As the trio emerged from the vent's exit, the world exploded into a furnace of orange and ash. The volcanic tip stretched like the mouth of a waiting beast—glowing with liquid death, smoldering rock, and heat that made the air shimmer in waves.
But what drew their eyes wasn't the lava.
It was the two figures standing ahead—already waiting.
The first stood tall and unshaken, his dark armor shimmering faintly under the warped light. Bright orange eyes glowed like twin suns behind long hair that fluttered in the heat. His presence radiated a surreal calm.
Rank 3: Black Dragon.One of the five generals not aligned with the rich. A monster in human form, his ability to bend and speed up light in 100-fold increments made him nearly untouchable. The volcanic light bent around him like a halo. His face unreadable, like he wasn't here for war—but judgment.
Beside him stood another.
Hair dyed a subtle electric blue, tailored coat sharp, sleeves folded just enough to expose the veins pulsing with cooling gel. A sword rested casually on his shoulder, humming slightly.
Rank 6: Blue.Atama's rival—and enforcer of the rich.
The moment tensed.
Atama stepped forward, hands in his pockets, sweat on his brow from the climb, but still with that sleepy, dead-eyed smirk. "Yo, Blue. That haircut still paid for by bribes or did you sell another spine to afford it?"
Blue barely turned his head, expression flat. "Didn't realize jokes could be recycled and still biodegrade."
Seko glanced between the two. There was no hostility, just an odd familiarity—like two bored titans, meeting again at the chessboard they pretended to hate.
Atama chuckled, kicking a stray rock toward the lava. "Let me guess. You're here to drag me back with a leash?"
Blue exhaled slowly, almost like a sigh. "Not interested in dogs anymore. Just here to see if you'd trip over your own ego and fall in."
Black Dragon didn't speak. His gaze was locked onto Seko. Not hostile. Just… curious. Like he was observing a potential. A future. A weight.
Kiyomi gripped the edge of her pants lightly, gaze shifting between them. She knew how volatile this standoff could become.
Then Atama waved lazily. "We're not here to fight. Just sightseeing. Trying to catch the sunrise."
Blue let his sword drop, the tip landing silently despite the weight. "Try not to die before then. I enjoy our arguments. They keep me from murdering the others."
And just like that, the tension eased.
But no one truly relaxed.
Because this was only a pause… in a storm waiting to break.
Blue moved first—like a lightning bolt with no warning. His blade sliced through the heat-distorted air, aimed clean for Atama's throat. There was no sound of warning, no theatrics. Just raw precision.
But Atama was already gone.
Mid-air, body twisted sideways like a dancer in a lazy pirouette, he laughed. "You hit like a stack of money."
Blue's blade crashed into volcanic stone, carving a perfectly smooth line across the ground as molten rock hissed upward.
"You know," Blue muttered, flicking his sword back without even turning, "your body's gonna get me trillions."
Atama landed behind him, eyes half-closed. "Then invest in better aim."
Meanwhile, Black Dragon—silent and imposing—took deliberate steps toward Seko and Kiyomi. His presence wasn't malicious, just inevitable. Like a natural disaster. He didn't speak. He didn't need to.
He toyed with them.
Kiyomi's sword moved like lightning, trained and honed, but her blade found only empty air. Black Dragon's body was already elsewhere every time. Her breathing quickened; sweat beaded across her skin. Each miss chipped at her confidence.
Seko, however, dropped into the stance of something inhuman.
His spine arched at unnatural angles, joints shifting with audible pops, skin tightening across muscle as his vampire nature bloomed to the surface. A blur of motion—he twisted beneath a feint, circled around, and—
Crack!
A punch connected.
Right to Black Dragon's side.
It was like hitting a slab of celestial iron.
Black Dragon didn't flinch, but his eyes widened slightly. Just for a second. Enough to show surprise. He looked down at the point of impact, then up at Seko—like he hadn't expected him to be... real.
The wind shifted. Lava hissed louder. The air was heavy.
Something had changed. The game, no longer play.
The battlefield was nothing more than a jagged ridge of volcanic stone, the sulfurous air thick with smoke and rising ash. Black Dragon stood at the edge like a sovereign of destruction—motionless, calculating, radiant with authority. Seko and Kiyomi faced him, backs nearly touching, every inch of their bodies alert to the unnatural silence that followed their last exchange.
Then it started.
