(Final chapter of Volume 1: Threads of Fate)
The street was silent.
Only the sound of rain filled the air — until it didn't.
Kaizen's breath trembled as he knelt beside Manajit's body.
Lyra's voice cracked. "Kaizen… we need to go. We—"
He looked up. The raindrops —
were hanging midair.
Frozen. Suspended like glass beads in the dark.
Lyra's eyes widened. "W-what's happening…?"
Kaizen rose slowly, scanning the dimly lit street.
The puddles were still, the air thick — like time itself had stopped breathing.
Then, from the far corner of the alley, footsteps.
Slow. Calm. Certain.
A man emerged from the shadow.
Tall. Black coat. Gloves.
His face completely hidden behind a mask — only his eyes, sharp and unblinking, glowed faintly red in the dark.
Kaizen took a step forward, shielding Lyra behind him.
"Who are you?"
The man tilted his head, silent.
Kaizen clenched his fist. "You killed my friend…"
He exhaled deeply, eyes narrowing. "If you're here for me — fine. But she's not part of this."
"Kaizen—" Lyra's voice shook.
He glanced back, forcing a small smile.
"Run. Don't look back."
"Kaizen, no—"
"Now!"
Lyra hesitated for only a second before turning and running into the shadows — her footsteps echoing down the street.
Kaizen faced the masked man, his muscles tightening.
Rain still floated in the air around them, like time was trapped inside a photograph.
He reached into his coat pocket.
His fingers brushed against a sharp pencil — the one he always carried.
He gripped it tight.
The man moved first — swift, silent.
Kaizen ducked, sidestepped, slashed the pencil across the man's arm.
Blood spattered. The man staggered back slightly.
Kaizen's eyes narrowed. "You bleed. That's enough for me."
They clashed again — fists, knees, strikes echoing in the still world.
Kaizen's movements were precise, honed from years of restless nights and street fights before fame found him.
For a moment, he thought — maybe he could win.
Then—
BANG!
Another gunshot.
Lyra's scream cut through the silence.
Kaizen turned instantly.
At the edge of the alley — Lyra collapsed.
A second figure stood on a rooftop, rifle glinting in the dim light.
Kaizen's chest went cold.
"Lyra—!"
He took a step toward her — but a punch caught his face, slamming him into the wall.
Something inside him snapped.
His pupils flared — red.
Time seemed to twist.
For a heartbeat, Kaizen saw flashes — a reflection of himself, blood-soaked, laughing in another world.
Then fury consumed him.
He drove his pencil into the man's shoulder, twisted it hard, and slammed him down.
The masked man growled, clutching the wound — but didn't fall.
"Who… are you!?" Kaizen yelled.
The man didn't answer.
Only raised his gun.
BANG!
The bullet tore through Kaizen's chest.
He gasped, stumbling back, blood seeping through his shirt.
He fell to his knees, vision blurring.
Rain started to fall again, slowly at first — as if time began moving once more.
The masked man walked closer, calm, deliberate.
Kaizen lifted his head weakly — his face half-covered in blood, eyes burning red.
The man stopped in front of him.
And then — softly, like an echo from a dream — he spoke.
"Long time no see."
Kaizen's breath hitched.
The voice — it was his own.
The man smiled beneath the mask.
BANG.
The final bullet pierced Kaizen's forehead.
He fell backward, his last sight — the rain falling again, and the stranger's faint smile fading into the night.
End of Volume 1 — Threads of Fate