On that Sunday evening, Guarly is softly illuminated by the sunset. Citizens enjoy its warmth: children play in the park under their parents' watchful eyes, office workers head home after work, and the windows of the buildings reflect a beautiful orange glow. This moment of absolute calm is shared by two friends sitting on the railing of a fortieth-floor rooftop.
One is dressed in a yellow karategi with golden lines, sitting on the edge and swinging his legs as he takes a sip of his refreshing milkshake. The other, a redhead, leans his arms against the railing beside his best friend. He also holds a milkshake—purple this time—and wears a short white shirt, dark shorts, sunglasses, and sneakers. Both simply take in the breathtaking view.
The redhead takes his last sip and says, "So let me get this straight—you didn't save the people at the mall that was attacked by soldiers in early March. Instead, it was some kind of samurai with a serrated knife he picked up somewhere."
Tyron, sipping his shake, replies, "Yeah, that's right."
Antonio, serious and raising an eyebrow, continues, "And this same guy turns out to be a real-life Jedi who took you and three others as his disciples."
Tyron thinks for a moment. "Well, you skipped the part where we had to pass a trial for him to accept us—but yeah, you could say that."
Antonio looks confused. "Then it turns out one of you is Plata, so the rest become vigilantes by this guy's order, helped by a detective who knows the samurai, all to stop some kind of… conqueror in the modern age from taking over the city and then the entire province—despite already controlling five of them."
Tyron smiles. "Yeah. They're the same people who took over Liz Tower a few months ago."
Antonio takes another sip, still puzzled. "Okay, recap: a military group led by someone called the Director controls five provinces, and another group of… what, rebels?"
Tyron looks down. "More like a rebellion against the government in their own society."
Antonio arches an eyebrow. "Right. And these rebels control another five provinces, and—coincidentally—one of your teammates has her older sister as their leader, or at least a high-ranking member. Supposedly, that teammate already knows about an energy that's technically responsible for the creation of everything—basically tearing apart every scientific theory or religious belief."
Tyron finishes his shake, nodding repeatedly. "Exactly."
Antonio rubs his temple, a headache forming. "And this energy exists in everything, giving some people superhuman abilities. And the only thing stopping these two groups of—what, evil Jedis?—from taking over the last three provinces is this samurai who, for the Society of beings that control this energy called Fiu… is basically God?"
Tyron gazes at the sky. "Well… not God exactly. More like a living being with God's power. And supposedly there are two others like him, who either counterbalance each other or something like that."
Antonio's left eye twitches nervously from confusion. "Okay. And this energy lets you do practically anything if you train your… emotions?"
Tyron tosses his empty plastic cup into the air, looking skyward. "Basically, our emotions are like keys that make Fiu react. We can only control the Fiu inside us—or at least, the master still won't teach us how to use the Fiu in nature itself."
Antonio stares at him, utterly baffled, blinking several times to process everything. Finally, he says, "Look—if in the message where you revealed your identity as Topacio you'd told me all this, I'd have thought you were high or something. But you climbed a forty-story building wall like damn Spider-Man, so I guess I have to believe you."
Tyron laughs. Antonio takes another sip and sighs at how refreshing it is, still wearing a confused expression. They admire the city until Tyron suddenly jumps into the void. Concentrating Fiu in his left hand, he sticks to the wall, while Antonio spins toward the rooftop entrance, hiding his shake behind his back.
The door opens, revealing Antonio's mother. "What are you doing here, son?"
Antonio laughs nervously. "Just enjoying the view, hehe."
She clearly doesn't believe him and notices he's hiding something. Irritated, she steps closer. "You know you're forbidden from talking to that dark-skinned boy again."
As she approaches, Antonio drops his drink into the void so she won't see it. Tyron catches it with his right hand and, taking advantage of being still, tastes it—grimacing. Ugh, grape!
Nélida looks at Antonio's hands. "Fine. You can stay a few more minutes, then come down."
"Yes, Mom," Antonio replies with a smile.
When she leaves, Antonio exhales in relief. Tyron hops back up and hands him the shake, sitting on the railing with his back to the drop.
"And I'm the one with bad taste, Mr. Grape," Tyron jokes.
They laugh, payback for judging the girl Tyron is in love with. Then Antonio's mood dims.
"So… what do your teammates think of me?" he asks.
Tyron freezes, surprised that Antonio figured out the other vigilantes were female. Thinking about what the blonde might do if he confirmed it, he sweats and replies, "What teammates?"
Antonio raises an eyebrow. "You think people can't tell? It's you, Emily, Alexa, and the blonde beast. You'd have to be really dumb not to see that such different personalities stick together for more than just liking each other."
Tyron chuckles quietly, imagining Francesca furious and shivering slightly. He sighs and looks out over the city. "It's complicated. Right now they don't trust you. Maybe I messed up telling them I saw Erinios in your mind. Even though I told them you don't hear him anymore, they're still wary."
