A black car comes to a stop. The long-haired man inside turns off the engine, takes a sip from a small metal flask kept in the glove compartment, and drinks the whisky before wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his light-brown jacket. He exhales heavily as he listens to the storm's raindrops striking the roof of the vehicle. Looking ahead, he notices how darkness has begun to swallow everything as dusk slowly arrives under the stormy sky.
It seems the kids have suffered another failure… he thinks, slipping a pack of cigarettes into the inner pocket of his jacket.
The detective steps out of the car and walks toward the warehouse, its lights still on. He enters through the destroyed entrance and observes several officers photographing the scene. Matias approaches one of the policemen, asking about the amount of weaponry found inside the building. He learns that the entire block held enough arms to equip ten thousand men. He nods, then turns to see several corpses being removed from the building across the street—some already crawling with maggots feeding on rotting flesh, releasing a nauseating stench into the air.
Suppressing his disgust, he walks over to where Jason stands, watching the medical examiner work on a teenage body. Upon seeing him, Surgiri simply asks the dark-haired detective:
"Did you notify the family?"
Jason sighs, looking at the red-haired boy.
"Yes. A little while ago. I suppose you already have plenty of experience with this sort of thing."
Welter ignores the comment and crouches beside the corpse, turning to the coroner.
"What was the cause of death?"
Jason answers without hesitation,
"A lethal wound to the heart. A quick death."
Welter nods, placing a hand on Jason's shoulder.
"Get used to it. This is the job… and believe me, no matter what you do, it always hurts the same when you have to tell parents they've lost a child."
The suited man steps away, clenching his fists tightly. Beneath the rain, he allows a few tears to fall for the boy.
Matias: to the coroner "Alright. You may take him. Please finish as quickly as possible so the body can be returned to the family."
Coroner: nodding "Yes, Detective."
Matias walks to the back of the warehouse, where the massive destruction allows him to imagine how brutal the Vigilants' battle must have been. He sees several officers gathering intact wooden crates filled with weapons. He helps them move everything to the front of the building. An hour passes, night fully claiming Guarly.
Carrying the last crate on his right shoulder, he sets it aside from the others and wipes sweat from his brow. He asks an officer for a crowbar and pries it open, discovering a large quantity of plastic explosives inside. Surgiri quickly calls in specialists to mark the crate and inspect the rest. Once they confirm the others contain only weapons, he exhales in relief.
He ponders how an entire neighborhood could have been seized without raising suspicion. Then he hears a car door close. Turning around, he sees several officers from the city courts' special unit—and among them, someone he recognizes: a well-dressed man with dark-brown hair, fair skin, and an athletic build.
Maxwell: offering his hand, serious "It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Detective Surgiri Welter."
Matias: raising an eyebrow as he shakes his hand "Good to see the city's newest—and most resolute—Prosecutor. What brings you here?"
Maxwell: looking at the devastated rear of the warehouse "I was notified that the police needed support, so I gathered the special unit to lend a hand. This is… a lot. I knew things like this had become more common in Guarly this year, but damn—this exceeds my imagination."
Matias: lighting a cigarette, stepping away from the explosives "I see. Still, I doubt that's your only reason."
Maxwell: smiling faintly "You're right. I couldn't stand the thought of an entire neighborhood being taken over by murderers and criminals. I want to join your investigation—help uncover the truth and ensure those responsible are punished."
Matias: looking up at the stormy sky "And what do you propose?"
Maxwell: gripping Matias by the shoulders "That you hand over at least half of the recovered weapons to the special unit while you investigate what destroyed this place."
Matias narrows his eyes, thinking, Is it just my imagination, or is he far too interested in the weapons? He smiles politely.
"I understand, but that won't be necessary. I can handle both the weapons and the crime scene. I've been on this case for quite some time."
Murmurs spread among the officers—processing a scene this large would normally require an entire force. Hearing them, the prosecutor lowers his gaze and speaks with feigned humility.
"I understand if you don't trust me, Detective. I only arrived in the city a few months ago… but I promise you, my goal is the same as yours. I want what's best for Guarly. Even if you refuse again, my help remains available."