In a blur, Black Dragon appeared between them—his form trailing afterimages of refracted light. A flick of his arm, and Seko was sent flying, skidding across the volcanic glass until his back slammed into a jagged pillar. Kiyomi spun, barely dodging a blinding arc of light shaped like a blade, the heat searing past her skin. Her breathing became sharper.
"This isn't working," Seko growled, rising with cracked ribs.
Kiyomi kept her sword ready, circling with narrowed eyes. "Because he doesn't move through space—he bends it."
Seko's eyes flicked to her. "…What?"
Kiyomi didn't look back. "Black Dragon manipulates light itself. Every photon, every reflection, every angle you think he's at—he's not. He isn't fast, Seko. He just makes you think he's there before he is."
Another flicker—Black Dragon was now behind them.
"And worse," Kiyomi continued breathlessly, "he can change the speed of light. If he slows it around us..."
Seko's breath hitched. "We move slower—"
"—and he moves like a god."
The realization chilled him more than the heat ever could.
Seko wiped blood from his lip, eyes locked on the figure who hadn't even drawn a weapon yet. Every step they took, Black Dragon responded with silence and grace, like a predator humoring its prey. Kiyomi darted in again, but her blade passed through nothingness—a shimmer of heat and light, a mirage.
A moment later, her shoulder exploded with pain as a sharp blow struck from the side.
Seko caught her before she hit the ground, glaring ahead. "So we can't trust our eyes."
"Not our sight. Not our timing. Not even our instincts," Kiyomi whispered. "He controls perception."
Black Dragon began to walk forward again, slow, unhurried. The air around him danced—ribbons of light swirling like spirits awaiting command.
This fight wasn't about strength. It wasn't even about speed.
It was about reality itself being weaponized against them.
Seko's voice was strained, his ribs screaming in agony as he clung to a scorching edge of volcanic rock, the heat blistering his palms. "Kiyomi—how about you alter the gravity, like when we first met? You can decrease his speed at least by—"
He couldn't finish.
Black Dragon moved like a flash of reflected sunlight off glass—instantaneous, cruel, and impossible to brace for. His fist collided with Seko's torso with such force it bent air around the impact. The sound of ribs cracking echoed against the cavernous heat. Seko's body folded before being hurled toward the edge of the molten pit, narrowly managing to grip a jagged rock, his fangs clenched in silent defiance as the magma below boiled louder with every drop of his blood.
Kiyomi's eyes went wide with panic—but only for a second.
Her fingers danced, her pupils dilating. The world around her shifted as she whispered the command. Gravity surged in an unnatural burst. The pressure doubled, then tripled, a concentrated aura around Black Dragon, warping the air like a collapsing star.
She hurled a large chunk of obsidian toward Seko, her intention clear—she would increase its mass as it neared, giving him an anchor to pull himself up, something to break the odds in their favor.
But Black Dragon was done humoring them.
With a lazy step forward and a flick of his hand, the rock shattered midair, exploding into dust and sparks like it had been made of paper. He didn't even look at it. His gaze was locked on Kiyomi now.
"You increased the pressure," he said calmly. His voice was low, almost gentle—but laced with mockery. "Good instinct. Too bad gravity only affects those who obey the rules of the universe."
He walked through the amplified gravity field like he was wading through mist.
Kiyomi's heart pounded. She was already channeling everything she could, her body trembling from strain. But Black Dragon was beyond speed, beyond force—he was altering the rules that defined their fight.
And Seko, still hanging by the edge, blood trailing from his mouth, could only watch as the world bent further and further away from what he could fight by instinct alone.
Seko, battered and bloodied, emerged from behind Black Dragon like a shadow pulled by rage itself. In a final, calculated burst of motion, he drove his blade deep into Black Dragon's lower back—straight through where any other being would have vital organs.
"Thanks for increasing his mass, Kiyomi," Seko hissed through clenched teeth, blood smearing his jaw. "Gave me enough pull to pierce his damn stomach."
For a moment, there was silence. Then a slow, almost pitiful clap echoed in the heat-thick air.
The figure Seko had stabbed shimmered—then collapsed into motes of light, bending and vanishing into nothing.
"Illusion," Seko muttered, stepping back in disbelief, his instincts already screaming at him.
"Even light," came a calm, resonant voice—right behind him—"has mass."
