The towering gates of the Graves Safe Zone loomed ahead, reinforced with heavy steel plating. Guards patrolled the walls, eyes sharp as they watched the approaching vehicle. Thomas cracked his knuckles as he drove the hammer truck closer. It was their mobile safe zone, and since no one would watch it inside the city, he had decided to bring it along to the meeting point.
Iris and Nevin had already gone ahead, escorting the rescued Orphans into the city. Thomas pulled the truck to a stop not far at the gate, with Bryan sitting beside him.
Thomas stretched his arms and let out a sigh. "Finally, a proper place to rest. More importantly, food."
Before they could move, a figure stepped into their path.
Dante Valen Graves, leader of the City of Graves.
His coat barely stirred in the wind, but the weight of his presence was undeniable. This wasn't some guard following orders. This was the man who ruled the City of Graves. And right now, he looked like he wanted to tear someone apart. His gray eyes locked on Thomas, cold and steady.
"Don't even try it," Dante said. "Being rank 1 doesn't give you the right to do whatever you want. You're not coming in."
Thomas blinked. "Why?"
Dante's jaw tightened. "Because you wrecked my business."
Thomas scratched his head. "Wait... do you own a butcher shop?"
Not far away, Nevin paused before entering the gate and quickly opened his interface. Thomas was indeed ranked number 1 now. Maybe the system updated when he reached Stage 2. They hadn't checked in a while since the rankings didn't offer any benefits aside from bragging rights. Scanning the list, Nevin saw familiar names, the Hayashi twins, and one he didn't recognize, then stopped at rank five. Dante Graves.
Now it made sense. The man who owned this city was one of the top five Glints.
Bryan crossed his arms and glanced at Thomas. "Thomas, that's really the Dante we know. The company president's son." He paused, then added, "And the businesses he's talking about, he means everything you destroyed in Graves City. The bounty hunters, those slavers, the underground trade network. He's the one who lets all that operate under his watch."
"Oh, that," Thomas said with a shrug.
Dante's fingers curled into a fist. "You have no idea what you've done. Those businesses keep this city running. And now, you've thrown everything into chaos."
Thomas wasn't really listening. He kept staring over Dante's shoulder at a food stall inside the gate, his stomach growling.
Dante exhaled sharply. He had spent months keeping order in this city, making sure the right people held power and the streets ran his way. Then Thomas tore through it all in a single day. Now the man stood before him as if none of it mattered.
"You think you can do as you please in my city?" Dante said, his voice low and controlled. "I should kill you right here."
From the gates of the safe zone, Iris stepped forward with her arms crossed. "So that's how you run your city? Killing people at the gates?"
Dante turned at the sound of a familiar voice, and for the first time in a long time, he really saw her. Iris.
His focus broke. For a moment, everything else faded away.
She was still the Iris he remembered, but something in her had changed. The shy, gentle girl he once knew was gone. The woman standing before him was confident, composed, and unafraid to speak her mind. That alone told him how much she had grown.
When he was abroad studying, Iris's scandal hit. The media tore her apart, and the rising star everyone once admired fell hard. He heard the news too late, and by the time he returned to defend her, she and her family were gone. He tried to bury the rumors, the lies about her being tied to drugs, but it was already too late. Her name was already ruined.
And now, she stood here again, alive and unshaken.
His hand twitched, but before he could speak, she did.
"...Dante."
No warmth. No smile. Just distance.
Once, there had been something between them, small and unspoken but real. A connection built on quiet glances and moments that never had the chance to grow. But that was before everything fell apart, before she disappeared, before time turned them into strangers.
Looking at her now, he knew it was gone. Whatever spark once existed was no longer there.
And that hurt more than he expected.
Then his eyes shifted to Thomas, and the irritation came rushing back.
Why was she defending him?
He pushed the thought aside. He had a point to make.
"Fine." Dante rolled his shoulders, his tone hardening. "If you want in, prove your worth."
