Alex sprinted across the rain-slick rooftops, his breath ragged, chest burning from the effort.
"Shit. Shit. Shit!"
Each word was gasped between frantic breaths as he leapt from one rooftop to another, barely pausing to check behind him. Every glance over his shoulder brought fresh panic.
Was Ethan chasing him?
No... not yet.
He landed hard on the edge of another rooftop and rolled behind a concrete outcrop, pressing his back against the cool surface. His heart pounded in his ears, and his muscles trembled. He peeked again.
Nothing.
No flicker of lightning. No cold, emotionless eyes. Just empty air.
Alex exhaled sharply, collapsing against the wall.
"Hah… I lost him…" he muttered to himself, more to stay sane than anything else. "He's probably still dealing with Emily. He might still be under the effects of the Drug... yeah… yeah…"
That lie steadied him. Just enough to keep from falling apart.
But then—
He felt it.
A warm breath. On his neck.
His eyes widened. His spine stiffened.
Slowly, chanically, Alex turned his head—and scread.
Standing inches from him was a white wolf, its golden horn gleaming like a crown, deep golden eyes locked onto him like a predator sizing up prey. Around it, lightning arced through the air in soft crackles of raw power.
"S-Stay back!!" Alex shrieked, instantly activating his Camouflage, his body rippling and vanishing from sight.
But Gray didn't move.
He didn't need to.
The wolf howled, a haunting, thunderous sound that echoed through the night as Predator's Might activated—a paralyzing aura of absolute dominance.
Alex's body froze in mid-run, his invisibility shattered as if it never existed. Muscles locked. Breath caught in his throat.
He couldn't even scream.
Then—
Thud.
From above, Ethan landed silently on the rooftop behind Gray, the crackle of lightning briefly illuminating his dark silhouette. He walked calmly to Gray's side, placing a hand on the wolf's head.
"Good job, Gray," he said, a whisper of cold praise.
Gray let out a soft yelp, satisfied, basking in his master's acknowledgnt.
Ethan stepped forward, eyes on the frozen Alex.
Then—
SLAP.
A brutal backhand knocked Alex to the ground, breaking the paralysis.
His body hit the rooftop hard, the impact jarring his senses. He gasped for air, instinctually trying to crawl away.
But Ethan was already muttering, almost too soft to hear.
"Abyss."
And in that mont, everything changed.
The light in the world dimd. The air thickened. A black mist began curling from Ethan's body, tendrils of shadow that coiled hungrily, like sothing ancient had been stirred from slumber.
****
"Abyss."
That was the last thing Alex heard.
And then—the world shattered.
Instantly, reality peeled away, and Alex felt himself falling—not physically, but deeper, as if being dragged downward through existence itself.
The air was gone. The light was gone.
He couldn't breathe.
He clawed at nothing, panic flooding his senses, until—
Thud.
He landed, gasping, on an impossible black surface, flat and glassy like polished void. He lay there choking, gulping in air like a drowning man who had breached the surface.
The silence was deafening, but at least he could breathe again.
At least… for now.
When his ragged breath began to steady, he lifted his head—and froze.
Before him, five colossal pillars rose from the darkness, stretching up into a void with no ceiling. They pulsed with a presence so ancient, so vast, that it made his bones tremble.
But as he stared, horror blood in his chest.
Those weren't pillars.
They were fingers.
Each one incomprehensibly massive, each one shifting slightly, as though rely waiting. There was no end to them, no full shape to understand—only the unmistakable sensation of being beneath sothing that should not exist.
"No… no no no…"
A primal fear erupted in his soul, more ancient than thought, as he turned and sprinted across the abyssal floor.
But there was no escape. No edge. No light. No hope.
The fingers began to move—slowly, inevitably—closing in.
The space warped.
The dark twisted.
And Alex scread—a raw, animal scream—as the titanic hand sealed him inside, the darkness smothering sound, sight, self and leaving only Silence.
---
Back in the Real World
Alex's body lay sprawled across the rooftop, limbs limp, mouth frozen open in a final, silent scream. His eyes stared blankly at the sky, glassy and lifeless.
Whatever had once been inside him was gone.
Utterly erased.
His soul had been devoured by the Abyss, leaving only a hollow shell behind.
Standing over him, Ethan's cold gaze lingered for a mont. He whispered:
"I have avenged you."
Not for Alex.
But for the Ethan that once existed. The one who had been manipulated, humiliated, and discarded like trash.
The one who died so this one could rise.
Ethan turned away. Gray, his loyal wolf, shimred into radiant motes of light, which flowed into his body, fusing with him.
And in the next instant, Ethan vanished in a crackle of lightning—leaving nothing behind but an empty corpse lying beneath a cold, indifferent sky.
****
In the soft golden glow of the kitchen lights, Lisa Cross humd a gentle tune, the lody floating through the halls of the estate like a lullaby warding off the outside world.
Her raven hair was tied neatly into a bun, and she wore a simple apron dusted with flour and bits of seasoning as she worked over the countertop, slicing at with fluid precision.
The knife in her hand glead faintly—slick with blood, but only from the raw cuts she was preparing for dinner.
The house was quiet, save for the bubbling from a pot and the rhythmic tap-tap of her knife on the cutting board.
Then—
Click.
The front door opened with a soft creak, followed by the sound of it closing gently.
Ethan stepped inside.
He stood there in the hallway, lingering with one hand still on the doorknob. His shoulders were tense, his expression unreadable as he braced himself—expecting a scolding, maybe even a thrown utensil.
Lisa's presence was imdiate.
She stepped out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel, the knife still in her grip. Her sharp eyes found him instantly, and for a mont, she said nothing.
Their resemblance was striking.
Sa eyes. Sa jawline. Sa aura—though hers lacked the storm and power behind his.
Ethan gulped when he saw the knife still in her hand.
"...Hey," he said, voice cautious.
Lisa just stared at him.
For a few long seconds, the air was thick with silent tension.
Then—
She sighed.
"Welco back," she said simply. "Dinner'll be ready soon, so go clean up."
Ethan blinked. He hesitated, then raised a brow.
"Wait… you're not mad?"
Lisa rolled her eyes as she turned back toward the kitchen.
"Well, if my superhero of a big brother is gonna vanish and co back whenever he wants, I have to learn how to get used to it," she said, almost too casually. "Now hurry up go shower if not you won't be getting any food."
Ethan's mouth opened as if to explain himself, then stopped. A grin tugged at the corner of his lips.
"Yes, ma'am."
As he passed her, he reached out and ruffled her hair.
"Thanks, Lisa. You're the best."
Lisa scoffed but didn't resist the touch.
"Obviously."
Ethan chuckled and disappeared down the hallway toward his room, his footsteps lighter than before.
Back in the kitchen, Lisa paused for a mont, her eyes softening.
She shook her head, exasperated.
"Idiot," she murmured affectionately.
Then she turned back to her work, humming once more—as if the outside world didn't matter, so long as her brother ca ho safe.
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