Seko spun around, blade ready, only to find Black Dragon standing there, untouched. His expression was unreadable, but something in his tone carried the chill of cosmic certainty.
"Though negligible... it is rather impressive you were able to increase its gravity several trillion times... considering our cosmology."
He nodded slightly—not toward Seko, but past him.
Toward Kiyomi.
She was kneeling now, gasping for breath. Her arms shook, barely able to support her weight. Her skin glistened with sweat from the raw effort. Blood trickled from her nose. She had pushed far beyond her limit to bend the laws of physics, to give Seko even the narrowest opening.
And it hadn't been enough.
Seko's eyes flicked to her, then back to Black Dragon. Something boiled inside him—not fury, not desperation. Something darker.
Black Dragon tilted his head slightly, studying him like a curious beast. "Your attack was clever. Coordinated. Almost... human."
He stepped forward.
"Now—"His eyes gleamed, blazing like captured suns."—let's see what happens when I stop holding back."
But,
Before Black Dragon could make another move, a hand—slightly out of place, yet strangely familiar—rested heavily on his shoulder.
Atama.
The figure emerged from the shadows of the volcanic mist, casually chewing on a piece of some unknown snack, his posture relaxed and his eyes only half-focused.
"You know, dude..." Atama's voice cut through the tense air, casual and almost bored. "I've sent Blue to a parallel somewhere. Will keep him busy for a while." He chewed, the crunching sound oddly punctuating the moment of relief. "Thanks for your help, anyways. You've trained them enough."
Black Dragon looked at Atama, the edges of his face betraying little emotion, but his eyes seemed to flicker with acknowledgment. "These kids did better than I expected," he said, his voice cool and calculated. "But remember this—I trusted your plan. And I really hope, if this kid, will bring balance…"
The air between them was thick with unspoken words, the gravity of their shared history hanging like an invisible force. Black Dragon's gaze shifted to Seko for a moment, then back to Atama. He sighed and activated a pulse of light—something far more refined than mere light manipulation.
A swirling vortex of light split the air beside him, a rippling distortion that shimmered with an otherworldly glow. "This will take you to Planet Kutol," Black Dragon said, his tone now slightly more serious, but still shrouded in that enigmatic calm. "There is no star on that planet, just light crystals. They should keep this Vampire boy safe... for now."
Atama nodded, his fingers tracing the air casually, as though indifferent to the weight of what was unfolding. "Yeah, I get it. Planet Kutol, right? You've been holding onto this for a while. No sun, no worries for this 'vampire boy.'"
His voice softened, and despite his usual cockiness, there was something else underneath—an odd tenderness for the situation. He glanced back at Seko, his eyes unreadable. "Kid's got potential. Too much for the world to handle, though."
Black Dragon gave him a nod that was both a challenge and a respect, then gestured toward the rift.
"This is the only place he'll be safe, for now." Black Dragon's voice, deep and unwavering, reverberated like a distant thunderclap. "Until he makes his choice. Just remember—keep him grounded. The world's not ready for someone like him."
With that, the rift swirled more violently, waiting for Seko to step through.
Seko, still reeling from the events that unfolded before him, looked at Kiyomi, her exhausted figure barely able to keep her stance. He wasn't sure whether to feel relief, anger, or just an overwhelming sense of confusion. Yet, something in him pushed forward—a burning question, one that could only be answered by taking that next step.
His hand grasped Kiyomi's as they both moved toward the light rift.
He was going. The world might not be ready for him... but he didn't need it to be. He just needed to survive, to understand his power. And maybe, just maybe, figure out where he fit into this chaotic, twisted web.
Atama smirked, the faintest glint of amusement in his eyes. "Oh, and don't mess up, kid. If you do, you know what happens." His tone lightened just a touch, as though teasing. "But I'm not too worried. You're a lot more capable than I gave you credit for."
And with that, the rift pulled Seko and Kiyomi forward, darkness swallowing them whole as they disappeared into the unknown.
Black Dragon stood in silence for a moment before turning to Atama, his presence once again almost invisible to the world around them. "You sure about this? They'll be back, you know."
Atama didn't respond immediately. He took a final bite of his snack, then with a thoughtful, almost melancholic tone, said, "Maybe. But no matter what happens, the world's changing. And I've always known, change is inevitable."
The rift closed behind them, and the echoes of their departure slowly faded, leaving only the heat of the volcano and the endless expanse of an uncertain future.