Rick initiated the attack first. His figure blurred, cutting through the air as he sped toward the lizard. In one clean motion, he slashed at its paw, but the creature reacted instantly — its scaly hand elongated, sharp claws sprouting like daggers as it swung at him. Metal clashed against flesh. Rick's Quill sliced effortlessly through the lizard's claws, leaving a faint trail of dark mist in the air. The lizard yelped in fury, staggering back before lunging again, but Rick was already gone, his movements swift and unpredictable.
He pointed the Quill forward, eyes cold, and a concentrated beam of dark energy erupted from the tip. The blast struck the lizard square in the chest, forcing it back several steps. The air trembled from the impact. Rick's breathing was steady, but his heart pounded wildly. The Quill — a cursed weapon of immense power — pulsed faintly in his hand, as though alive.
If not for its side effect, the "Bloodlust," it would have been hailed as humanity's greatest creation. Yet most who used it turned into bloodthirsty monsters, unable to tell friend from foe. That's why it was banned — forbidden to even touch. And yet here Rick was, wielding it in defiance of every law, every warning, even his father's desperate pleas.
The lizard let out an ear-splitting roar, fury blazing in its reptilian eyes. It dropped to all fours and dashed forward with terrifying speed, its claws tearing through the ground as it moved like a true beast. Rick fired another dark beam, but the monster dodged with unnatural agility and lunged at him. He barely sidestepped in time, twisting his body and slashing across its scales. The blow landed, but before he could react, the creature's counterstrike connected — a powerful punch that sent Rick flying dozens of meters through the air.
He crashed hard, rolling along the broken street before managing to stop himself. Pain flared across his body, but a laugh escaped his lips. Whether it was the Quill's influence or his own madness, he couldn't tell anymore. "Heh… I might've overestimated that thing," he muttered, wiping the blood from his mouth. "Or maybe I've underestimated myself."
It had been so long since he'd unleashed the full power granted to him through genetic mutation. The familiar thrill of chaos ran through his veins. He steadied his stance, eyes glowing faintly with electricity, and whispered under his breath, "Thunder Clap."
The air trembled.
A deafening boom exploded outward, shaking the entire city. Lightning cracked in the skies above as a soundwave rippled through the battlefield. That was Rick's unique ability — Thunder. At first, he had dismissed it as useless noise manipulation. But through countless experiments and failures, he'd discovered its true potential: when the frequency and volume reached a certain threshold, it could shatter eardrums, disorient opponents, and paralyze their nervous systems. From that discovery, he created his own technique — Thunder Clap.
The lizard froze for a split second, reeling from the sonic blast. Rick grinned, though blood dripped from the corner of his mouth — even he wasn't spared from the attack's backlash. "Worth it," he whispered.
He dashed forward, the ground cracking beneath each step as he closed in for the finishing blow. But just as his blade of darkness swung down, the air shimmered beside him. A portal — swirling, black, and ominous — appeared out of nowhere.
Before he could even register what was happening, a massive fist burst from the void and struck him square in the chest. The impact sent him flying again, his body crashing through debris as a sharp, metallic taste filled his mouth.
"W-What the hell…?" he coughed, forcing himself to his feet.
Then came the sound — bzzzz, bzzzzzz, bzzzzz — like distortion in reality itself. One after another, portals began to open all around him, forming a sinister ring of darkness. From each one, figures began to emerge.
Rick squinted through the haze. His body trembled, not from fear, but from disbelief.
They were black — completely black. Not dark-skinned, not shadowed — black, as if they were born from the absence of light itself. Their outlines twisted and flickered, darker than even the night around them.
Even with his blurred vision, he could still make them out clearly. That's how dark they were. That's how unnatural.
His breath hitched, his grip tightening around the Quill.
"What… are those… things?" he whispered.