Kalyven Streets
On the streets of Kalyven, surrounded by Mikena and her guards, it was time for Haneul and Byeol to fall back and plan their escape.
With their ocular powers already activated, Haneul turned to Byeol.
"Ready?"
Byeol answered without hesitation:
"Yeah."
Haneul raised the grenades, wrapped in an intense green aura, preparing to throw them. Behind him, Byeol activated his own power—his eyes turning completely white.
The throw caught everyone off guard.
Haneul launched five grenades… upward, toward the sky.
The enemies hesitated, uneasy. Something didn't feel right.
In an instant, a dimensional portal opened exactly along the grenades' trajectory. All of them vanished inside it.
Haneul closed his eyes and focused his Iluminence.
Around the street, several portals began to appear—some close to them, others scattered near the enemies.
And then… the grenades reappeared.
All at once.
Three exploded immediately. Nail grenades.
Metal fragments spread through the air, embedding themselves into the soldiers' bodies. Not fatal—but enough to incapacitate them.
Mikena reacted just in time, ordering one of the dobermanns to shield her.
The other two grenades remained intact on the ground. Close to Haneul.
Who still stood motionless, focused, eyes closed.
Mikena narrowed her gaze. A chill ran down her spine.
Something was about to happen.
Haneul slowly opened his eyes. They shone—like a command being issued.
"Expansion."
As the word echoed, the nails lodged in the enemies began to grow.
They extended violently, transforming into metal spikes nearly a meter long.
Bodies were pierced without mercy.
The soldiers… destroyed.
The dobermann… struck as well.
Then, the remaining two grenades exploded.
Smoke. Thick. Spreading rapidly.
"Byeol, now!"
Haneul and Byeol burst out of the area.
Mikena barely avoided the spikes. Caught off guard, she had no choice but to order the other dobermann:
"Go after them!"
The animal sprinted in pursuit, but it quickly became clear it wouldn't keep up. Byeol's earlier strike had left its mark.
Mikena gritted her teeth and stepped back toward the fallen soldiers, consumed by rage. She tried to save those still breathing.
"This isn't over, you bastards!"
She activated her communicator.
"Amastor Street, number 47. I need immediate medical support. We've got multiple casualties."
She quickly switched channels.
"Hedera, do you copy?"
"I do, General."
"I need reinforcements immediately. The three of you head toward Damascar Avenue. Try to locate my dobermann and follow it."
"Understood, General."
"And be careful. Attack to kill… don't underestimate them."
"We won't," another voice replied—male, calm, and firm.
Byeol and Haneul kept running through the streets of Kalyven.
…
Ashveil Blocks, Kalyven
Kalyven was a city of contrasts.
Luminous skyscrapers rose over organized avenues, drones patrolled the skies, and Visionary soldiers maintained the illusion of control.
But that was only in the center.
Around it, another reality existed.
The city was never prepared for those who lost their sight. Thousands of blind people wandered the streets, dependent on a system that failed them daily. Security existed… but not for everyone.
And if that was the case in the center, the outer regions were even worse.
Forgotten zones. Territories where the law was nothing more than a distant memory.
Around the city, five regions stood out for their instability:
Ashveil Blocks, Sevrak Hollow, Baryon Reach, Corvaxis Strip, and Amorath Sector.
Each with its own identity.
But all with one thing in common.
They were ruled by the people… or what was left of them.
Among them all, one stood above the rest.
Ashveil Blocks.
A name whispered—rarely spoken out loud.
It was known for armed robberies, alleys where light barely touched the ground, and entire neighborhoods consumed by drugs and despair.
Here, poverty wasn't just a condition.
It was a state of mind.
And those who lived on the edge… stopped fearing consequences.
Human life quickly lost its value.
From above, Ashveil looked like just another cluster of decaying blocks. Buildings stacked together, narrow streets, laundry hanging from windows.
But as you descended…
The sound came first.
Distant screams. Metal clashing. Rushed footsteps.
Then the smell.
Humidity. Rotting garbage. And something else… chemical.
And finally… the people.
Suspicious glances. Quick movements. Hands always ready—to run… or to strike.
In the middle of that scene, a young man walked alone.
In broad daylight.
Unhurried. Unshaken.
His footsteps echoed between the buildings as if he didn't belong to that world.
And in truth… he didn't.
Eyes met his. Some avoided him. Others locked onto him.
But they all thought the same thing:
'He doesn't belong here.'
Still, he kept walking.
Step by step, deeper into Ashveil. Closer to danger.
He walked with his hands in his pockets, head slightly lowered. Wearing a branded tracksuit. Clean. Untouched.
Almost provocative.
In a place where everything was dirty… he looked like a mistake.
And mistakes… didn't last long in Ashveil.
People slowed down. Watching.
Someone had already marked him.
Footsteps began to emerge behind him.
Silent… but not enough.
A shadow stretched across the ground, closing in.
Ahead, a building stood out.
Clean. Restored. Imposing.
DaBra's territory. Leader of the Sains.
The young man didn't slow down.
The shadow got closer. And with it, a military knife appeared.
The strike was prepared—no one intervened.
The boy was about to be killed in broad daylight, for no apparent reason. Just for stepping into a place where he didn't belong.
Here… that was normal.
The blade moved toward the young man's head.
But—
at the exact moment, with an almost imperceptible motion, he ducked.
The attacker didn't hesitate. He rotated the knife, reversing the strike—faster, more aggressive.
Another attempt.
Missed again.
The young man had dodged once more.
He slightly turned his body and grabbed the attacker's arm.
Then, in one fluid motion—
he flipped over it.
Strength. Technique. Absurd precision.
Time seemed to slow.
The thug looked at the boy… who returned the gaze.
The young man's eyes locked onto him.
A deep, threatening stare.
Fear surged through his body like an electric shock.
His mind… shut down.
Empty. No time to react—not even to scream.
His body began to darken.
First the skin, then the flesh… then everything.
As if he were burning… from the inside out.
In seconds, he became charcoal.
Ashen white and gray. Brittle.
The wind blew.
And the body… crumbled.
Ashes—like a cremation—leaving only the forearm.
Still held in the young man's grip.
He glanced at it, emotionless, and tossed it to the ground.
Sliding toward the feet of the remaining gang members.
No one moved. No one breathed.
He lifted his head slightly. His eyes scanned the group.
As if he already owned the place.
Then he spoke:
"Where's your boss? I want to run this territory."
…
Upper District, Kalyven
After putting some distance between themselves and Mikena's soldiers, Haneul and Byeol approached Upper District —a busier area where blending into the crowd would be easier, buying them time to think of a strategy.
There were several obstacles along the way, until they finally reached the exit from the narrow streets into a main road.
"Byeol, watch out!"
"Ah!" —Byeol collided with someone. A girl.
For a moment, time seemed to stop.
'What the hell was that? Is she okay?' Byeol thought.
'Who is this guy? What terrible timing…' she thought.
Face to face. Eyes locked.
'Wow…'
Byeol froze.
Stunned.