All eyes turn to Surgiri. He exhales a plume of smoke, annoyed, and finally nods in agreement.
Hours later, the special unit and the prosecutor leave with half the military equipment. As they drive through the illuminated streets, Maxwell gazes out the window.
Driver: "Captain, is something wrong?"
Maxwell: narrowing his eyes "That detective is sharp. If he hadn't drawn attention to himself, we wouldn't have recovered anything."
Driver: surprised "But sir, that's barely ten percent of what survived because of the mercenary."
Maxwell: calm "True. But we recovered the explosives. We just need to change the plan. Besides…" he smiles "…what better than using that inept mercenary as a guinea pig to verify the words of the Barrier of Power?"
Elsewhere, atop a vast mountain range at midday, a castle-like structure stands. A bald man in white-and-black monk robes enters the courtyard, where an elderly man with a braided white beard watches over a group of children. The younger monk whispers:
"Venerable Zhaska… Hitar's father has died."
The elder looks surprised as they both glance at a ten-year-old boy with black hair and tanned skin sitting on a tree branch.
Zhaska: serious "Who killed his father?"
Monk: looking down "The honorable Barrier of Power and his students."
Zhaska nods.
"I see. I'll tell Hitar."
He sighs. It was to be expected… mercenaries never live long.
In a suburban home, Logan and Irene lie awake, thinking about what happened minutes earlier as thunder and rain intensify.
Logan: "Don't you think Tyron's reaction was… different?"
Irene: "What do you mean?"
Logan: "When Humberto told us the funeral would be tomorrow morning, it shocked us both."
Irene: "Yes… but what does that have to do with Tyron?"
Logan: "When we told him his best friend died, he broke down immediately. He didn't look shocked—almost as if he already knew."
Irene: angry "What are you implying, Logan?! That crazy Nélida already blamed him for everything when Antonio was hospitalized. Yes, our son was a bully—but he repented. He's a good boy."
Logan: quietly "I'm his father. I know him well enough to see regret. Maybe he was there… maybe he saw what happened."
Irene: slamming her fist against the wall "How dare you think that about our son?! He probably just had a bad feeling—maybe he saw Antonio earlier today when he went to dye his hair. Maybe that was their last meeting."
Logan nods slowly.
"That could be it…"
They turn off the lights and lie down. In Tyron's room, the boy sobs uncontrollably.
"I'm s-s-sorry…"
A thunderclap shakes the city.
"I failed you, Antonio."
At the forest cabin, the storm rages. Jayden finishes washing a plate, sits cross-legged on the floor, and meditates. Suddenly, he opens his eyes.
"I knew one of you would come."
He opens the door to find Francesca. Inside, he sets a bowl of stew before her.
"You get three questions. Choose wisely."
She eats, surprised by the taste, then asks:
"How did the technique you used to kill him work?"
Jayden explains Ignition—how he infiltrates his Fiu into the target, turning their own energy into fuel.
She asks about demonic techniques, then about the role of a Barrier. Jayden explains the three specializations of the User Society and the purpose of a Barrier—to be a limit that inspires others to surpass it.
When she asks why the User Society doesn't rule normal society, he dismisses it as an ancient pact—a story for another time.
She leaves, troubled. Jayden looks at a photograph and whispers, a tear falling,
"I'm sorry I wasn't there to help you."
Tuesday, December 8th. Morning. At the funeral, Tyron approaches Antonio's coffin. He speaks softly.
"Hey… buddy."
Later, he offers Nélida a lighter—his grandfather's.
"Antonio wanted to go camping someday. I want him to take a piece of that dream with him."
Moved, she places it in her son's hands.
At the cemetery, as the coffin is lowered, Tyron remains behind. Rain soaks him.
"I'm sorry… I failed you again."
Two figures step behind him, holding an umbrella.
Alexa: "Cry. Let it all out. The pain never disappears…"
Emily: "…but we'll be here for you."
Tyron falls to his knees in the mud, sobbing.
"I hate being so weak! I wish I'd been strong enough to save you!"