The darkness shattered like a glass.
One moment, Dario Kosta was drowning in sensory deprivation of a dome of darkness, a void where even his own breath had been swallowed by the absence of sound and light. The next, the world roared back into existence.
His lungs burned as oxygen flooded back in, his vision sharpened against the sudden glare of daylight, his ears rang as the distant crumbling of stone and some panicked voices filled his ears.
"Where the hell did Alfred find such an insidious brat."
His big boots had just hit the pavement, and the ground beneath him groaned in rebuttal. The air quickly burned and smelled of scorched earth, the aftermath of his own power straining against the confines of artificial night. He rolled his shoulders, cracked his neck, and exhaled through his nose.
Annoying.
His gaze swept the area around him. The building that was used as the Bureau's base was destroyed, most of it anyway. He didn't want to think of the lives that were potentially lost because of him.
The pillars as well as the president had most likely escaped, they would have been taken away as an alert would have gone out leading to a traveller class Ego user getting them all out of there.
And perched atop a half-collapsed wall, stood a young woman with a sharp black bob and a high-collard coat. Her fingers twitched at her sides, spectral hands flickered in and out of existence, showing she was anticipating an attack.
Dario knew her. She was Joanne Orlo. A highly sought out Ego user who is a teleporter.
Most likely the one who teleported the boys.
Dario grinned.
"Joanne," he called, his voice carrying across the wreckage like a lazy thunderclap. "Last time I saw you, you were still puking after teleporting. And your hands couldn't even lift a toddler through your spirals." He taunted the young girl. She should be in her late twenties now. "And now you think you can throw hands with a Warlord?"
Jo didn't smile. She didn't flinch. But that didn't matter. With Dario's own powers and experience, he could tell that she was scared. She didn't want to fight him, but she was bought.
That was it, any and everyone can be bought as everyone is tied down by something. Alfred must have offered her something pretty bountiful.
Joanne continued to stay silent as she watched Dario with a sniper's precision.
"And here I thought I was the mysterious one." Dario chuckled.
He took a step forward,
And the air beside him warped.
A tall figure stepped out, silver-streaked hair framing hollow eyes, a greatcoat lined with 'quirky' funeral notices that were in tatters. It was Gold Rank Paladin, Ryan Veyne.
Dario didn't turn his head. "Still carrying all that luggage I see." Ryan was a man who couldn't let go of his past. The grief was his to bear and he didn't want to let it go.
Ryan's voice was soft and weary. "Some of us do not want to forget Dario."
Dario sighed. He knew of Ryan's Ego. [Stop For Death]. It was a nuisance, not a threat, a big delay. A speed bump. Dario remembered hearing of it and wanted to test out how he would fare against the lad at the time. Dario thought he would put him out for the night with one little detonation, only for the blast to stutter mid-air, its force then becoming diluted, its impact slowed just enough for Ryan to sidestep it.
But Ryan was within distance now. And Dario wasn't in the mood for delays today.
He felt the star shaped rune appear within his radius, on Ryan's shoulder. But then Ryan was dragged back with another of Joanne's hands through a portal before Dario could detonate. Dario couldn't sense Ryan or his star.
With his star out of his radius for more than ten seconds it would then disappear which would then force it to disappear.
He blasted himself backward with a controlled explosion at his feet, rocketing through the air like a human comet. Ryan vanished into the portal but Dario's senses were keen, he knew if he were close enough he would sniff him out.
He laughed, even knowing he could sense both Ruben and Corbin stuck in their own fight much farther away. Since they were so inexperienced, they weren't able to hide their presence as well with their lack of control over their Egos.
Dario soared, the wind screaming in his ears, the cityscape blurring beneath him. He wanted altitude. Wanted more space.
Another swirl of distorted air opened in front of him.
Dario barely had time to register the figure stepping through, he was a pale and androgynous person, clad in a slim top that didn't cover his stomach and shorts. He was tall, not as tall as Ryan but still tall.
