The Hunter Association stood at the center of the city like a throne carved from arrogance.
It was power. It was fear. It was untouchable.
A temple built on the backs of the weak. A monument to the lie that strength equals justice.
And Arthur had no intention of walking past it.
No.
He walked into it.
The moment his foot touched the marble floor, something shifted. Not in the building. In the air.
Like the city itself had stopped to hold its breath.
Inside, a group of elite hunters laughed over drinks. They joked about their last raid, about how many had begged before they killed them, about how good it felt to be feared.
And then—
Arthur walked in.
No one recognized him at first. He looked too ordinary. Too calm.
Until the doors vanished. Until the walls melted. Until the floor beneath their feet disappeared.
And in a blink—
They were somewhere else.
They stood in a city of blood.
Not a city. A graveyard.
Buildings made from flesh and bone twisted toward the heavens. Streets paved with shattered skulls stretched endlessly. The air reeked of rot and ruin.
Above them, a red sun bled across the sky like an open wound.
One hunter— A man who once wiped out a village for sport— screamed as his boot sank into the body of a child.
Arthur hovered above them, his red eye glowing.
"Do you like it?" he asked, voice calm. "This world is made from everyone you've killed."
Another hunter—a woman crackling with electricity—snarled. "You think tricks will scare us?"
Arthur chuckled.
"Oh, I don't want to scare you." His smile curved like a blade.
"I want you to suffer."
A colossal arena rose before them— a colosseum built from screaming souls.
Thousands of ghostly faces stared down from the stands.
Arthur spread his arms.
"Ten rounds," he said lightly. "Win one? You move on. Lose one—" He snapped his fingers.
A hunter exploded into red mist.
Screams erupted.
Arthur grinned.
"That about sums it up."
And just like that—
The game began.
Far from the chaos, in a quiet place untouched by death and screaming ghosts—
Camila stared at the screen like it had just punched her in the gut. Her book slipped from her fingers without her noticing. Arthur had been the one who once told her to trust again, after everything. Now? He was unrecognizable.
Liam sat frozen, his golden aura glitching with every scream that echoed through the livestream. Arthur had been the only person who'd ever treated him like more than a weapon. Seeing him now—using power the way their enemies did—felt like watching a god fall.
Athena couldn't stop trembling. Her hands clutched her shirt tight over her heart. Arthur was the one who pulled her from the rubble. The one who smiled at her when she forgot how. She covered her mouth as if holding in a scream, tears welling in her eyes.
And Amelia? She didn't blink. Her smile was soft. Sad. Resigned. Because deep down, she had always known Arthur's wrath had no ceiling. But that didn't make it hurt any less. He had once called her his anchor. Now he looked like a storm untethered.
They watched in silence, each of them haunted by different memories—of the Arthur they knew, and the monster he was becoming.
Camila whispered, voice raw and barely audible, "We need to find him."
No one argued.
Because if they didn't— They wouldn't just lose Arthur. They might lose everything he once stood for.
Four people stared at the screen.
Camila's grip tightened around her book. Liam's golden aura pulsed in time with his heartbeat. Athena's breath caught in her throat. Amelia? She just smiled.
But all of them knew— This wasn't the Arthur they remembered.
He had always been intense. But this? This was something else.
Something colder.
And as the screams echoed from the livestream, Camila whispered, "We need to find him."
No one disagreed.
Because if they didn't— They might never get him back.
Or worse— No one might survive him.
Back in the arena— the screams never stopped.
The hunters—apex predators, killers without conscience— were now the ones trembling.
They'd never known fear. Not when they murdered families. Not when they hunted the helpless. Not when they crushed hope beneath their boots.
But now? Now they couldn't breathe.
Arthur floated above them, watching. Unblinking. Smiling.
"Alright," he said. "Round two."
A loud bell rang. A screen appeared in the sky.
Twenty-five names. Fifteen still lit. Ten already gone.
Arthur clapped his hands.
"Let's play The Hunt."
The arena melted again— turning into a dense, nightmare forest.
The trees dripped black blood. The wind whispered in broken voices.
