Someone adjusted a camera.
"Hello… hello… check."
A white room came into focus—too white. The walls were smooth, endless, filled with strange ridges that felt wrong to look at.
"Wait… did you hear that?"
"No. You're not the only one here."
A calm female voice echoed.
I tried to move, but my body felt heavy.
"Miss Kirila," I asked, "why are we in this room?"
She didn't hesitate.
"Nothing. Code No: 12."
"Code twelve…?"
Before I could ask more—
BEEP—BEEP—BEEP!
An alarm screamed.
My eyes snapped open.
"Ahh… again," I muttered. "The same dream."
Morning light filled my room.
I checked the time.
"…I'm late for school."
I jumped out of bed.
At School
"Eh? Why is no one here?"
Wal stood alone in the empty school corridor.
A janitor passed by lazily.
"It's Saturday, kid. Holiday."
"…What?!"
Groaning, Wal walked out of the school gate—
THUD.
A paper wall slapped straight into his face.
"Ow—what the—?"
He peeled it off slowly.
The Night
Lights exploded into color.
Music echoed through the massive tent as clowns danced and laughed unnaturally. Wal sat among the crowd, eyes wide, childlike excitement returning to him.
One clown caught his attention.
White face. Black eyes.
The clown's smile didn't feel human.
"…I'll just go home after this," Wal whispered.
The lights dimmed.
"Hello!" the ringmaster announced. "Welcome, everyone who visited us!"
Another clown jumped forward.
"Ring ring! Bingo! Those who came here are the lucky customers! We are going to show—or give—you a special gift!"
Wal's eyes sparkled.
"Gift?"
Then he smiled.
"Yeah. I want it. I'll wait."
A deep voice spoke from behind him.
"Gift, huh?"
Wal froze.
"I didn't expect them to be this cunning."
Slowly, Wal turned around.
A tall man stood there.
Long black hair. Calm eyes. Black outfit.
And earrings that reflected the circus lights.
The man from before.
He looked straight at Wal—and for a split second, the noise vanished.
Something bad was about to begin
Hey, kid… what are you looking?"
Wal paused mid-step.
He slowly turned his head toward the voice. A tall man stood behind him, calm yet unreadable, long black hair tied loosely behind his neck. Black clothes. Black eyes. Something about him felt… wrong.
"Nothing, sir," Wal replied casually. "But you kinda look nice. What were you talking about before?"
The man's lips curved slightly.
"That is none of your concern," he said. "Stay away from strange things."
He took a step back, then added,
"By the way… my name is Loki."
Wal blinked.
Loki raised an eyebrow.
"Oh—uh," Wal scratched his head. "My name's Wal. We've got cool names, bro."
"…Whatever," Loki muttered, turning away.
The show continued as usual.
And just like that—
It ended.
"Okay, everyone!" a clown announced loudly. "Thanks to all the audience who waited for the surprise. Thank you for your patience!"
Wal stretched.
"Yeah… finally. I'm gonna get my gift."
The moment Loki vanished, the air screamed.
A thunderclap split the hall as blue-white lightning tore through the mist.
The three clowns didn't even have time to react.
Their smiles froze.
Loki reappeared behind them—eyes cold, expression empty.
"Better not to waste time."
A single slash.
Lightning moved before sound.
The first clown's head separated cleanly, the body collapsing as if its strings were cut. The second tried to scream—but electricity pierced straight through his chest, burning the laugh off his face. The third clown jumped back, hands raised, eyes wide with fear.
Too late.
A shadow of ice spread across the floor.
The temperature dropped instantly.
The mist began to crystallize.
From the frozen fog, a boy stepped forward.
White breath escaped his lips.
Sharp, calm eyes.
Three floating ice shards rotated near his wrist, glowing faintly.
Hey, kid… what are you looking?"
Wal paused mid-step.
He slowly turned his head toward the voice. A tall man stood behind him, calm yet unreadable, long black hair tied loosely behind his neck. Black clothes. Black eyes. Something about him felt… wrong.
"Nothing, sir," Wal replied casually. "But you kinda look nice. What were you talking about before?"
The man's lips curved slightly.
