The city never really sleeps.
But tonight, it felt like it was holding its breath.
Arin sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the cracked mirror opposite him. His reflection barely looked like him anymore—eyes shadowed, chest tight with an invisible weight he couldn't shake.
His phone buzzed again—another message from Kian. The same name, the same face he'd known since they were kids, but something inside that boy had already shattered.
We can't keep running.
Arin's fingers trembled as he typed back.
Then we face it.
He pressed send, heart pounding like a drum in his ears.
Outside, the city hummed with rumors and fear. The crater in the White Zone was already being called a disaster, a terrorist attack, maybe even the start of something worse. But Arin knew the truth.
It wasn't just an attack. It was the beginning of a war nobody asked for.
Kian's world was a different kind of chaos.
The smoldering ruins of the White Zone stretched before him like a graveyard. The air tasted of burnt metal and ash. Flames licked at the edges of twisted steel beams, and the distant wail of sirens echoed through the empty streets.
He stood alone, but not lonely. The power inside him pulsed like a live wire, waiting to be unleashed.
"They call me a monster," Kian whispered, voice rough with exhaustion.
A bitter laugh escaped his lips. "Maybe I am. But who else will do what's necessary?"
The truth settled around him like a shroud: He was the reckoning. The inevitable. The destruction that must come to save what was left.
He clenched his fists, energy shimmering beneath his skin. The city was fragile — a glass ball teetering on the edge of oblivion.
And I hold the hammer.
Arin's phone lit up again. A call this time.
He hesitated.
His finger hovered over the answer button, then pressed it.
"Kian."
The line crackled. Static.
Then a voice, familiar but distant.
"We have to meet," Kian said. "Before it's too late."
Arin swallowed hard.
"Where?"
"Outskirts. Near the old train station. Midnight."
The line went dead.
The night air was thick with tension as Arin approached the meeting place.
The city skyline stretched behind him, a sea of lights swallowed by shadows. Every step echoed in the silence — his heartbeat, the distant sirens, the universe itself.
He reached the platform — abandoned, cracked concrete beneath his feet, graffiti fading in the moonlight.
And there he was.
Kian.
The boy who once dreamed of stars with him.
But now, the light in his eyes was gone — replaced by something fierce, untamed, and terrifying.
"You shouldn't have come," Kian said, voice low.
"I had to," Arin replied, steady but weary.
Kian laughed — a sound sharp and bitter.
"This ends tonight."
Arin squared his shoulders.
"We don't have to be enemies."
Kian's eyes flared with anger.
"Save your lies, Arin. You've already chosen your side."
The air between them thickened — charged with something ancient and powerful.
Arin felt the weight pressing down on him, gravity bending toward his will.
Kian's energy burned bright — destructive, volatile, impossible to ignore.
Without warning, Kian slammed his palm into the ground.
The concrete cracked, shattering into dust that drifted like ash.
Arin's eyes narrowed.
He raised a hand.
The air twisted — invisible but heavy.
The ground beneath Kian rippled, as if pulled by a force unseen.
Kian staggered.
Arin pressed the advantage, gravity crushing at Kian's chest.
"Enough!" Kian roared, energy flaring like a star ready to collapse.
A blast of light exploded from his hands, pushing Arin back.
The force sent shockwaves through the platform, glass shattering miles away.
They were no longer boys with dreams.
They were forces of nature — unstoppable, opposite, locked in a battle where every strike was a clash of ideals.
Arin struggled to breathe beneath the crushing gravity.
Kian's eyes burned with fierce determination.
"This world doesn't need control," Kian shouted. "It needs freedom. Even if it destroys itself."
Arin's voice was calm, cold.
"Freedom without order is chaos. And chaos is death."
They circled each other like predators.
The city below unaware that its fate was being decided far above.
Suddenly, Kian's form blurred.
He vanished.
Arin's heart skipped.
Seconds later, a sudden tremor — an earthquake shaking the ground beneath them.
Kian appeared behind him, fists glowing with annihilation energy.
Arin barely reacted.
He twisted, throwing a crushing wave of gravity at Kian.
The collision lit the night sky — a silent explosion of light and shadow.
For a moment, time froze.
The universe held its breath.
And then—
They crashed again.
The battle was brutal, not just physical but mental.
Every move carried the weight of billions of lives.
Every strike echoed with questions:
Who is the hero?
Who is the villain?
And does it even matter anymore?
Hours passed like minutes.
The city trembled with their power.
But both knew — this was only the beginning.
When dawn broke, they would no longer be just two boys chasing comets.
They would be legends.
Or ghosts.
Arin fell to his knees, chest heaving.
He looked at Kian, who stood tall but breathing hard.
"We're not the same," Arin said, voice breaking.
Kian smiled grimly.
"Good. Because if we were… this would already be over."
As the sun rose, the world awakened to a new nightmare.
Two forces born from the sky.
Bound by friendship.
Separated by fate.
And destined to decide what "saving the world" truly means.