Thomas yawned. "That sounds like work."
Dante ignored him and stepped toward the edge of the fog. The pink mist curled around his boots and climbed up his arms. He let it sink in, steady and calm. Ten seconds was all he needed.
His Glint form, Blood Revenant, awakened. His veins darkened and began to glow faintly red, as if his blood itself was alive. His breathing slowed, muscles tightening as power coursed through him. Every heartbeat made him stronger, faster, sharper. The longer he fought, the more unstoppable he became.
Iris's eyes widened slightly, her composure breaking for just a moment. "That was fast," she muttered.
Beside Thomas, Bryan leaned forward with interest. "So he's like Thomas, almost no delay at all?" he said, rubbing his chin.
It wasn't normal. Most Glint users needed time to adapt before their power settled.
Dante stepped onto a broken bench near the entrance, what used to be a bus stop. From the higher ground, his transformed presence spread across the area, forcing everyone to feel it. His aura pulsed red as he stared down at Thomas. "Still want in?"
Thomas tilted his head. "You got taller."
Dante's smirk twitched. "That's not the point."
The crowd murmured as the air thickened. Dante's presence had changed completely. It was heavier, sharper, enough to make even the guards shift uneasily.
Dante stepped forward, his voice firm. "Let's fight. If you win, I'll let you in."
Thomas pushed open the door of the hammer truck and stepped out as the Pink Fog curled around him. The moment his boots touched the ground, his Glint form awakened. His body expanded, muscles tightening under dark gray, stone-like skin. Glowing purple lines spread across his body, while pink runes rose from his flesh like scars. Two horns pushed from his forehead, and his red eyes lit up through the mist. A visible aura surrounded him, rippling through the fog like heat. It was the mark of a Stage 2 Glint, raw and overwhelming. The pressure in the air made the onlookers flinch, their instincts warning them that the power coming from him was real.
Without a hint of hesitation, Thomas walked straight toward Dante, who was still standing on the broken bench, soaking in the crowd's attention. Thomas stopped in front of him, studying him for a moment. Dante froze, stunned by how quickly Thomas had transformed. For a brief second, he just stared, unable to process what he was seeing.
Then the bench shifted. Thomas had already grabbed it, Dante included, and lifted it off the ground. The sudden motion jolted Dante out of his daze as the crowd gasped in disbelief.
The move was so effortless that silence filled the area. Then came a snicker. Then laughter.
Dante barely landed on his feet as Thomas lifted the bench, stumbling before he regained his balance. His jaw tightened, and his red aura flared violently.
The crowd wasn't impressed anymore. They were entertained.
Iris rubbed her temples. "Here we go again."
Bryan sighed. "You never change, Thomas."
Thomas grinned. "You can't show off if you're standing so low. I was just helping him get a better view."
Dante's voice was low, every word sharp. "Put. Me. Down."
Thomas shrugged and dropped the bench with a loud thud. Dante steadied himself, but a few chuckles slipped out from the crowd.
This was supposed to be Dante's moment, a show of power and authority. He was the one who built this city, the one who controlled it.
And yet.
Thomas stretched his arms and looked up at the sky. "The sun's already up. Feels like breakfast time."
The tension hung in the air. Dante's aura burned hotter, but Thomas had already lost interest.
Bryan leaned against the truck. "You really can't help yourself, can you?"
Thomas smirked. "What? He was standing on a bench. It looked weird."
Dante clenched his fists, rage burning behind his eyes. This was supposed to be his display of strength. Instead, Thomas had turned it into a joke.
But before he could say anything, the laughter around them died down. Murmurs spread through the crowd as everyone's attention shifted toward the gate.
A line of people was marching toward the fog. They moved in perfect sync, one step at a time, silent and expressionless. Some wore rags, others old uniforms, their clothes hanging loose on thin frames. Their eyes were blank, their faces empty, as if they weren't really there.
No one spoke. No one dared to.
Even Thomas stopped smiling.