"That is none of your concern," he said. "Stay away from strange things."
He took a step back, then added,
"By the way… my name is Loki."
Wal blinked.
Loki raised an eyebrow.
"Oh—uh," Wal scratched his head. "My name's Wal. We've got cool names, bro."
"…Whatever," Loki muttered, turning away.
The show continued as usual.
And just like that—
It ended.
"Okay, everyone!" a clown announced loudly. "Thanks to all the audience who waited for the surprise. Thank you for your patience!"
Wal stretched.
"Yeah… finally. I'm gonna get my gift."
The moment Loki vanished, the air screamed.
A thunderclap split the hall as blue-white lightning tore through the mist.
The three clowns didn't even have time to react.
Their smiles froze.
Loki reappeared behind them—eyes cold, expression empty.
"Better not to waste time."
A single slash.
Lightning moved before sound.
The first clown's head separated cleanly, the body collapsing as if its strings were cut. The second tried to scream—but electricity pierced straight through his chest, burning the laugh off his face. The third clown jumped back, hands raised, eyes wide with fear.
Too late.
A shadow of ice spread across the floor.
The temperature dropped instantly.
The mist began to crystallize.
From the frozen fog, a boy stepped forward.
White breath escaped his lips.
Sharp, calm eyes.
Three floating ice shards rotated near his wrist, glowing faintly.
The hall was silent.
Too silent.
The mist that once filled the stage froze mid-air, turning into glittering ice dust. The audience stood trapped in fear, unable to scream, unable to move.
Cris stood at the center.
Head lowered.
Breath steady.
But his eyes—
They weren't calm.
They were empty.
Thin black veins pulsed faintly at his neck, disappearing beneath his skin like crawling strings.
Loki noticed it instantly.
"…Mind control," he muttered.
A voice echoed from nowhere and everywhere at once.
"Such a beautiful power…
Ice bends so easily when pulled from the right strings."
Cris raised his head slowly.
Ice shards formed around his wrists—sharper, denser than before.
"Cris," Loki said calmly, taking a step forward.
"That's enough."
No response.
The floor exploded.
Cris vanished in a flash of frost.
Ice blades tore through the air, aiming straight for Loki's throat.
⚡ Flash.
Loki dodged effortlessly, lightning cracking beneath his feet.
"Damn it…" he whispered.
He's not holding back."
Cris appeared above him, both hands slammed down.
A massive ice hammer crashed toward Loki, freezing the air itself.
Loki raised one hand—
And stopped.
The attack missed by inches.
"Don't make me hurt you," Loki said quietly.
Cris answered with violence.
Dozens of ice spears erupted from the ground, chasing Loki like living beasts. Lightning danced as Loki weaved through them, but his expression hardened.
"This control…"
"…it's deep."
Cris rushed in, fist coated in compressed ice, eyes burning red.
A killing blow.
Loki sighed.
"…Enough."
He snapped his fingers.
The sound was soft.
But the sky answered.
⚡ CRAAACK—
Lightning didn't strike Cris.
It struck the space around him.
Thunder chains erupted from thin air, wrapping instantly around Cris's arms, legs, and torso. The ice shattered, power collapsing as Cris screamed—not in pain, but confusion.
"Loki—!" he gasped.
Loki appeared in front of him in a blink.
One precise strike to the neck—
charged with controlled lightning.
Not lethal.
Not cruel.
Cris's eyes widened.
Then rolled back.
His body went limp.
Loki caught him before he hit the ground.
The ice melted.
The hall returned to normal temperature.
Loki held Cris for a moment longer than necessary.
"…Sorry," he said quietly.
The unseen voice laughed.
"Interesting…
You chose mercy over victory."
The Kirilas symbol burned briefly into the air.
"Code 12 confirmed."
Then it vanished.
Loki gently laid Cris on the ground
Loki raised his hand.
His fingers snapped.
Tick.
The world stopped.
Sound vanished.
Movement froze.
Even the falling dust hung motionless in the air.
Time itself seemed to kneel.
The screen of reality turned black—
as if existence blinked.
Tick.
Time resumed.
Cris collapsed to his knees.
