"Who are you, kid?"
The dark man in the half-mask spoke, his voice sharp—almost metallic.
"How dare you interfere in this execution? Are you affiliated with them?"
Ren swallowed.
'Who are they? Were they really going to kill this kid?
Why?'
The kid gripped Ren's pants, his hands trembling with fear.
Just then, the lady who had been on the phone ran toward the child, shouting:
"Tev! Tev! Oh my god, are you okay?"
The boy turned and ran into her arms.
"Mom!"
She dropped to her knees, clutching him tightly, her hands running over his body to check for injuries—then pulled him into a fierce hug, trembling.
'Ah… so that's the mom?'
Ren turned back to look at the two men.
The one in the half-mask took a slow step forward—then another—before drawing two stiletto daggers from under his coat.
People in the park began to pull away. Some clutched their children and retreated, eyes wide with fear. Others lingered at the edges, watching in hushed tension. Murmurs spread like ripples. The air thickened with unease.
The woman clutched her son tighter, pleading—her voice rising, raw and desperate, loud enough to carry across the park.
"Please, I beg you—spare us. We don't even know what my husband's been doing. We haven't seen him in weeks, I swear. Please…" Her voice cracked. "Please… you have to believe me."
Tears streamed down her face.
The man in the white mask—its forehead etched in red with the word Despair—stood motionless, tilting his head in eerie mockery.
Ren could feel sweat trickle down his back. He didn't feel fear exactly—but his instincts screamed. He stood still, watching—trying to piece together what was happening… and whether he'd survive if he chose to run.
The half-masked man spun the daggers in his hands with a casual flick, then kept walking forward.
"Icarus has been declared Null," he said, voice low and cold. "All who carry his scent must be cleansed."
He raised one blade slightly—just enough for the steel to catch the light—then took another step.
That was when the woman snapped.
"Don't come any closer! I won't let you harm my son! Stay away from us!" she yelled. Her Vira flared—visible now, a ripple in the air around her.
'What the heck is going on? Should I even be here?'
Ren took a few careful steps back—away from both the woman and her kid, and from the dagger-wielding man steadily approaching. He could feel it now. The woman's Vira was more potent than his—almost on par with the man with the locs.
The last thing he wanted was to be caught in the middle of whatever this was.
Then something changed.
The air shifted—subtle at first, then suddenly wrong. Dense. Heavy, like a storm pressing down on his skin.
Ren turned around.
He saw the woman cover her son's ears, palms pressed firm against the sides of his head.
The man with the daggers seemed to notice too. His muscles tensed, ready to strike—
But before he could move, the woman spoke.
Her voice—wrong. Not hers anymore.
"KNEEL."
"Ahh—!" Ren cried out as he collapsed onto his hands and knees. His limbs went numb, trembling under him. Then he dropped completely—flat against the ground.
He couldn't feel himself.
'What the… what just happened? Why… why can't I move…?'
His thoughts broke apart. The world felt like it was spinning.
Everything was blurry. His mind scrambled—no clear thoughts, just static. He tried to lift his head.
The man with the daggers had fallen to one knee.
But the man in the Despair mask… stood completely still. Unfazed.
Ren groaned.
With his moisture sense still active when the woman spoke, it felt like hell.
Not just pressure—vibration. Sound waves like blades, tearing through his skull, scrambling his balance, distorting his thoughts.
Something twisted deep inside his head. His ears rang—then bled.
Then, just as suddenly as it began, the pressure vanished.
Gone—like whatever had warped the air and robbed them of balance and sensation had been severed midstream.
Ren gasped. He could feel his body again.
Slowly, trembling, he tried to stand—but his limbs were weak. He turned to look at the woman.
And froze.
His eyes widened.
A massive sword had pierced straight through her back.
She dropped to her knees, blood spilling from her mouth in thick, bubbling streams. She choked, gagged—her fingers twitching, weakly reaching for the blade now jutting from her chest.
Ren, still disoriented, turned to the man with the locs—who was just now climbing to his feet as well.
And then Ren understood.
One of them—right after the woman unleashed her power—must've remotely called the sword that had been lodged in the tree behind her. It struck from behind, piercing clean through and breaking the hold she had on them.
"Mom!!!"
The young boy screamed, clutching her as she knelt—still gripping the sword in her chest.
Just then, the man in the half-mask snarled—
"Aisshh… Fuck you, bitch."
His voice was low and ragged now, crackling with fury.
He lunged forward—And with a single, brutal motion, drove a dagger through the side of her neck, angling it up through her skull.
The woman collapsed instantly, lifeless.
"How dare you."
He kicked her corpse. Her body—still kneeling—toppled backward and hit the dirt with a sickening thud.
He turned slowly.
The boy had fallen, but was now trying to crawl backward, shaking in terror.
The man tilted his head. His eyes burned with rage, blood still trickling from his own ears.
Without hesitation, he flung the second dagger.
It struck the boy straight through the heart.
The child collapsed. Dead.
Ren stared, horror-struck.
"What?… What the… what the fuck is happening?"
He finally pushed to his feet, staggering. The disorientation still clung to him like fog, but he forced himself upright.
His eyes fell on the woman, lying motionless on the ground. Then to the boy beside her—a dagger buried in his small chest.
'He killed them…
Why?'
He squinted, trying to make sense of it all—trying to breathe.
Then—
"As for you…"
The man in the half-mask turned toward him.
Ren blinked, heart kicking.
"Huh? Me? What do you mean—me?"
Ren asked, voice cracking.
The man didn't answer.
He crouched—then lunged at Ren in a blur.
Ren didn't even see him move.
One moment, he was there—
The next, he wasn't.
The air shifted. Pressure snapped in around him.
Ren felt it—tried to turn—
But the man was already on him.
A sharp kick slammed into Ren's temple, sending him hurtling like a ragdoll into a tree.
Pain.
His ears rang. His vision blurred.
Then—
Crack.
A second kick—this time to his chest.
Ren gasped. A broken wheeze escaped him. Something inside had definitely cracked—he could feel it. The pain was unbearable.
He didn't understand.
Why was this man attacking him?
What the hell was happening?
Then a bitter truth struck him, forcing his eyes wide.
He was going to die. This man was going to kill him—no doubt.
Suddenly, a rough palm clamped over his face. Yanked it back.
Then—smash—his skull slammed into the bark behind him.
Something cracked. Light burst behind his eyes. His vision scattered, then bled into darkness at the edges.
Blood trickled down his scalp, warm and sticky. Pain came in waves—sharp, cold, blinding—until even that began to fade into a distant throb.
Ren couldn't scream. His jaw wouldn't move. His limbs felt detached, like they belonged to someone else.
His body was broken.
There was no escape.
So he stopped trying.
He gave up.
The man yanked Ren's head back again—ready to finish him.
But before the final blow could land—
A blur. A streak of black.
CRACK.
A knee crashed into the masked man's temple, sending him flying sideways into the pavement at the park's edge.
"What the—"
He tried to rise, dazed. But someone was already on him.
A woman. Dark hair. Pale skin. Dressed in black. Her mist-gray eyes glinted with something cold and silent behind her glasses.
Without hesitation, she seized his locs and slammed his head into the concrete.
"One."
Before he could react—
She yanked it back again. Slammed it down harder.
"Two."
The man let out a wet, broken squeal. Blood smeared across the ground, mixing with fragments of his shattered half-mask and the scattered teeth that had fallen from his mouth.
"You hit him three times," she muttered—then slammed his head down a final time.
"Three."
The man went limp.
Aika stood, tilted her head back, and let out a long, tired sigh.
"Ah… what a pain."