Dario didn't want to waste any more time trying to get to know new enemies.
He threw a punch, not a testing jab, not a warning shot. A full-force punch enhanced with his explosions. The impact would be lethal. As he aimed for it to be. The kind that could level a city block.
The moment his knuckles connected with the young man's raised palm, his vision flipped.
He felt pain.
Not the clean, fiery burst of a swift and hard punch. Or the shock a bullet would give, Dario would have been immune to that anyway. This pain rattled his bones, shook his teeth, sent jagged lightning up his arm and into his chest like a grenade going off inside his ribcage.
His vision whited only for a fraction of a second, and when it cleared, the ground rushed to meet him.
All that distance he made from his initial landing from the black sphere and he was now back in the same area.
That punch that was meant to devastated his opponent through many solid buildings, it turned on him instead.
Dario landed and flipped up to his feet quickly with no bruise on his outer body. He looked up to where the young man had been standing, his top unflattering.
Dario exhaled, and then let out a loud laugh.
"You rebounded my own attack back at me." He flexed his fingers, feeling the aftershocks of his own power vibrating in his joints. "Never thought I'd get to taste my own explosions like that. That's a cool power kid."
Otto tilted his head. His voice was singsong, almost dreamy. "Thanks for liking it." He didn't seem like he truly cared. Dario didn't know this one, but he knew his type. He was only working as a Paladin as a provider, he most likely messed up in his past and was working his way back into the good graces after being given a chance. "But we should get along with this fight, I want to get home before my sister gets back from school."
Dario grinned. "Shame. We maybe could have had a sit down and spoken about our dreams."
Dario was counting. There was Joanne's teleportation. Ryan's delay. And this young man's reflection.
And they were just playing hit and run tactics so far.
That wasn't enough for him though. It wouldn't be enough to contain him. So he was keeping his guard up.
He cracked his neck.
"You wanna know my dream?" He asked.
The lone boy shook his head to say no. Unlike Jo, this one didn't seem scared, he just stood there like a ghost, watching and waiting for you to look away so he can continue with whatever he was doing prior.
Dario began to speak anyway. "I want to work to improve this society. I want to empty my dirty closet and gain peace of mind while restoring everything I have broken. And I want to hold up this nation as it lives out its days in peace."
"Too bad." The young man said. "After today that won't be possible for you sir."
Dario blinked and breathed out a long sigh. And then he listened some more.
"My name's Otto Dusk. And my goal is to provide a simple and happy life for my sister and mother that wasn't possible until now." He then pointed to Dario. "If that involves facing off against the number one, then so be it. The payout's gonna be great this time."
***
The ground erupted before Otto could vanish.
Dario's foot slammed into the pavement like a meteor strike, and the world detonated in a firestorm of shattered concrete and swirling dust.
The shockwave tore through the street, ripping fronts from buildings, uprooting lampposts, sending a rolling tsunami of debris outward in every direction.
Otto's eyes widened, just for a fraction of a second, as the blast wave hit him, his body jerking mid-retreat, Jo's spectral hands flickering as the teleportation was destabilized in fear.
Dario was there.
His hand closed around Otto's throat before the dust had even settled, fingers clamping down like steel vices. There was no hesitation, no dramatic pause, just motion, brutal and efficient. He yanked Otto from the dissipating portal with a single pull, the young man's coat tearing at the seams as Jo's ghostly grip failed.
The air cracked as Dario kicked off the ground, explosive propulsion launching them skyward in a straight vertical line, the ruined streets shrinking beneath them in an instant.
Otto gasped, a wet, ragged sound, as the wind screamed past his ears. His hands scrabbled at Dario's wrist, fingers clawing, but the warlord didn't flinch. His grip was absolute. His expression was calm.
And then the explosions started.
Not the grand, city-leveling detonations Dario was known for. No, these were precise. Surgical. Tiny stars flickering to life across Otto's body, his ribs, his collarbone, the base of his spine, each one igniting in rapid succession, a chain reaction of contained fury.
