While Danny grumbled about Rebecca, Samuel Xenon stepped up beside him, arms folded and a smirk on his face.
"Yo, Exemplar. You enjoyed the show?" Samuel Xenon asked, nudging Danny with a raised brow and easy smile.
Danny, arms crossed, leaned on the railing, eyes fixed on the field below where chaos still lingered. His expression stayed serious, almost disappointed, but a spark flickered in his eyes.
"What enjoyment?" Danny scoffed. "I had high hopes for that last punch."
He paused, then gave a small nod. "But it's okay. Now that kid's officially joined."
Samuel glanced sideways. "I think I shall test him next. What you say?" Danny added, a grin slowly spreading like a challenge.
Samuel twitched his brows, hesitant. "That might be a good idea... I guess," he said, voice laced with doubt.
Danny shrugged it off like wind brushing past his coat.
"Well, the best thing is—we're getting a real monster-level guy this time."
His voice dropped, carrying weight. Samuel looked down at the spot where Alex had stood minutes ago.
"I think his rank will be at least Breaker," Samuel muttered, thinking of the lightning, the finale, the raw presence. The kid wasn't just flash.
"Ah. I'm off now. See you tomorrow," Danny said, turning to leave.
"Don't blow up the training hall in your dreams," Samuel called after him.
Danny waved it off, disappearing down the corridor.
—
Elsewhere, the riot had long gone quiet.
Inside a simple room deep in the Axis compound, the lights were off—moonlight leaking through the blinds. Alex lay flat on his bed, arms under his head, eyes on the ceiling.
His heart was calm, but his mind refused to rest.
"I'm finally here…" he whispered. "Just a few more steps… and I'll meet you again."
His eyes narrowed slightly.
But the moment didn't last.
In his head, a ridiculous clown-faced Leif appeared—nose too red, vines like party streamers.
Alex groaned, turning on his side. "Only if that idiot stays out of my way."
—
Somewhere in a desert.
Wind howled across silver-lit dunes. Bones, lizards, and silence filled the cold night. One man walked, boots crunching over skulls and ribs. He didn't flinch.
He stopped at an old, rusted structure, half-buried in sand—abandoned for decades.
He stepped closer, eyeing the corroded sign.
"A lab," he muttered. "In the middle of a desert?"
He paused, eyes narrowing.
"I think I know whose lab it could be."
The metal door groaned open. Hinges screamed. Inside—pitch black. He lit a Pulse lamp on his chest strap. Cracked floors, dark dried stains.
He crouched.
"Blood," he whispered.
The air reeked of chemicals and rot. Along the wall—glass containers held decaying creatures: nerve-exposed rats, multi-headed snakes, mutated frogs. Some preserved, some not. All dead.
"These are experimental animals," he said quietly. "They're all rotten now."
He moved deeper in. Cobwebs hung like veins. Dust choked the air. Torn papers littered the floor. At a rusted desk, he opened a drawer.
Inside—half-eaten, water-damaged pages of a file.
"A torn-up file," he said, flipping through. "Might give me some clue."
Most pages were ruined—sentences cut, names lost. Then he froze. One fragment stood out:
The day… sealed by his… the de… Tenebris was… for years…
His breath caught.
"Shadow Emperor… Tenebris."
He closed the file, voice heavier. "After all these years of searching… finally, my search is completed."
He slipped the papers into a weathered satchel, gave the lab one last glance, and stepped outside.
The desert wind greeted him.
"Simon Graves, Shadow Emperor"
"I need to tell Lazarus about this."
-
The golden sunlight crept through the tall windows of the Crimson Riot Axis training hall, casting long shadows across the floor. Morning had barely arrived, yet the hall buzzed with energy. Some members stretched. Others munched burnt toast—courtesy of Leif's failed breakfast.
"Good morning, everyone!" Samuel Xenon called out, strolling through the Axis gates with his signature carefree smile.
"The weather's perfect today. Cold air, clear sky... absolutely wonderful," he added, waving to a few familiar faces.
He approached the benches, where Alex lounged with a drink in hand and legs crossed like he hadn't nearly vaporized someone last night. Samuel plopped beside him, stretching out a hand.
"Hi, I'm Samuel Xenon. You can call me Sam, if you like."
Alex turned with a grin.
"Hi. It's nice to meet you."
Samuel raised an eyebrow.
"If I'm not wrong... you're the guy who crisped Leif to death last night, right?" he chuckled, nudging him.
A voice barked from behind.
"Watch before you act, buddy! I'm right here! Breathing—and still in one piece!"
Leif limped toward them, wrapped in bandages and scowling.
"Oh, my bad. I thought you were done for this time," Samuel replied, barely hiding a laugh.