And Arthur's face appeared on a hovering screen.
"Normally," he said, "you do the hunting." His smile widened. "But tonight? You run."
"Survive an hour. That's it." He leaned in.
"Oh—" His eyes glowed.
"And try not to scream."
Because the forest had begun to move.
The trees bent. The shadows stretched. And from the darkness— They came.
The hunters had killed many things in their lives. But not like this.
These were monsters made from their own sins.
Children with mouths stitched shut. Mothers with eyes gouged out. Men with heads split open and still whispering.
They knew the faces. They recognized the bodies.
They had killed these people.
And now— The dead were hunting them.
One hunter ran. Another followed.
And the forest swallowed them whole
The silence after Arthur's breakdown didn't last.
Rain still fell, steady and cold—but it wasn't the same anymore.
Arthur had just opened himself up, laid bare the scars no power could erase. Camila, Liam, Athena, and Amelia stood around him—not as warriors, not as gods, but as friends who finally understood just how much he'd carried alone.
And then—
The air changed.
Like someone had sucked all the warmth out of the world.
Arthur's spine straightened instinctively. Camila's golden eyes narrowed, a sharp glint flashing through the raindrops. Liam stepped forward, his aura shimmering with tension. Amelia's fingers twitched, subtle, ready. Athena's breath hitched.
They all felt it. Something—or someone—was watching them.
From the shadows, figures emerged.
Not monsters. Not ghosts. Not even the chaotic manifestations Arthur had conjured before.
These ones were calm. Controlled. Precise.
Men and women in black suits stepped silently into the clearing. Their expressions were unreadable. Their movements were like clockwork—deliberate, synchronized.
And there were dozens of them.
Camila's voice cut the silence like a blade. "Are you here to pick a fight?"
She didn't yell. She didn't raise her hand. But there was a threat behind every syllable—clear, cold, and promising disaster.
The lead figure didn't flinch. He took another step forward, shoes tapping softly against the broken pavement.
Liam's fists clenched. Golden energy coiled around his arms like serpents. "Say something. I dare you."
Athena shifted closer to Arthur. She didn't even realize she was doing it. Her instincts were screaming at her to protect him—whatever he had become, however monstrous he might seem, he was still Arthur.
Amelia… She smiled. But it was the kind of smile that promised nothing good. "I've been bored all day," she murmured. "Wanna give me a reason to try something new?"
The man in front finally spoke. His voice was calm. Steady. Measured.
"We are not here to fight."
Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Then what? Here to lecture me? Arrest me? Try to fix what's already shattered?"
"We are here to invite you," the man replied.
Arthur laughed. Not the chaotic, broken laugh from earlier. This one was bitter. Flat.
"Invite me?"
The man didn't blink. "The game has changed. The gods are moving. The world is watching. We believe you are… necessary."
"Necessary for what?" Camila asked sharply, stepping in front of Arthur now.
The man looked at her. No expression. No visible emotion.
"For balance."
Arthur stared at them. For a long moment, no one said anything.
Then—he smiled. But it wasn't the same smile as before. It was tired. It was real.
"Let me guess," he said quietly. "You only care now because I made it public. Because I made it impossible to ignore."
The man didn't answer. Didn't need to.
Arthur shook his head. "You didn't come because of the blood. You came because I embarrassed the people in charge."
Athena stepped closer. "Arthur, you don't have to listen to them."
"I know," he said.
He looked at all of them. Camila. Liam. Athena. Amelia.
And for the first time in a long time—he smiled like he meant it.
"But I think I want to see what this next game looks like."
The man nodded. "Then come with us."
Arthur paused. Then turned to the others.
"You coming?"
Liam smirked. "Obviously."
Amelia flipped her hair. "Please. Like I'd miss the chance to burn a new system down."
Athena didn't say anything. She just walked to his side and took his hand.
Camila looked at the suited figures. Looked at Arthur. Then finally—sighed.
"Yeah," she said. "We're coming."
And with that—
The rain fell just a little softer. The city, though ruined, held its breath again. And the game?
It was just beginning.