The first blast tore through Otto's side, ripping through muscle and sinew, the force concentrated enough to avoid outright killing him but just enough to make it hurt. The second detonated against his sternum, rattling his bones, forcing a scream from his lips that was lost in the roar of the next explosion, this one against his thigh, shredding fabric and flesh.
Otto's body jerked like a puppet with its strings cut, his Ego flaring instinctively, reflecting each detonation back at Dario with twice the force.
The warlord grinned as the pain hit him.
His ribs groaned. His muscles seized. His vision blurred for a heartbeat as the compounded force of his own power wracked his body, but he didn't let go. He rolled with it, riding the pain like a surfer on a wave, his grip never loosening.
Because Otto's Ego lacked one thing, it couldn't rebound what Dario was willing to endure.
Below them, the skeletal remains of the BPA's headquarters loomed, a gutted husk of its former self, its once-proud architecture reduced to jagged spires of broken steel and glass. Dario adjusted his trajectory, angling their descent, and slammed Otto through the nearest gaping wound in the building's side.
The impact was catastrophic.
Otto's back cratered the reinforced concrete, the force of their landing spiderwebbing cracks through the entire floor. Dust and debris rained down around them as Dario finally released his grip, letting Otto slump to the ground, his body trembling, his breaths shallow and wet. The young man's face, usually so eerily composed, was twisted in pain, his lips parted in a silent scream, his dark eyes widened with something between shock and disbelief.
Dario crouched beside him. Leaned in.
"Sorry about that," he muttered, almost gentle. "But you really shouldn't have gotten involved."
Then he grabbed Otto by the collar and hurled him back toward the shattered opening, straight at Joanne, who had just reappeared on the street below.
Joanne's eyes widened as Otto's body tumbled toward her. She knew, she saw the faint glow of the one of Dario's star shaped runes left on the back of Otto's coat, small and subtle, primed to detonate the moment it was within range.
She didn't hesitate.
A hand appeared at her back dragging her through her portal. Otto crashed into the spot where she'd been standing. The rune detonated, a controlled burst, enough to send Otto skidding across the pavement, but not enough to kill him.
Dario straightened, dusting off his coat, when the air warped beside him.
Ryan Veyne materialized mid-lunge, his gaunt face set in a grim and odd determination. His Ego activated, and for a heartbeat, Dario felt his movements stutter, his muscles locked up.
That was a big mistake for Ryan.
A star shaped rune ignited on Ryan's stomach before he could react, bright, vicious, a brand of impending annihilation.
Dario didn't wait for the detonation.
He twisted, driving his elbow into Ryan's jaw, feeling bone crack under the impact, and then,
BOOM.
The explosion ripped through the already crumbling building, the force hurling Ryan backward like a ragdoll, his body smashing through three consecutive walls before finally coming to rest in a heap of shattered plaster and twisted rebar.
Jo's scream echoed from somewhere below. "RYAN!"
Dario didn't linger. He stepped through the gaping hole in the building's side, his boots scraping against broken glass, his coat flaring behind him as he dropped to the street below.
And then another appeared.
A portal spiraled open behind Dario and a big hand released who seamlessly walked from it. Adrian Wolfe.
Dario sensed the attack before it came. He felt the shift in the air, the pressure building, the energy coiling in Adrian's fist like a spring wound to its breaking point.
He dodged, twisting his body to the side as Adrian's punch smashed into the space where his head had been.
The air itself ruptured.
A shockwave tore through the street, the sheer force of the blow carving a trench in the pavement, shattering windows for blocks, sending a gust of wind so violent it uprooted trees.
Dario landed five meters away, his boots skidding against the rubble. His eyes locked onto Adrian's, and he had felt a deep and dark sadness flicker in his chest.
Adrian Wolfe.
"You're still following their orders like a dog," Dario said, his voice low, almost disappointed.
Adrian exhaled, rolling his shoulders, his massive frame coiled with barely restrained power. "Just doing my job."
