The group froze.
No one breathed. No one dared.
The creature—no, the thing—was horrifyingly large, a malformed echo of a wolf, only far, far worse. Its frame mimicked the structure of a beast, but everything else about it betrayed death. Flesh hung from its bones in shredded ribbons. Hollow eyes watched without blinking. The stench of rotting blood clung to its fur like rot to a corpse. It looked less like something born of nature and more like something rejected by it.
Kealix stared.
His mind screamed at him to move—I have to move. Now. But his body betrayed him, locked in place as if his muscles had turned to stone. He was frozen. Not with cold—but with terror. A kind of terror that gnawed at the soul.
This isn't a beast, he realized. Calling it that is an insult to beasts. This... this is a monster in its purest form.
"Dammit," he thought. "Why won't my body move?"
[Focus, young master! Keep your composure. If you fail now, everyone here will die!]
Hero's voice burst through the fog like a lance of clarity.
But Kealix couldn't answer. Couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. He stood there like a puppet with its strings cut, hypnotized by the creature's dreadful presence. Around him, the others remained equally paralyzed, the air so thick with fear it felt like breathing ash.
Then the thing opened its mouth.
Not quickly. Not hungrily. But slowly—deliberately. As if savoring the moment.
A chill ran down Kealix's spine.
Is it… is it getting ready to eat us?
From its maw, cries spilled out—not its own, but the wails of countless others. Human. Animal. Spirit. The voices of the fallen, their agony still echoing from whatever fate they had suffered inside the beast.
Each scream tore through Kealix's mind, clawing at the edges of sanity. These were no illusions. No tricks. These were real—they were real—and they had been consumed.
The monster's gaping jaws approached. Two meters away. The final stretch. The end.
And then—
"*What the hell are you doing? Move—*NOW!"
Nox's voice pierced through the storm like lightning. His tone was desperate, frantic—terrified not for himself, but for Kealix.
It jolted something inside him. A flicker of awareness. A fragment of control.
Then, Hero's voice returned.
[You truly are hopeless, young master,] he said. And sighed.
And with that…
Time stopped.
Not slowed. Not dragged. Stopped.
The sound vanished. The air itself seemed to fall still, as if the world had paused just before the end.
And in that silence, a new voice emerged.
[Well, well… young Kealix. We meet at last.]
The voice was foreign—rough, gravelly, like it had been scraped raw across a thousand years of torment. It wasn't Hero. It wasn't Nox. It was something else.
But Kealix could barely comprehend it. His thoughts were tangled, sluggish. He couldn't think straight.
[You really fucked up, didn't you, Kealix?]
The voice again. Dry. Almost amused.
[Suspense!] another voice interjected—this one soft, maternal. [The child's still in shock. Be kind.]
[Let's give him time to take this in,] Hero added, his tone returning with a gentler edge.
Kealix stood in silence, slowly processing what had just happened.
What… what was this?
"What happened?" he asked at last. His voice echoed strangely in this unmoving world.
[Ah, so you're finally awake.]
The rough voice returned, a little more focused now.
[My name's Suspense. What you're experiencing right now is my ability. It stops time for everyone but you. But before you get any ideas—]
A pause, almost smug.
[You can only think in this state. You can't move. You're not some time god.]
Kealix blinked. Slowly, things started to click into place.
"So… I can strategize? While everything else is frozen?"
[Exactly,] Suspense replied, and Kealix could practically feel his grin.
[One shot. One brain. Make it count.]
[Young master, though you didn't notice, coming into contact with that beast allowed our powers to fully awaken,] Hero said at last, his voice tinged with relief.
[Now, we'll be able to assist you properly.]
Kealix stood motionless within the frozen world, the weight of what he'd just heard pressing down on his shoulders. A flicker of hope lit up in the darkness, but it was fleeting.
[Betrayal is your best option for dealing any form of damage to the creature. Paired with me, you might actually stand a chance,] Hero continued, his tone now calm and instructive.
[Nurturer can heal you from nearly any injury. Fool and End can shield you from attacks. But remember, only two of us can be active at once. You'll have to choose carefully.]
Kealix swallowed hard. The clarity of their voices cut through the chaos like blades, but even with their guidance, doubt twisted in his chest.
"What about the Awakening?" he asked.
Silence fell.
Not the kind of silence that came from a lack of sound—but the kind that weighed. The kind that pressed down on the world like a warning. The voices were gone for a moment, like they'd recoiled.
Then, one spoke.
[Because Awakening is a selfish bastard, that's why,] the voice rasped. It sounded old—ancient, even—withered by time and utterly drained of hope.
[He only helps when it serves him.]
[Betrayal! Awakening is not to be spoken of like that,] Hero interjected sharply, his tone disapproving.
A pause.
Kealix could feel it—an argument playing out in silence, tense and personal. Though he couldn't see their faces, he imagined the stare-down, the bitter looks, the barely withheld contempt. And through it all, he remained frozen, staring into the gaping mouth of the monster before him. It was still open, still full of those unearthly screams, still ready to end him the second time resumed.
What a terrible sight, Kealix thought. A death trap carved into flesh.
Eventually, the voices resumed. They argued. Strategized. Debated. For what felt like hours.
In the end, they settled on a simple, if desperate, plan:
Evade the creature. Learn its capabilities. Then, if the opportunity presents itself—destroy its remaining eye. Blind it. Turn the fear back on it.
