Friday morning came with a strange stillness. The city was noisy as always—vendors hawking on the street, cars honking like they were in a war of horns, gangs patrolling their corners—but Kael-X was quiet. Too quiet.

He had been restless all night, Augustus feeding him streams of background data about Red City's underworld, about how the school league was distracting the population, about the strange fluctuations of elemental signatures in the lower districts. But Kael ignored most of it. His mind kept drifting back to Samantha.

She had become… complicated. At first, she was just another face in the crowd, a bullied girl he casually pulled out of misery because it suited his curiosity. But now, she was a symbol. A wedge between him and Maya, a spark of division in the fragile peace of his new life. And yet, he couldn't shake her off.

So, without announcing anything, he left the workshop that morning and blurred through the streets like a phantom. To the eyes of humans, he was just a rush of air. To Augustus, he was moving at a clean 812 km/hr—leisurely for him.

"Destination confirmed: Samantha Ryker's residence," Augustus chimed in his head.

"Good. No time to waste."

Within minutes, he reached the modest two-story home tucked between rows of battered apartments. He didn't bother with doors or windows. His body shimmered, bent through space itself, and phased directly into her room.

The reaction was immediate.

Samantha shrieked and stumbled backward, clutching her chest as if an intruder had broken in. Her breathing was ragged until her wide eyes settled on the hooded figure now standing silently before her.

"Kael…?" she whispered, relief washing over her pale face. "You scared me."

Kael didn't answer.

The moment his gaze fell on her, something inside him burned. Her arms were riddled with purple bruises, faint cuts laced her skin, and her left cheek was swollen as though someone had slapped her repeatedly. She had tried to cover it with makeup, but nothing escaped his sharpened senses.

The calm mask cracked.

He clenched his teeth so hard the muscles in his jaw trembled. But outwardly, he forced his posture still—because rage, when concealed, was far deadlier.

"Who did this to you?" His voice was flat, almost too calm.

Samantha flinched, her lips trembling. She lowered her gaze, trying to tug her sleeve over her arm. "I-It's nothing. I just—"

"Who." Kael's tone sharpened.

Silence. She bit her lip, refusing to speak. Fear wasn't of him—it was of what would happen if she answered.

Kael's control slipped. His voice dropped an octave, guttural, resonating with something unearthly. "Who did this to you?"

The air in the room thickened. Dust particles seemed to freeze mid-air. Samantha's heart pounded so loudly she swore he could hear it.

Finally, Kael tore his eyes from her and looked around the room. He didn't need her to speak. Augustus was already humming.

'Scan this place. Trace every abnormal element, every footprint, every object not belonging here.'

[Scanning…] Augustus's voice was calm, mechanical, filling Kael's head with data streams. [Three anomalies detected. Floorboards scuffed at angles consistent with forced entry. Fibers of synthetic leather left on the edge of her dresser. Metallic residue—cheap grade iron alloy, used in mass gang-issued knives. Cross-referencing… Match confirmed. Signature belongs to: Reidin Gang.]

Kael's hands tightened into fists. The sound of his knuckles cracking echoed in the small room.

"The Reidin Gang." His whisper was venom.

Samantha gasped softly, her eyes widening at the mention of the name. She tried to reach for his sleeve. "Kael, don't—"

But he was already gone.

The space where he stood rippled and folded in on itself, leaving behind nothing but a fading distortion.

---

One Hour Later.

The city was in uproar.

Every news channel scrambled to push the story before their competitors, and within minutes, the headlines blazed across the United Nations network.

> "Breaking News: Reidin Gang Massacred—No Survivors Found in Hideout."

"In an unprecedented overnight assault, the notorious Reidin Gang was wiped out to the last man. Their hideout in Lower Sector 7 was reduced to rubble. Sources say the destruction appeared surgical—buildings caved inward, corpses displayed wounds no weapon on record could inflict. Authorities confirm the gang's thirty-two members are dead. Investigation ongoing."

The 16-inch television in Elijah and Maya's house flashed with footage of smoking ruins, policemen hauling out broken weapons, and horrified civilians whispering of ghosts and monsters.

Meanwhile, Samantha sat frozen on her bed, her hand covering her mouth as the news anchor's voice repeated the words: "No survivors." She didn't need confirmation. She already knew who had done it.

Back at the siblings' house, Maya watched the screen with her arms crossed. "Don't tell me…" She turned slowly toward the boy in the orange hood slouched in their chair. "Kael."

He tilted his head lazily. "Hmm?"

"Don't 'hmm' me. That wasn't a natural disaster. Don't tell me you caused that."

Kael leaned back, his smirk faint but his eyes hidden beneath the fall of blue hair. "Nah. I didn't."

Elijah squinted at him. "It's you."

Kael held up his hands innocently. "Prove it."

"Prove it?" Maya snapped. "The gang that's been terrorizing this city for months suddenly vanishes one night after you storm off? You think we're idiots?"

Kael shrugged. "Coincidence. Happens all the time."

Elijah rubbed his temples. "Kael… you can't just walk into this city and destroy entire gangs like you're swatting flies. Do you understand what you've just done?"

"I understand they won't be touching Samantha again," Kael said flatly.

The room fell silent.

For a brief moment, neither sibling could argue. Because deep down, as much as they feared him… they couldn't deny he was right.

Kael, however, just leaned back into the chair, arms crossed under his hood, expression unreadable. Inside his chest, though, the storm hadn't passed. The Reidin Gang was nothing. Flies, as he said. But the rage that ignited when he saw Samantha's bruises—that wa

s something new. Something dangerous.

And he wasn't sure if even he could control it for long.

---

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