Dario shook his head. "No. You're not." His gaze hardened. "You're acting like a coward. You're drowning in guilt, letting it dictate every move you make. Tell me, what would your daughter think if she could see your past?"
"What would those random brats think if they saw your's?"
Touché.
Adrian's jaw tightened. A flicker of something raw and wounded flashed in his eyes, just for a moment, before it was buried beneath layers of cold resolve. "Let me do my job."
Dario sighed. "Fine."
Then he moved.
Adrian met him head on.
Their fists collided in mid-air, a shockwave detonating between them, the force of the impact sending cracks racing through the ground beneath their feet. Dario twisted, driving his knee toward Adrian's ribs, but Adrian shifted, catching the blow on his forearm, countering with a brutal elbow aimed at Dario's temple.
Dario ducked, retaliating with a point-blank explosion to Adrian's stomach.
Adrian folded, just slightly, before his Ego, [Iron & Wine] absorbed the force, his body storing the explosion's energy, adding it to the reservoir of a lifetime's worth of motion. He retaliated instantly, his next punch carrying the compounded weight of every step he'd taken for the last two months.
Dario dodged. The force of the missed strike split the street behind him, a chasm tearing open in the earth.
"You can't beat me," Dario said, circling, his voice calm. "You know that."
Adrian didn't respond. He lunged again, his movements a blur, his fists carving through the air like sledgehammers. Dario weaved between the strikes, countering with controlled bursts of explosive force, each detonation strategically placed to keep Adrian off-balance.
But Adrian was relentless.
He pushed, his attacks coming faster, harder, each blow carrying the weight of so much accumulated momentum. A kick that could level a building. A punch that could crater a city block.
Dario met every strike with precision, his second ego, Revelation, was guiding him and letting him see the patterns in Adrian's movements, the slight hesitations, the tells. He ducked under a haymaker, retaliated with a spinning kick that sent Adrian skidding back, then pressed the advantage, closing the distance in an instant.
His fist connected with Adrian's jaw.
CRACK.
Adrian's head snapped back, blood spraying from his lips, but he dug his heels in, refusing to fall. His hand shot out, fingers clamping around Dario's wrist, holding him in place as he yanked him forward,
And headbutted him.
Dario's vision flashed white. Pain exploded behind his eyes, his nose breaking under the impact, blood streaming down his face. He staggered back, just a step, before regaining his footing, his grin never fading.
"Good." He spat, wiping the blood from his lips. "Finally showing some spine."
Adrian's chest heaved. His knuckles were split, his face a mess of bruises and cuts. But his eyes were alive, burning with something Dario hadn't seen in years.
Fury.
Dario laughed. "There he is."
Adrian raised his left hand.
The motion was simple, but it pulled at a chain of memories that Dario had not allowed himself to revisit in years.
He remembered the first time he'd seen that same arm lifted, over twenty years ago, back when Adrian Wolfe was planning on taking the trials to become a Paladin, he was just a recruit among the dozen.
Dario had been told to look over the fresh batch, to see if any had the potential to stand beside him in the coming years, usually the answer was no. And even then, it still was, but that didn't mean that he couldn't see the promise in the people like Adrian.
He remembered watching the young man back then. He was certain Adrian would become a key pillar to the nation. It was exciting.
How tragic their lives had turned out.
He wished he had understood it better then.
The fist came down.
Dario's palm was already open, heat rippling across his knuckles as an explosion the size of a collapsing sun detonated point-blank. The blast struck Adrian's descending arm like a battering ram, hurling him backwards in a spray of shattered brick and pulverized pavement.
Before Adrian could recover, Dario stretched his hand forward, his fingers curling as if grasping an invisible thread. Star-shaped bursts ignited across Adrian's frame, chest, shoulders, thighs, even along the arch of his boots, and each erupted in a staccato rhythm of concussive detonations, hammering him mid-flight.
Adrian's boots gouged twin trenches into the street as he landed, but Dario was already there, closing the distance in a blink. His heel hit the ground and launched him upward in an explosive surge, his leg snapping out in a brutal kick to Adrian's jaw.