[Young master,] Hero said softly, [before we continue, I need you to know—the other young ones behind you, they're running toward you. They're trying to save you from the beast's jaws.]
[Also remember: each of us—each Card—has an activation requirement. Choose wisely. Survive.]
Kealix exhaled, slow and steady. Something cold, something resolute, settled in his chest.
"Thank you, Hero. I won't let them die."
A pause. His gaze hardened.
"If they do… then I'll be the first to go."
He turned inward.
"Suspense," he said. "Disable your ability."
And just like that—time resumed.
The world jolted back to motion. Sound roared into his ears. The monster's mouth, vast and dreadful, lunged forward once again, its fangs inches from closing around him.
And then—
Light exploded.
A golden spear erupted from the earth—no, from Kealix himself—forged from Hero's power, radiant and blinding. It struck the creature's maw just as it tried to clamp down.
CRACK.
The monster's jaws collided with the spear. The impact reverberated through the battlefield like a thunderclap. For a moment, the creature was stopped. Held back.
But only for a moment.
The golden light flickered. The spear cracked. The monster pushed forward, snarling, refusing to be denied.
The monster lunged.
Kealix's eyes widened as the gaping maw descended toward him, every detail of the beast's rotting fangs etched into his vision. Instinct screamed before thought could catch up. He threw himself backward just in time—but not far enough.
One of the jagged teeth scraped across his thigh.
A searing line of pain burst through his leg. Blood spilled in a sharp arc across the broken ground, bright red against the pale stone.
He gasped and collapsed to one knee.
His vision blurred for a split second—heat, pain, fear, all fighting for dominance in his mind. But another voice cut through the haze.
"Kealix!" Nox's voice, wild with panic. "Are you—?!"
Kealix tried to respond, but the words caught in his throat.
He stumbled back toward the others, breathing ragged. Nox rushed forward and grabbed his arm; Lucius grabbed the other. Together, they steadied him as the beast's next attack rumbled behind them like thunder.
Lucius's expression twisted into a mix of disbelief and rising dread. "Don't tell me…" he hissed. "You're actually planning to fight that thing?!"
Kealix didn't speak.
He didn't need to.
The moment his silence stretched, the others knew.
It was in his eyes.
A shift.
Conviction. Cold and burning all at once.
The Hero card, which had until then rested dormant in his pocket, began to glow. Slowly, almost reverently, it rose into the air on its own. The golden light it gave off was warm, but carried the sharp edge of something ancient—something divine.
The card hovered for a heartbeat beside him, then surged forward like a blade through water.
And sank into his chest.
The air around him trembled.
Golden strands of light spilled from his skin, tracing ancient runes along his arms. His black hair shimmered, gradually turning into a crown of blazing gold. Metallic gauntlets began to materialize on his arms—seamless, royal, humming with power. Their surface bore symbols none of them could read, but all of them felt.
A spear of pure golden energy took form in his hand.
Kealix exhaled slowly, the sound controlled—measured.
"Yes," he said at last, his voice calm, clear. "I am."
Lucius looked away, clenching his fists.
Nox let out a long sigh, running a hand through his ash-blonde hair. "You really don't know when to quit, do you?" His voice held no heat—just resignation, and something like admiration. "Fine. Just this once, I'll support your dumb decision."
A deep rumble echoed through the ground.
The beast—still looming, still impossibly massive—tilted its head toward the group. The last attack hadn't slowed it down in the slightest. Blood dripped from its fangs, yet its glowing eye fixated on them, unblinking. It stepped forward, cracking what little remained of the pavement beneath it.
They were running out of time.
Kealix didn't wait for another word.
"Scatter!" he shouted.
The group exploded into motion.
Each member sprinted in a different direction, diving into cover, climbing twisted debris, or vanishing into shadowed alleyways of the crumbling school grounds. Their movements were erratic and fast—meant to confuse the beast, to pull its attention away from Kealix.
From the heart of the storm.
Kealix ran.
His injured leg screamed in protest, but the adrenaline numbed it just enough. He vaulted over broken railings, ducked beneath fallen support beams, and moved with purpose through the fractured skeleton of what had once been a school.
The monster turned.
Its eye followed him.
Even with the others scattering, it knew who the true threat was.
Kealix darted to the right—then stopped.
His breath caught in his throat.
A gash.
Along the creature's side, half-hidden beneath matted fur and shifting bone, was a wound—fresh and pulsing. A gouge that looked like something had bitten it.
Kealix's thoughts raced. Another monster? A rival? A predator?
It didn't matter.
All that mattered was that it was still open.
Still bleeding.
A weakness.
He narrowed his eyes. His grip on the golden spear tightened.
"Seems like we're lucky in some ways after all…" he muttered to himself, though his voice lacked any real humor.
His heart was still pounding—but it beat in rhythm with the light in his chest now.
Hero's power surged through his veins, filling him with a steady warmth that kept the terror at bay. He felt it—like someone was standing behind him, watching over him.
Like he wasn't alone.
Behind him, he could hear the others calling, distracting the monster, buying time. Even Nox was shouting out taunts now, throwing rocks, casting weak spells—anything to pull its gaze away.
It was working.
Just enough.
Kealix lowered his stance, taking aim at the wound.
Then he whispered, barely audible over the roar of blood in his ears:
"For them… I can't miss."