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Panic spread through New Metro First High like wildfire. Teachers clutched their phones, students pressed against windows, and everyone wondered the same thing: What the hell just exploded at our gate?
Russell's mental power swept outward, mapping the threat instantly. His expression darkened.
Sect of Unification. Here. At my old school.
The demonic energy signature was unmistakable—that grotesque blend of human and demon that marked the Sect's handiwork. But why attack a random high school? Blake had warned him about potential Sect presence around Soochow, but New Metro was supposed to be safe. This made no tactical sense unless...
Unless they're after me.
Without hesitation, Russell melted into the shadows.
Back in the senior classroom, chaos threatened to overwhelm reason.
"What's happening to Ms. Song?" a student asked, voice cracking with fear. "Is she okay? Should we help?"
Most of the class were still iron-level cardmakers—kids who'd never seen real combat, never entered a pocket dimension, never faced anything more dangerous than a pop quiz. They had no framework for processing actual danger.
"It might be a pocket dimension breach," Victoria said, forcing calm into her voice despite her racing heart. "Everyone stay in the classroom. Do NOT go outside."
She paused at the door, uncertainty flickering across her face. If this was a real invasion, the emergency alert system should have triggered by now. Every phone in the city should be screaming warnings. The silence was almost more terrifying than alarms would have been.
I have to check. These are my students.
She stepped into the hallway, leaving thirty teenagers to their mounting panic.
"Should we follow her?" someone suggested, already half-standing.
"If we go out there, we'll just get in teachers way," Nancy said sharply, her father's training showing through. As a gold-level cardmaker's daughter, she understood combat zones. "Ms. Song said stay put. So we stay put."
"But what if—"
"No buts. Ms. Song can handle this better without worrying about protecting us."
At the school gate, security guard Zeke contemplated his life choices.
He was paid to check IDs and stop teenagers from skipping class. His job description said nothing about demons, explosions, or whatever that thing was that had just turned their nice iron gate into abstract art.
But they do pay me really well for a security guard...
Duty won over self-preservation. Barely. He ducked into the communication room and grabbed the phone with shaking hands.
"Director, we have a... situation. Something landed at the gate. Big something. Scary something. You should probably tell everyone to hide."
"Zeke, are you drunk?"
"I wish. Just... trust me on this one."
"Alright, stay safe. We're on our way."
The line went dead. Zeke peered through the window, trying to assess the threat level, and nearly had a heart attack.
A kid was standing right there. Twenty feet from whatever had crashed their party.
"DIRECTOR!" Zeke screamed into the phone. "There's a student at the gate!"
"WHAT!? How— Can you get him out of there?"
Zeke looked at the demon-thing, then at Russell, then at his own very mortal body.
"Director, with all due respect, I don't get paid enough to fight demons. Also, he's way too close to it. If I go out there, we'll both die."
Through the clearing smoke, the threat finally revealed itself. Zeke's brain struggled to process what he was seeing. It was like someone had tried to make a centaur but used a wolf instead of a horse and forgot to read the instructions. Human torso, wolf everything else, all wrong in ways that made his eyes hurt.
Then things got weird.
Well, weirder.
"A Sect of Unification member," Russell said conversationally, like identifying a species of butterfly rather than an abomination.
This one was new. He'd seen the crude surgical hybrids, but this seemed more... integrated. Like the transformation was voluntary rather than inflicted.
"The southern trash can actually recognize us!" The werewolf's voice was pure manic aggression, all predator and no humanity. "I'm impressed! Not that it'll help you!"
Russell sighed. Why do they always want to talk first?
Black and red liquid erupted from his skin, consuming his human form in seconds. Arrogance rebuilt him from the ground up—taller, stronger, monstrous. His voice became a harmony of tones, human and other.
"I wanted to ask why you're here," the merged voice said. "But honestly? I think I'll just beat you within an inch of your life first. We can chat after."
The werewolf's danger sense, what little remained of it, screamed. He moved on instinct, dodging right—
SCHLIIING!
His arm sailed through the air, severed cleanly at the shoulder. It took him a full second to realize what had happened, another second to start screaming.
"AAAARRRGGHHHH!"
"You idiot," Russell's cold voice cut through the howls. "Did you really think I was going to fight fair? What is this, an anime?"
Around him, his cards materialized. Artoria stood with Caliburn still glowing from the cut, Fubuki maintaining an invisible barrier, Unohana watching with that unsettling smile that could mean healing or death. The werewolf hadn't even seen Artoria approach—Fubuki's barrier had hidden her completely, and Russell's presence had masked her energy signature.
In the guard room, Zeke's jaw dropped so far it nearly dislocated.
"Director," he said weakly, "the student... uh... he solved the demon problem. You might want to see this."
"We're here," Director Chen said from directly behind him, making Zeke jump and hit his head on a shelf.
The tiny communication room was suddenly packed with school leadership. Principal Shepherd, Victoria Song, and half the administrative staff crowded around the window like kids at a zoo exhibit.
"Ms. Song," the Principal whispered, "that IS Russell, right?"
Victoria hesitated. The black-red monster bore no resemblance to the student she'd taught. But those cards...
"It should be. I think. Maybe?"
She'd never seen him use this form. None of them had. This was post-Northgate Russell, and the power difference was staggering.
SQUELCH.
The sound of regenerating flesh was uniquely disgusting. A new arm burst from the werewolf's shoulder, bones extending, muscles wrapping, skin spreading like time-lapse photography of rot in reverse.
"I'll kill you!" Saliva flew from his maw, sizzling where it hit the ground. "I'LL RIP YOU APART!"
