The Mindless, mid-rampage, stopped abruptly—its twisted face contorting, as if sensing something far more dangerous than itself.
Blake (nervously):"Who... who is that?"
Evening had fallen over the shattered heart of Berlin.
The once-vibrant city Centre stood in eerie silence, bathed in the flicker of distant fires and the dull pulse of emergency lights. The streets were broken, scattered with debris and the remnants of chaos. Soldiers stood guard at the edge of a containment zone, weapons raised, nerves on edge.
Soldier 1:"Stop! You're entering a containment zone."
The cloaked man didn't slow. He walked forward, silent and unwavering, ignoring the shouted warnings from the soldiers blocking his path.
One of them panicked. A shot rang out.
The bullet tore through the air—then suddenly slowed, suspended in motion, as if time itself had caught it by the throat. It hovered for a breathless second before detonating mid-air with a sharp, concussive burst of light and force.
A sudden ripple of force shattered the silence.
The Mindless creature unleashed a telekinetic blast, a wave of invisible power tearing through the air with reckless, violent fury. The very ground quaked beneath its force—but the cloaked man didn't flinch. In one fluid motion, he pivoted, smooth and silent—a ghost in motion—gliding effortlessly past the blast.
Then, he vanishes.
Mid-stride, his form flickers and dissolves in nothing. A heartbeat later, he reappears --right beside the Mindless, his presence sudden and chilling. Without removing the hand casually resting in his coat pocket, he slams the creature's head into the ground. The impact cracks the earth beneath them.
The mindless writhes, stunned, but he doesn't pause.
With an eerie calm, he grips the creature by the jaws, one hand still pocketed, the other tightening with impossible strength. His eyes remain unreadable as he rises into the air, lifting the thrashing being with him, higher and higher, as though gravity itself dares not interfere.
Mindless (gurgling):"who! who! Plea… please!"
Cloaked Man (coldly):"So you can talk?"
The sky splits with sound.
A thunderous whup-whup-whup cuts through the silence as a news helicopter breaks through the cloud cover, rotors churning the night. Its searchlight finds them instantly. The man and the creature, suspended mid-air like a scene torn from myth.
The light slams into his face.
For a moment, everything else fades, the chaos, the wind, the noise. His expression is still, eerily composed, the light carving sharp lines across his features. The mindless thrashes violently in his grip, but he doesn't budge.
Below, news anchors stammers on live feeds. Spectators on the ground freezes, faces lit by phone screens, all turned skyward. The world watches, transfixed by the ghostly figure hovering in the air --coat flapping, one hand holding the monster at bay.
In one fluid motion, faster than thought, quicker than death. His hand emerged from the shadowed depth of his pocket. No hesitation. No mercy. The world slowed to a crawl as his fingers found their mark.
CRACK.
The sound echoed like thunder breaking against stone. The mindless head separated from its vessel with sickening ease, torn away as if it were nothing more than a rotted fruit from a dying branch. For a heartbeat, the severed head hung suspended in the crimson-stained air, eyes still blinking with the last sparks of whatever consciousness had remained.
Then came the rain.
Blood cascading thick, viscous torrents --not the gentle patter of spring showers, but a flood of red that painted the earth in violent strokes. Each drop caught the dying light like rubies falling from heaven womb.
The man hovered in the air, suspended between earth and sky like some vengeful divine being surveying the aftermath of his judgment. His clothes were soaked in blood, hanging heavy against his frame, yet his face remained untouched—serene, composed, utterly unreadable.
Below him, the body swayed—headless, hollow—until gravity finally reclaimed it.
BOOM.
The ground exploded outward in concentric rings of devastation. Dust and debris erupted skyward in a perfect circle, the shockwave rippled through stone and soil, sending tremors racing across the landscape like the heartbeat of some awakening giant. The silence afterward was deeper than before.
The cloaked man still floats in mid-air, blood dripping from his hands. Below him, the lifeless body lies twisted on the cracked ground. Suddenly, the corpse beneath him began to glow.
A bright blue-white light bled from the body, spreading across the ruined flesh like liquid fire. It pulsed with unnatural energy, radiating outward in soft, rhythmic waves—as if the body still held some twisted remnant of life.
Cloaked man (confused, looking down):"What...?"
The light grows brighter. It pulses around the corpse, getting more intense.
The cloaked man's eyes widened, his calm demeanor cracking for the first time. He stared down at the glowing body, confusion flickering across his face. Whatever was happening—it defied even his understanding.
BOOM!
He drops from the sky, landing hard beside the body. The impact shakes the ground. He stands slowly, staring at the fading light around the body.
Cloaked man (whisper):"You don't see that every day."
The light flickers once... Twice...
Then disappears completely. Silence. The man turns toward the camera. His face is calm but different now. A glowing white crown mark appears on his skin. It burns bright like a brand.
His iris flashes pure white. They glow with cold fire.