Antonio lowers his head, smiling sadly. "I should be mad, but I wouldn't trust someone who attacked us before either."
Tyron smiles encouragingly. "I'll ask again once we intercept one of the Director's weapon shipments. Tomorrow's December seventh—the last day they're supposedly sent. Since we haven't found any yet, they're probably stressed. If I bring it up again after we stop the enemy's plans, they might accept you."
Antonio looks him in the eyes. "Alright. If I can help in any way, just tell me."
Tyron stands on the railing. "All I know are the names of the companies that owned the previous vehicles: Comercial Figer, Transmition Plus, and Localt Tec."
Antonio grips Tyron's hand firmly. "Got it. I'll stay alert. I'll let you know if anything comes up. Take care."
Tyron nods, pulls a yellow scarf up over his nose and a hood of the same color over his head, and leaps into the void. Channeling Fiu into his legs, he boosts himself off the thirtieth floor wall, launches to another building, lands perfectly, and sprints across rooftops toward Liz Tower to meet the others.
A new week begins. It's Monday afternoon, December seventh. Leaves swirl through the forest as gray clouds gather, the wind growing stronger and guiding them to the clearing where the warrior's cabin stands. On the back porch, the master watches his students struggle to form energy spheres. The difficulty pushes them near their limits—except for Francesca, who looks exhausted, sweat dripping onto the grass.
Alexa is close to finishing but runs out of Fiu. Trying to force the cold sensation, veins bulge in her arm, but within seconds the orb dissipates. She drops the guiding stone, breathing heavily, as Jayden snaps, "When did I say you could rest?"
She glares at him. "I can't anymore—I'm out of energy!"
Jayden appears in front of her, flicking her forehead with his left hand, while lifting Tyron's arm with his right as a brief burst of yellow Fiu shoots skyward.
"Damn it!" Tyron pants, bracing his hands on his knees and tossing the stone aside. Jayden smacks him too. "Stable flow, idiot."
Jayden addresses them all. "I know it's hard. You did fine with the previous six. You must complete eight so your mind forms the correct concept. This is the most powerful technique I've taught you—it requires great Fiu control and a large amount of energy. To make it simple—Liar, make an air sphere."
Alexa does so effortlessly, though annoyed at the nickname.
"That one's easy," Jayden continues. "Just concentrate the element your Fiu aligns with. This technique, however, requires condensed energy—a solid mass. It's much harder, but far more powerful than a simple elemental ball."
Emily feels her arm burn as she sustains a light-brown orb. After a long effort, she matches its weight to the stone.
"Good. Now throw it," Jayden says.
She nods and aims at a tree. The orb barely travels a few meters before crashing into the ground and exploding, filling the clearing with dust. When it clears, a massive crater remains. Everyone stares in shock.
"Alright. You can rest, Emily," Jayden says.
He crouches, and the students watch in amazement as the ground rapidly restores itself—even the grass. Tyron whispers to Alexa, "Is that why this place never shows damage?" She nods.
Francesca fires her orb next, obliterating a practice dummy.
"Well done. Rest. You're dismissed—there's a storm coming," Jayden says.
"Are you afraid of rain?" Francesca asks.
"No," he snaps. "But you'll have to explain why you're soaked."
Alexa and Tyron snicker—until Jayden glares. "Not much to laugh about for two useless idiots who can't even make seven spheres."
"Yes, Master," they answer in unison.
That night, in the red-haired teen's penthouse bedroom, Antonio lies on his bed watching videos at full volume. He reflects on how he ruined his chance to atone for the harm he caused as his alter ego. Disappointed, he sets his phone aside and stares at the ceiling—until his mother enters, reminding him to unplug electronics because a storm is coming.
After she leaves, Antonio watches the dark clouds gather over the city. Then inspiration strikes. He grabs his phone, opens a map app, and identifies a perfect vantage point to monitor the city's entrances.
Confident, he packs sports clothes, a green knit beret, a drone with four cameras, a tablet, and a controller. He hesitates, then adds a metal briefcase to the backpack.
"Dangerous… but keeping Ty's chat open should be enough," he murmurs, heading out.
Avoiding hallway cameras, he exits through the parking lot and walks to a hotel near the city's outskirts. After climbing the fire stairs to the roof, he launches the drone, holding it at thirteen meters. He configures the cameras to cover the entrances, splitting the tablet screen into four feeds.
Thirty minutes pass—then he spots a car carrier truck on the highway ramp. He zooms in, snaps a photo of the logo on the driver's door, enhances it, and whispers, "Transmition Plus. Got you."
The truck passes right by the hotel.
"I've got the truck! I need to tell Ty," Antonio thinks—then decides to secure it first.
He stows the tablet and phone, runs after the vehicle, leaps to the adjacent building, and skillfully lands the drone atop one of the cars being transported. With the controller packed away, Antonio follows at a distance—unnoticed.