Chapter Title: Treachery
The aftermath of the explosion still hung in the air, thick and bitter like charred bone. Rubble lay strewn across the once-opulent Gala Hall, its grand chandeliers reduced to molten slag. The night that was meant for celebration had been painted in ash and silence.
And in the center of that silence, Silas Moraku stood blood dripping from his fingers, his sharp eyes locked on Marcus and Cecelia, who stood behind a partially fractured glitch barrier.
Silas tilted his head slightly. "I have no time to waste here."
He stepped forward.
"Cecelia, I have one question… and I expect an answer." His voice dropped an octave, cold and heavy. "Where's America's Yggdrasil piece?"
Cecelia, bruised but unbowed, laughed. "So that's what you're after."
Her lips curled with defiance. "You'll never get your hands on it."
Silas sighed as if disappointed in a child. "Very well. Then I'll dirty my hands… and perhaps in doing so, I'll get what I want."
Drip.
Droplets of blood oozed from his hand, forming perfect crimson spheres that hovered in the air thirty in total, each one pulsing like a heartbeat.
"I detest fools, Cecelia. As much as I enjoy killing…" he rolled his neck, "I hate being stressed and right now you're doing so "
He raised his hand. "Blood Art: Blood Bubble Succession."
The floating orbs of blood sliced through the air, whistling like demonic hornets—racing toward Marcus and Cecelia with violent precision.
Marcus stepped forward instantly. "Glitch Wall: Full Compression."
CHRRRZZZMM!!
A dense wall of fractured blue code snapped into place, shielding both of them. The blood bubbles slammed against it thud-thud-thud-thud but didn't break through.
Silas paused. Eyes narrowing.
"Oh?" he said with a grin. "Stopping my blood? Bold of you."
He took one step forward. "Do you even know who I am?"
He raised his hand, index and middle finger extended his palm.
"Let me show you why you should never stop my blood."
"Forbidden Blood Art: Ten Thousand Blood Weight."
The hovering blood orbs that had been caught by the Glitch Wall boiled, expanding with furious energy—and then multiplied in force by ten thousand times.
CRAAAACKKK—!!
The barrier shattered like glass,
Two of the blood projectiles shot forward like a cannonball, slamming into Marcus's shoulder.
BOOOOOOOM!!
Marcus was launched from the hall like a meteor, blasting through five consecutive buildings, his body tearing through concrete and steel, until he finally smashed into the far end of the district.
170 kilometers away.
Silas shook his head. "Now be at peace, Mr. Nobody."
He stepped forward toward Cecelia, whose knees threatened to buckle.
"I wonder," he mused, "why they made someone like you president. A weakling. A disappointment. A figurehead."
Two fingers twitched.
Cecelia's body lifted off the ground.
She gasped. She wasn't doing it.
Silas wasn't moving—but his blood bending was.
"Where is it?" he asked again.
Cecelia remained silent, her jaw clenched.
Silas frowned.
"If you won't speak…" he raised his hand slowly, and suddenly the blood inside her own veins began to spoil.
Her eyes widened in agony.
Blood erupted from her mouth like a rushing red waterfall, pouring uncontrollably down her chin and onto her gown. She trembled, still floating mid-air.
"I mustn't speak," she thought, pain wracking her body. "If I give him the piece, the world ends. I have to die with it…"
But before Silas could squeeze further—
CRRRRACK!!!
A gigantic human fist smashed into his face from the left, launching him through a steel beam and into the wreckage of the remaining gala wall.
BOOOOM—!!
It was Asger.
Her arm had mutated—muscle tissue enlarged, skin stretched, veins glowing with Shen, this was one of the trait of tissue bending having the ability to
Morph her body however she sees fit .
She stepped out of the debris, smoke swirling around her like a queen of vengeance.
Her voice was dry. "Tch. This is what I could never attain…"
She looked at Cecelia, still bleeding mid-air.
"You still have her under control—even after being attacked. I lose focus, and my targets break free. But you, brother…"
She narrowed her eyes. "…you never lose control unless you want to."
From the dust, Silas rose, brushing blood off his chin.
He smiled.
"Little sister."
Outside – Perimeter Ruins
Madagascar, Tito, and Chiro were in full alert stance as they scoured the destroyed street.
They paused as a slow, rhythmic tapping echoed forward.
Out of the smoke walked Jabo, hands in his pockets, face emotionless.
"No point searching," he said softly. "I'm right here."
As he advanced… thirty children—all identical to the clay boy from earlier—stepped out of the shadows behind him.
They moved in perfect harmony.
"What the hell…?" Tito muttered.
Chiro's red ribbons rippled in the wind. "That's not good."
Suddenly—
WHHHHHHMMM—!!
A body streaked past them like a meteor, smashing into the ground and creating a crater—Marcus, battered and bleeding.
Jabo chuckled.
"Don't lose focus, boys."
The clay children moved like phantoms—five rushing at each SUHA hunter.
The first group lunged at Madagascar, daggers in hand, movements erratic and wild.
He dipped and dodged, weaving through the slashes. "They're fast!"
Tito deflected blows using enhanced agility, but couldn't find room to counter.
Chiro didn't hesitate. Her Red Ribbon unfurled like a dragon—
CRACK—CRACK—CRACK!
It snaked out, wrapping around her five assailants in a single motion, lifting them into the air as they flailed and thrashed.
Madagascar dodged another blade. "Don't kill them! They're just kids!"
Tito blocked a knife with his forearm. "How are you so sure?!"
From the distance, Jabo laughed darkly.
"Kids? Hahaha… do kids do this?"
His eyes narrowed.
"Puppet Art: Puppet Explode."
FLASH.
Each clay child began to glow.
And then—
KABOOM!! KABOOM!! KABOOM!!
FIFTEEN EXPLOSIONS.
BOOOOOM BOOOM BOOOM KRAKAKKRA BOOOOM!!!
Fire engulfed the battlefield in rapid succession, like a chain of firecrackers igniting a war zone. Smoke, heat, and force swallowed the street.
Meanwhile – Seoul
In the moonlit streets of Seoul, two figures walked with cold, calculated pace toward the Hunter Association headquarters.
Both were dressed in Omega attire—jet black with red markings, their presence soaked in dark intent.
Hirito, hands in his pockets, eyes sharp.
Kazuki, behind him, fingers twitching with restrained excitement.
"We're here," Hirito muttered.
"No matter the cost…" he added, "we're leaving with Seoul's Yggdrasil piece."
The storm had only just begun.
End Chapter