Leif threw a punch—
"Just let me punch you and you'll get if I'm alive or not!"
CRACK!
"Ouchhh!" Leif yelped, clutching his arm.
"Damn, that hurts... I forgot I broke my arm last night!"
He groaned dramatically.
"You got lucky, or I would've... I would've..."
Samuel waved him off.
"Shoo, shoo. I've got business here."
Leif muttered threats and limped away like a defeated warrior.
Samuel turned back to Alex.
"So anyways, Mr. Alex Bezerin. You seem like a chill guy."
Alex leaned back, eyes closed smugly.
"I don't just look—I am a chill guy."
Samuel grinned.
"Your chill face might not be chilling after what's gonna happen next."
Alex cracked an eye open.
"Now what?"
"It's just that Exemplar Danny has his eyes on you. Says he wants to test you next."
Alex tensed.
"WHAT?! ANOTHER TEST?! But didn't I pass the sparring test last night?!"
"You did," Samuel said, clearly enjoying this.
"But it's Danny's style. He only tests rookies he likes. If you pass his test… you get a shot at joining his squad."
Nearby, Leif—half-limping, half-eavesdropping—muttered like a cartoon villain.
"If Danny is testing him... he's got no chance."
THUD!
A heavy bootstep echoed like a war drum. Heads turned.
"Yo, Lazy Flares!"
Danny Raines marched in, his coat flaring behind him like a cape. His presence arrived before his words.
"It's a nice morning, don't you see?" he said, gesturing grandly to the sky beyond the glass roof.
Most members didn't even flinch—some yawned, others rolled eyes—but Danny kept going.
"So get out and earn your breads!"
His voice thundered through the hall like chaotic motivation.
He stopped beside Alex, draping an arm over his shoulder like an old friend.
"Ah, the Leif Killer dude. I was looking for you."
From across the room, Leif narrowed his eyes.
"Here comes the Titan," he thought, half afraid.
Alex blinked.
"Looking... for me... why exactly?"
Danny tilted his head, grinning.
"Why? That's a great question. And the answer is… even I don't know."
Before Alex could respond, Danny called out—
"Hey!"
Rebecca sat at her desk, typing away.
"Yeah, what?" she replied without looking.
Danny's grin didn't falter.
"Is there a job I can punch on?"
Rebecca scrolled through her mission list.
"Nothing fancy. It's a second-level one. Mind taking it?"
"Just a second level... Okay. No problem." Danny shrugged like she'd asked him to grab lunch.
Alex, meanwhile, watched like a startled animal. His mind raced, instincts screaming.
Danny's vibe was unlike anyone else in the Axis. Unreadable. No logic to his moves or words. Like a storm that cracked jokes before hitting.
Danny pointed at Alex without looking.
"Just give it to this guy."
Alex blinked.
"A mission...?"
He barely processed it. It felt too soon. He hadn't even recovered from yesterday—now he was being thrown into something new.
He glanced at Samuel, silently pleading. But Samuel was laughing, clearly enjoying the show. Leif looked even more entertained.
Danny clapped once and turned like the matter was settled. Rebecca just sighed and began prepping the file like it was routine.
"What could be a second-level mission?" Alex wondered, brows tightening. He leaned toward Samuel, who looked completely relaxed.
"Chill, dude," Samuel said, placing a hand on Alex's shoulder with a calm grin. "Second levels are too easy. I guess you might be lucky after all."
But Alex wasn't reassured. His shoulders were tense. In this world, even an 'easy' mission could spiral into disaster if you weren't ready.
A few feet ahead, Danny casually flipped through a worn mission file, one hand in his long black coat. The sun caught the silver Exemplar badge on his chest. He looked up, smirking.
"Alright," Danny said with amusement, "It's not that big of a mission to test you, but still—you're coming with me."
Alex blinked.
"Huh?"
Before he could react, the world shifted.
—
They were now in a mountainous region—sharp, cold terrain with misty ridges and biting wind. Loose gravel crunched under their boots as they stepped onto a narrow plateau carved into the cliffside.
Ahead, a cave entrance was sealed by massive boulders. Some were car-sized, others shattered. Rusted mining gear—shovels, carts, a glove—was scattered around. No signs of life, but tension hung in the air.
Alex scanned the area, still catching up.
"So, Captain," he asked, brushing wind from his face, "what's our job here?"
Danny pointed at the boulder pile.
"Look. That cave. Miners are trapped in there."
Alex's eyes widened as he looked back.
"So we have to get them out of there," he said, now understanding.
"Exactly," Danny replied, pressing a firm hand on his back. "You're a sharp one."