The impact drove Adrian's airborne, his body twisting violently before Dario appeared above him, both boots slamming into his sternum with enough force to send him crashing through the remainder of the battered block.
The street split like glass, building along the edges collapsing inward, their frames bending under the shockwaves.
Dario hovered, dust and ember drifting around him, and let his eyes sweep the city below. Almost half this district lay broken, fractured streets like veins of ruin, towers shorn in half, fire blooming from ruptured gas lines.
Movement in the rubble.
Adrian pushed himself to his feet, blood running from the corner of his mouth, his stance low and predatory. He burst forward with a speed that warped the air, his muscles coiling and releasing with terrifying economy.
"I told you before Adrian." Dario's voice cut through the mess and chaos, sharp and heavy. "I am your better."
Another explosion snapped into existence at Adrian's feet, the concussive wave throwing him back, but Adrian didn't retreat. He pressed forward through the blast, eyes locked on Dario like an animal that had finally scented blood.
"They think you're the closest to me in strength within this nation," Dario continued, his voice calm and even as the ground split beneath Adrian's approach. "Maybe that's true." His grin was sharp as broken glass. "But the distance between us is a gap you will never close."
Then he dropped.
He hit like a meteor, the air itself compressing into a shriek before shattering on impact. His arm hooked around Adrian's neck, dragging him down through the roof of a four story building.
Floors exploded into splinters and dust as they punched through, each impact ringing with the force of a demolition charge until they slammed into the base.
Adrian hit hard, the wind torn from his lungs in a wet gasp. Blood flecked his lips, his breath ragged.
"I won't kill you," Dario said, his voice low enough for only the two of them to hear. "I can't do that to you."
Adrian's lips moved, the words too faint to catch. Dario leaned closer…
A flash of silver.
He craned his neck just in time, the blade of a long knife hissing past his ear close enough to slice loose strands of hair. The wall behind him exploded into shards.
Adrian's heel shot forward, the kick like a steel ram. Dario vaulted over it, feeling the rush of displaced air whip his coat as the strike tore into the support beam behind him. The building groaned and collapsed, a deafening roar of steel and stone giving way.
They split apart in the falling wreckage.
Smoke poured across the ruined street, choking and thick, curling around the fractured silhouettes of the combatants. And in that haze… Dario felt it.
Not the brute-force presence of Adrian, but something sharper. Quick too. The person carried a thread of danger sliding across his senses like a drawn blade.
He turned left. Nothing.
Right. Gone again.
Twice more, the blur darted into the edges of his awareness, there, always gone before his muscles could even fire. And then, without thinking, he followed his Revelation.
The world slowed. Tiny disturbances in the air, the faint whirl of dust pulled by a body's passage, the subtle shift of light bending around an almost imperceptible shape, all of it mapped in his mind in luminous precision.
And she was now there. Stood still.
She looked impossibly young, the youngest person on the battlefield, probably the age of Ruben and Corbin, but shorter. Seventeen at most, her frame was slim and taut like a coiled spring, her stance casual in a way that was deliberate, calculated. Her hair was a silver-white that caught the light of burning buildings, the ends fading to a soft lavender. Two long locks framed her sharp, heart-shaped face, while the rest was cut clean to her shoulders. Her eyes, they were a deep violet, almost luminescent, they studied Dario like a puzzle she was already piecing together.
She wore a close-fitted black combat jacket traced with faint lines. Metal plates covered her forearms and shins, she was dressed more so for speed rather than defense.
She stood exactly ten meters away, just beyond the range where Dario's stars would appear.
Her lips were curled into a playful grin. She bowed, lowly and almost disoriented like she had never done so before.
"Nika Laurent," she said, her voice was very sing-song and yet edged with steel. "A pleasure to meet you."
Dario's brow furrowed, but his surprise was clear.
She straightened, tilting her head like a cat toying with a small mouse. "I'm their ace."