MERCURY’S HIDEOUT–CENTRE CITY.

  Inside Mercury’s hideout, The Alligator sits.

  His mind reels

  A leader must know when to gather power.

  A leader must also know when to let it go.

  His gaze moves across the room.

  Paloma — a major threat. A northern princess. I can't erase the Royalty in her blood. Even still...

  Shion — trembling. Trying not to show it.

  His fist tightens.

  I’m failing them…

  Silence fills the mansion like smoke.

  The Alligator lifts his head.

  It’s time.

  He stands, and strides forward.

  He turns to the group. Worry lines his face, faint but real.

  “Forgive me.”

  Confusion settles across their expressions.

  He opens his palm.

  Thin silver threads spill out — not violent, not rushed — deliberate.

  They pierce into the Mercury members.

  One by one, they collapse.

  Unconscious. Breathing steady.

  Six Human Rights operatives materialize in the hall.

  Uniformed. Disciplined.

  A man wearing a red beret steps forward. His eyes are sharp, calculating.

  “What is your compensation?” he asks evenly. “These individuals are… significant.”

  The Alligator gives a short chuckle.

  “Don’t worry about payment. Just take them.”

  He gestures toward Paloma and Ellen.

  “Not those two. They stay.”

  The red-beret nods.

  The Alligator hands him a sealed letter.

  “When they wake up, they’ll rebel,” he says quietly.

  His eyes drift toward Shion.

  “They won’t like the South. Give them this when they ask why.”

  The operatives begin lifting the unconscious members. One by one, they fade from the mansion.

  The Alligator’s gaze settles on Nina.

  Should I let them take her too?

  Spike. Samuel. I promised them permanence.

  He swallows.

  No.

  They’re safer in the South than in Central City.

  The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  An operative steps toward Nina.

  “Not her,” The Alligator says firmly.

  “She stays.”

  Nina will need Johnny. And Johnny will need someone right now. He's a broken man.

  The Alligator exhales slowly.

  Leadership is not glory.

  It is subtraction.

  The red-beret returns, offering a slight bow.

  “Thank you. You’ve always been a valuable ally to the organization.”

  The Alligator smiles faintly.

  “They’ll strengthen Human Rights. They’re formidable.”

  The operatives vanish.

  Silence returns.

  The Alligator straightens.

  A leader protects. That was the oath I promised Mercury.

  Not trade them.

  Not sedate them.

  Not hand them over like pieces on a board.

  His jaw tightens.

  If I keep them here, they die.

  If I send them away, they’ll hate me.

  Either way, I stand alone.

  Now it’s my turn.

  He walks towards the door.

  No one hears the quiet confession he keeps to himself.

  If this fails… I will not come back.

  Then he fades.

  Antara’s town waits.

  ANTARA’S TOWN- CENTRE CITY.

  Screams tear through the evening sky.

  Gunshots echo. Lives end between one breath and the next.

  Bodies lie scattered across cracked pavement.

  Two Elites walk through the destruction as if strolling through a market.

  Detached. Rootless.

  “This is getting irritating,” the pink-haired Elite mutters, brushing blood from her sleeve. “We’ve searched everywhere. No sign of him.”

  The bald Elite glances at a fallen civilian.

  “We keep killing,” he says coldly. “Eventually, the Alligator will come.”

  A footstep echoes behind them.

  Both Elites turn.

  Daisy walks forward, One-Biskae resting casually on her shoulder.

  She smiles.

  “So you’re the ones?”

  The pink-haired Elite steps forward immediately.

  “Wait,” the bald Elite warns.

  She ignores him.

  Her body folds into the air — space bending around her.

  Daisy’s smile fades.

  The air shifts.

  A ripple — faint, but wrong.

  Daisy perceives the attack.

  Behind.

  There.

  Daisy twists before the bullet slices past her ear.

  The pink-haired Elite manifests where Daisy had been standing.

  Daisy exhales softly.

  So this is perception.

  Not sight.

  Not instinct.

  The way space tightens before something emerges.

  The air folds again — this time above.

  Both Elites.

  Daisy swings One-Biskae upward in a clean arc.

  They vanish.

  The bald Elite reappears behind her, firing.

  Daisy doesn’t look back.

  She feels the distortion — the pressure change — and bends aside.

  The bullet screams past.

  The air compresses again.

  They’re repositioning.

  Daisy lets her aura settle — not flaring wildly — but sharpening.

  The bald Elite solidifies mid-step.

  Daisy folds space just as he does.

  He crashes hard into the pavement.

  Concrete fractures beneath him.

  His eyes shake.

  What is she…?

  Daisy appears in front of him.

  One-Biskae lowers.

  Then—

  She moves.

  A black aura condenses around her, not chaotic — precise.

  A single dark line cuts forward.

  She’s already past him.

  Silence.

  His body separates.

  Falls apart in clean fragments.

  The pink-haired Elite solidifies several meters away.

  Her eyes narrow.

  “Who the hell are you—”

  She folds forward, manifesting directly in front of Daisy.

  A bullet fires at point-blank range.

  The air bends.

  The bullet veers aside.

  Daisy tilts her head.

  “That’s all?”

  She swings.

  Before the Elite can fold again—

  Her body shatters into pieces, scattering like broken glass.

  Silence returns to the street.

  ---

  Across the distance, Daisy’s black aura floats through the air. It brushes past Sonia’s face.

  Sonia smiles.

  Sprint.

  Boots pound pavement.

  Then—

  The air changes again.

  Different distortion.

  Heavier.

  She stops.

  Steps back.

  Two figures land in front of her.

  Concrete splits beneath their weight.

  Pious — Mami’s younger brother, the quiet store owner who rarely raised his voice — stands with his hood shadowing his head. Hands in pockets.

  Beside him, Nathan twirls a knife.

  Both men radiate heat.

  Nathan grins.

  “Tiger woman… we can’t let you pass. That battlefield doesn’t belong to you.”

  Sonia lifts her sword into a horizontal stance.

  Her eyes burn.

  “Fatality Claw. Fifth Stand.”

  A tiger’s roar splits the street.

  The sound presses against the lungs.

  It rattles bone.

  Nathan’s grin falters for half a second, he sighs, brows twitching.

  “So this is it. Time to activate Orbit Flash."

  He closes his eyes.

  Pious finally removes his hands from his pockets.

  A long sword forms in his grip.

  It hums — low and steady.

  Deep, Like something ancient clearing its throat.

  The vibration crawls up Sonia’s arms.

  Warns her.

  The ground trembles beneath pressure.

  Streetlights flicker.

  Dust shakes loose from rooftops.

  A crack splits the asphalt between them — thin at first, then widening like a wound opening.

  Then—

  The three fold into Space. Gone.

  Air wraps.

  The moment they move, the street implodes.

  Sound collapses inward before detonating outward.

  A violent friction blast rips through the pavement.

  Concrete shatters into spirals.

  Storefronts explode in shards.

  Shockwaves ripple outward, ripping through concrete and steel.

  A song with a heavy tempo has just begun.

  And the city is listening.

  Yet, it tells the story through the scar they'll leave behind.

  Stay sharp. Loose focus, lose the dance.