His eyes blazed brighter red, reason drowning in rage.
"Already going feral?" Russell noted clinically. "That was fast. Unohana, if you would?"
"Bakudō #90: Kurohitsugi."
A black box materialized around the werewolf, surfaces covered in shadow spears that pierced inward. The werewolf's screams became muffled, then stopped entirely. When the box dissolved, he was more meat than monster, barely breathing.
"Don't come out yet," Russell commanded, sensing the school staff about to emerge.
They froze in place, confused. The werewolf looked thoroughly defeated. What more could—
The werewolf sprang up like nothing had happened, injuries healing at visible speed.
"Gotcha!" He laughed, a sound like grinding glass. "You're strong, sure. But killing is easy. PROTECTING? That's ten thousand times harder!"
He launched himself at the nearest classroom building, claws extended to bisect the structure and everyone inside.
In Mr. Williams' third-year classroom, thirty students watched death approach in slow motion.
The werewolf was massive, claws gleaming, trajectory perfect. They were going to die. Their last thought would be about how they should have skipped school today.
Then a breeze touched their faces, gentle as a mother's kiss.
Fubuki's telekinetic barrier snapped into place, invisible but absolute. The werewolf's claws shattered against it, sending him tumbling backward with several broken fingers.
"How bad can one be" Russell's overlapping voice carried across the campus. "Trying to kill children to get to me? You scum really have no standards."
Students and teachers flooded to the windows and corridor railings, drawn by morbid curiosity and the realization they weren't dead.
"It's God-Russell!" someone shouted, recognizing the figure despite the monstrous form.
"Holy shit, he's even scarier in person!"
"Those are the cards from the Wade fight!"
"We're saved! We're actually saved!"
Mr. Williams stared at his former student, remembering the kid who'd been so proud of making a purple-quality card . The teenager who'd worried about college applications and homework.
"You really grew up," he whispered, not sure if he meant it as praise or lament.
In the crowd, Marvin felt his face burn with embarrassment. He'd spent the whole year telling everyone Russell was a dropout, a failure, someone who'd peaked in high school. He'd mocked him on the bus, spread rumors about him working minimum wage.
I'm such an asshole.
"Neliel," Russell said quietly. "End this."
Light-red spiritual pressure erupted skyward, a pillar of power that made every cardmaker in the school step back instinctively. The air itself seemed to hold its breath.
"Sing, Gamuza."
The transformation was instant and overwhelming. Where a child-like figure had stood, now there was something divine and terrible. Half-human, half-antelope, all predator. The spiritual pressure alone drove several students to their knees.
The werewolf's confidence evaporated. "Shit. Didn't expect an Espada-level card."
But his real concern wasn't Neliel—it was Fubuki. His entire plan had hinged on taking hostages, forcing Russell to hold back. But that telekinetic barrier made the strategy worthless. He couldn't threaten what he couldn't touch.
"Changed your mind about that tough guy act?" Russell asked, reading the fear perfectly. "Too bad. Neliel?"
She moved faster than thought. One moment she stood beside Russell, the next her double-headed lance had skewered the werewolf like a cocktail olive. He hung there, gasping, blood streaming down the weapon's shaft.
"GAAHHHH!"
With desperate strength, he grabbed the lance and pulled himself down its length, tearing his own torso open wider but freeing himself. He landed hard, clutching the gaping hole in his chest.
I picked the wrong target. This isn't some talented student—this is a monster wearing a student's life.
"Tactical retreat," he gasped, preparing to leap away.
Russell smiled. "Finally."
He'd been waiting for this. Killing the werewolf would be easy—one shot from Artoria would vaporize him. But the collateral damage would level half the school. Better to let him think he was escaping.
The werewolf turned and jumped, powerful legs launching him skyward—
Neliel materialized above him, lance glowing with spiritual power. She drove it down through his chest, using his own momentum against him. They plummeted together, werewolf screaming, lance driving deeper.
CRATER.
The playground ceased to exist. In its place was a perfectly circular pit, fifty feet wide and twenty deep. At the bottom, the werewolf lay pinned like a butterfly in a collection, Neliel's lance through his chest and into the earth below.
The entire school stood in stunned silence.
"Okay," Russell admitted, surveying the damage. "Maybe I overdid it a little."
The playground was gone. The track field was partially collapsed. Several windows had shattered from the shockwave.
"But I was protecting everyone! That counts for something, right? Insurance should cover this. Probably. Maybe."
He turned to Unohana. "Better make sure he stays put."
"Bakudō #75: Gochūtekkan."
Five iron pillars materialized and slammed down onto the werewolf's limbs and head, pinning him absolutely. His scream of agony echoed from the pit.
Russell dropped into the crater, landing beside his prisoner. Shadows fell across them both as he leaned close.
"Let's try this again. Why are you here? And why the dramatic entrance when you could have just attacked directly?"
The werewolf raised his head, blood streaming from his mouth but still smiling. That was never good.
"Because... we needed..."
His head exploded.
Gore splattered across Russell's Arrogance form, immediately absorbed by the symbiote. Where the werewolf's head had been, only smoke remained. The same self-destruct mechanism as the previous Sect members.
"Every. Fucking. Time." Russell sighed. "Why can't villains just monologue properly anymore?"
Above him, hundreds of students and teachers stared down at their former classmate, standing in a crater next to a headless corpse, looking more annoyed than disturbed.
Welcome home, Russell . Your old school missed you.
(End of this chapter)
PLZ THROW POWERSTONES.