There was a gleam in Danny's eye—not concern, but excitement to see Alex under pressure.
"So. Alex boy," he said, stepping back. "Clear the path and get us inside."
Alex nodded, confidence rising. His pulse synced with his heartbeat. Electricity surged through his arm, purple arcs flickering across his palm like a storm waiting to strike.
-
"Here you go," Alex said.
He rotated his shoulder, stepping forward. The charge gathered fast. A bolt began to form in his hand, glowing with energy, humming with violent promise. His other hand pulled back, the stance that of a fighter preparing to launch an explosive finisher.
"Thunder Stri—!"
SMACK!
A flat slap landed on the top of Alex's head, just hard enough to make him stagger a step sideways and cancel the forming bolt. The electricity sputtered and fizzled out instantly, the aura dispersing into harmless sparks.
"You thunderhead," Danny snapped, shaking his hand out like it hurt. "Do you want to bury those poor people alive in there?!"
Alex blinked in confusion. "Ouch, that hurts…"
He rubbed the back of his head where Danny had struck him, his brow furrowed and cheeks flushed from embarrassment.
Danny scowled at him and pointed at the boulders with his thumb. "Use those hands and your strength to remove the boulders. No thunder, got that?"
Alex lowered his head with a grumble, muttering something inaudible under his breath.
"Yes, sir," he finally said, rolling his eyes.
He moved toward the pile of rocks with a slight slouch in his shoulders, already regretting being too eager to show off. His arms sparked lightly out of habit before he consciously suppressed the Pulse. He reached for the first boulder, gripping it tight with both hands.
Danny stood with his arms crossed, watching him with sharp eyes. He didn't miss the frustration in Alex's expression—or the fact that, despite the grumbling, Alex obeyed without hesitation.
The mountain wind picked up again. Dust whirled in spirals around them as the morning sun climbed higher. The cave loomed ahead like a stone giant with its mouth sewn shut. And in that moment, Alex began the slow, heavy work of peeling it open—one rock at a time.
The boulders tumbled aside one after another, scraping the stone floor as Alex exhaled heavily, his arms aching.
"Ah... my hands hurt," he muttered, holding them up. They were red, the veins bulging under his skin from the effort. "Those were some heavy boulders…"
Danny stepped up beside him, hands on his hips, wearing that same proud grin he always carried. "Alright. The path is clear now."
He gave a firm nod toward the cave's entrance. "Let's get inside and start the job."
Without waiting, he stepped into the dark cave ahead and tossed a hand back. "C'mon, don't just stand there. Come in."
Alex narrowed his eyes. "Join his squad? If I join his, that's gonna be a gate to hell," he thought bitterly, watching Danny's broad back disappear into the shadows.
Still, he followed.
The cave swallowed them whole, all natural light fading behind the curve of the tunnel. Not even a hint of sunlight reached inside. It was pitch black, the cold air clinging to the walls.
Danny pulled out a torch and lit it with a spark, casting a soft orange glow ahead of them. Shadows stretched long across the uneven rock walls as the two moved deeper in.
Then came voices.
"Look! Someone came to rescue us!"
"We're saved!"
"Thank God…"
"Wait—is that… Exemplar Danny?! From Crimson Riot?!"
The voices came from deeper inside, echoing off the cave walls. Miners. Dirty, tired, but alive.
Danny raised the torch and called out, "Is everyone still in one piece?"
A chorus of faint, tired replies came back. "Yeah…"
"Alright, then," Danny said with a confident nod. "Nothing seems broken. Let's start the evacuation."
Without wasting a second, Danny moved to the injured, lifting one man over his shoulder as if he weighed nothing. He motioned to the rest, pointing out the path. "The exit's open. Head that way."
Alex moved quickly to help, wrapping an arm around one injured miner's shoulder and guiding him toward the light outside. He helped another up from the ground, checking that they could walk.
It was going well. Smooth. Efficient.
Most had made it out already. Only a few still remained.
Then Alex heard it.
A noise. Sharp and dry.
Crack.
He turned.
"What is that sound…?"
It came from above.
His eyes followed the echo—and there it was.
A boulder, dislodged from the ceiling, breaking free from the rock with a threatening groan. Dust trailed behind it as gravity took hold.
And Danny—Danny didn't even notice. He was carrying another injured miner, back turned to the danger, completely unaware.
Alex's heart skipped.
Without a second thought, he lunged.
"This might be my chance to show him," he thought.
One foot lifted off the cave floor. His body coiled.
He jumped.
In a flash, Alex spun and extended his leg—his foot met the falling boulder.
Just that.
No impact. No explosion. No result.
His foot touched the massive stone mid-air.
And—
To be continued.