The gym smelled like fear.
Hundreds of students stood shoulder-to-shoulder beneath the buzzing lights, military boots echoing across the hardwood floor. Clipboards. Detectors. Officers stationed at exits like iron statues.
Cyrus, Kaito, and Ethan stood in the middle of the crowd.
Ethan cracked a smile he didn't feel.
"Man… this is insane. They treat us like criminals."
Kaito whispered back, "Stay calm. Just act normal."
Cyrus didn't speak.
He watched everything—the officers' patterns, the scanning device rotations, the kids who were pulled aside and quietly escorted out.
Every detail mattered.
Every detail was information.
A soldier called out, "Next group!"
The three stepped forward.
The first device looked like a normal medical scanner—small, handheld, blinking green lights. Almost harmless.
Almost.
The soldier scanned Cyrus first.
A soft beep.
"Normal."
Then Kaito.
Another beep.
"Normal."
Ethan stepped up, rolling his shoulders like he always did.
The moment the scanner passed over him—
BEEP—BEEP—BEEP—BEEP—
Red lights.
Sirens.
A noise that punched the entire gym into silence.
The officer's expression changed instantly.
"…Sir? We have a Type-Red."
Two other officers rushed over.
Kaito's eyes widened.
"What the hell does Type-Red mean!?"
Ethan laughed nervously. "Guys… come on. Machine's broken, right?"
He tried to back away.
A gloved hand grabbed his arm.
"Stay still."
The scanner was pressed to his neck.
And again—
BEEP—BEEP—BEEP—BEEP—
The lead officer spoke into his comm receiver:
"Adrenaline levels off the charts. Body temperature irregular. Take him."
Ethan jerked back.
"What? No! I'm not going anywhere—let me go!"
He swung his arm wildly, pure panic turning into instinct.
For a split second, his muscles bulged—his veins lighting with a faint, terrifying red glow.
One of the officers flinched.
"Resisting. Subdue him."
Before anyone could breathe—
ZAP.
Electric current snapped through the air.
Ethan screamed, body stiffening as taser prongs dug into his side.
His knees hit the floor hard.
"ETHAN!" Kaito lunged forward—
Cyrus caught him by the collar, yanking him back before he did something suicidal.
"Let—go—of—me—!" Kaito struggled, voice cracking.
"They're hurting him!"
Cyrus didn't blink.
"Kaito. Stop. You'll only get taken too."
Two officers dragged Ethan across the gym floor, his fingers scraping uselessly against the wood.
He twisted once more, still trying to fight through the current—
"Cyrus! Kaito!"
His voice was ragged. "Don't—let—them—!"
Another surge of electricity shut him up.
His body went limp.
Students screamed.
Some cried.
Others stared in horrified silence.
As Ethan was pulled out of the gym doors, his eyes found Cyrus's for a split second—
pleading, terrified, begging.
Then the doors slammed shut.
---
Everything went quiet.
The students looked at their feet.
Kaito trembled beside him, fists clenched so tight his nails drew blood.
Across the gym, Detective Rael watched the scene like he was inspecting livestock.
For one brief moment, Rael's gaze met Cyrus's.
No words.
Just a thin, calculating glance.
Cyrus's return stare was colder than steel.
His eyes were filled with absolute rage.
A Death stare.
The detective smirked faintly and turned away.
Cyrus whispered, low enough only Kaito could hear:
"They're not keeping him because he's dangerous."
Kaito looked up, breath shaking.
"What… what do you mean?"
"They're keeping him because he's valuable."
Kaito swallowed. "Then—then what do we do?"
Cyrus's expression didn't change.
But something inside him did.
A decision.
A direction.
A first step toward the man he would one day become.
"We get him back," Cyrus said.
"Whatever it takes."