just… slipped and fell.
Leona frowned immediately, concern knitting her brow.
Leona: You should be more careful, Kael. Accidental slips are no joke.
Kael gave a small, tired smile.
Kael: Yeah, I'll keep that in mind.