EARTH — MAVIS'S ROOM
The afternoon sun filtered through the curtains of Mavis's room, casting long shadows across the cluttered desk and posters on the wall. Mavis sat on his bed, still shaken from the hospital ordeal, while Dave paced nervously, and Shaha leaned against the doorframe, his expression thoughtful and intense.
Dave stopped abruptly, his eyes wide. "Hey, Mavis, it's something off."
He gestured wildly, his voice rising with excitement and concern.
"You said you got weird dreams earlier, and this... falling from the fourth floor without a scratch? It's not normal!"
Mavis nodded slowly, rubbing his temples. "Yeah... and I heard some weird voices. Like, inside my head. Telling me to... kill or something. It freaked me out."
Shaha listened carefully, his gaze sharpening. Dave scratched his head, frowning.
"But Mavis, you're still alive without a scratch. How is that even possible?"
Mavis shrugged, frustration creeping into his voice.
"How do I know? It just... happened."
Dave opened his mouth to argue, but Shaha interrupted smoothly, his tone firm and pragmatic.
"It's a waste of time to discuss the past, Dave. Mavis, something's off with you. You need to find out what it is. If you need help, just approach me—I'm looking forward to it."
Mavis felt a wave of relief wash over him.
"Thanks, Shaha-san."
Shaha nodded curtly.
"I'm leaving; I have more work. I hope you find it soon."
He turned and exited the room, his footsteps echoing down the hallway.
Mavis stared after him, then sighed. "Hmm, he's right."
Dave grinned mischievously, plopping down beside him.
"Haven't you seen animes or comics?"
Mavis looked at him in shock.
"What the heck are you trying to ask?"
Dave laughed, waving his hands.
"You became an undead or something!"
Mavis's eyes widened. "What?!"
Dave snapped his fingers, struggling to remember.
"Huh, it's not undead, it's... it's... ist... bruh, I forgot it."
Mavis shook his head, exasperated. "Hell, let's move out for a while."
Dave jumped up, grinning. "Ahh, then come on, let's go!"
Slowly, the scene faded, the room dissolving into shadows.
---
NESSARA — THE BLOODY MASSACRE
The kingdom of Nessara lay in ruins, a once-thriving city now a graveyard of shattered stone and crimson rivers. Blood soaked the earth, pooling beneath the bodies of fallen warriors—limbs twisted, eyes vacant, the air thick with the metallic stench of death. Nivaros stood at the center of the chaos, his figure a towering silhouette against the smoke-choked sky, his alien suit stained with gore.
"Is that all the guards of Nessara got?"
he shouted, his voice a thunderous echo that reverberated through the devastation. A faint, mocking laugh escaped him as he surveyed the carnage.
From the rubble, a voice rasped—a survivor, perhaps, or the wind carrying the last gasp of the dying. But Nivaros ignored it, his focus unbroken.
He had torn through the kingdom like a storm, his core powers unleashing voids that swallowed soldiers whole, his hands ripping flesh from bone in brutal efficiency. Now, the king of Nessara lay broken at his feet, the once-mighty ruler reduced to a whimpering heap, his crown askew, blood trickling from his mouth.
Nivaros pressed his boot down on the king's head, grinding it into the dirt with casual cruelty.
"Pathetic," he muttered.
The last survivor in Nessara emerged from the shadows—the king's young son, barely fifteen, his eyes blazing with fury and grief. He clutched a sword, his hands trembling but resolute.
"Take your filthy leg off my father!"
he screamed, charging forward with reckless bravery.
Nivaros dodged the swing effortlessly, a blur of lethal grace. He glanced down at the king, his tone dripping with false curiosity.
"Oh my, I missed that. Kid, is this your son, Mr. King?"
The king could only groan, his body too battered to respond.
Nivaros's eyes darkened, a death stare that promised oblivion.
"So, let me show a show for my king."
He turned slowly toward the boy, who raised his sword again, defiance burning in his gaze. The kid swung wildly, but Nivaros was faster—inhumanly so. With a swift motion, he severed the boy's arm at the shoulder. Blood sprayed in an arc, the limb thudding to the ground as the boy screamed, collapsing to his knees in agony.
The king, helpless on the ground, watched in horror, tears mixing with blood on his face.
The boy clutched the stump of his arm, pain twisting his features.
"You monster..." he gasped, his voice breaking.
Nivaros grabbed the boy's chin roughly, forcing his head up, their faces inches apart.
"Do you know how true monsters fight?" he whispered, his breath hot and vile.
The boy glared back, hatred in his eyes, but Nivaros's grip tightened. Without warning, he plunged his hand into the boy's stomach, ripping through flesh and muscle. The kid's screams pierced the air as Nivaros tore out organs one by one—intestines uncoiling like bloody ropes, the liver pulped in his fist, the heart still beating as he crushed it. He smashed the viscera into small, unrecognizable pieces right in front of the king, the wet sounds echoing like a symphony of horror.
The boy slumped, lifeless, his body a mangled ruin.
Nivaros stepped back to the king, placing his foot on the man's head once more.
"How was the show, Mr. King?"
Without wasting a second, Nivaros stomped down, the king's skull cracking under the force, brains and bone splattering across the ground. The body twitched once, then went still.
Nivaros surveyed the devastation, a satisfied smirk on his lips. He summoned numerous void monsters—twisted, ethereal creatures born from the abyss, their forms shifting like living shadows.
"Hunt everyone on this planet," he commanded, his voice cold and absolute.
"Leave no one alive."
To the largest, most intelligent of the beasts—a hulking monstrosity with glowing eyes—he gave a special order.
"I think a core may have chosen one from this planet. If that chosen guy is here, bring him to me."
The monsters dispersed, their howls filling the air as they ravaged what remained of Nessara.
Nivaros muttered to himself,
"Hmm, not bad for a warm-up."
He gazed at the sky, his expression unreadable—a mix of boredom and anticipation. The hunt for the six core users had only just begun, and this planet was merely the appetizer.
The scene faded into the void, the echoes of screams lingering like a promise of more bloodshed to come.
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