Blood spilled from his mouth, splashing onto the frozen floor.
His eyes glowed an unnatural blue, trembling with confusion.
"Wh—where am I…?" he whispered.
His body shook once.
Then—
He fell forward.
Unconscious.
The ice around him shattered and melted into nothing.
Panic exploded through the hall.
People screamed and rushed toward the exits, trampling seats, pushing each other in fear. The building echoed with chaos as everyone fled.
Loki clicked his tongue.
"I hate crowded places."
Within minutes—
The hall was empty.
Only three figures remained.
Wal stepped forward slowly, staring at Cris lying motionless on the ground.
"O-Okay… all the members are gone," Wal said nervously.
"So… what do we do now?"
Loki turned sharply.
"What the hell are you doing here?"
Wal scratched his head awkwardly.
"Nothing. Just… trying to understand how you knocked him out."
Loki sighed.
"Ahh… whatever."
He bent down, lifting Cris effortlessly onto his shoulder.
"Carry him," Loki said coldly.
"And follow me."
Wal's eyes widened.
"Eh?! But where?"
Loki walked toward the darkness ahead without turning back.
"You'll find out."
Thunder crackled faintly in the distance.
And somewhere far beyond—
Shut up and follow me."
Loki didn't slow down.
Wal blinked, then hurried after him.
"O-Oh… okay."
They walked for hours.
The city slowly thinned out. Crowds disappeared. Noise faded. Even the air felt different—heavy, quiet, as if the world itself was holding its breath.
Finally, Loki stopped.
Wal frowned.
"…Huh?"
There was nothing there.
Just empty space.
Then—
The air split.
Like a curtain being pulled aside, the outline of a massive structure revealed itself. A tall, silent building shimmered into existence—cold gray walls, sharp edges, no windows facing the street.
Wal's eyes widened.
The narrator's voice seemed to echo in the silence.
This building was their hideout.
An eight-storey structure hidden from the world.
Made invisible so no one—villains or civilians—could ever notice its existence.
Wal swallowed.
"Ooohh… this building looks amazing."
Loki glanced at him.
"I know," he said.
"Now leave him to me."
He adjusted Cris on his shoulder and stepped toward the entrance.
Wal didn't move.
"…No."
Loki stopped.
Wal took a step back instinctively.
"I don't want to come inside this weird building," Wal said slowly.
"There's something wrong with it."
Loki turned fully now.
Wal pressed a hand to his chest.
"I can sense something… a weird aura. Cold. Heavy. Like it's watching me."
Silence.
Loki stared at him.
"…Wait," he said.
"You can sense auras?"
Wal nodded.
"And you're still standing?"
Wal gave an awkward smile.
"Yeah," he said.
"I'm built different."
For the first time—
Loki looked genuinely surprised.
The building's invisible walls pulsed faintly, reacting to Wal's presence.
Deep inside, something shifted.
And far above them—
Unseen eyes noticed.
Loki:
"Alright. If you say your body is built differently…
then tell me—can you withstand my punch?"
Without giving even a second of warning—
⚡ CRACKLE.
Electricity surged around Loki's fist.
He vanished.
A thunder-charged punch shot straight toward Wal's face.
But—
Wal's eyes sharpened.
He twisted his body at the last moment, narrowly dodging the strike.
The electric shock grazed his forehead, sparks exploding across his skin.
Wal slid back, boots scraping the floor.
Instinctively, he raised his fist—
ready to counter.
But he stopped.
Wal:
"…Hey. That hurts a lot. Why did you hit me?"
Loki slowly straightened, electricity fading from his hand.
Loki:
"Just a test."
He turned away.
Loki:
"To measure your endurance… your defense level."
Loki glanced back over his shoulder.
Loki:
"You're allowed to enter this building."
Wal froze for a second—then smiled weakly.
Wal:
"Heh… finally.
I can enter this house."
After Wal stepped inside the building—
The moment his eyes adjusted—
He was mesmerized.
The interior felt unreal.
Silent. Vast. Almost divine.
Then—
Wal noticed something strange.
A gaming setup, glowing softly in the center of the room.
His heartbeat slowed.
Something about this place felt important.