The moment Kaito opened his eyes, the world felt different. The pain that had coursed through him for weeks, the confinement, the chemical surge in his veins—they all seemed to amplify rather than diminish. He could feel it, deep within his chest, an unfamiliar rhythm—a pulse of energy that resonated with the eclipse above. The sky darkened, shadows stretching unnaturally across the old town, and a strange, glowing light began to suffuse the air around him.
Arthur, still groggy from unconsciousness, blinked rapidly as he tried to comprehend the scene. "Kaito…?" His voice was barely audible, but it trembled with confusion and fear. The boy he knew—the quiet, calculating Kaito—was trembling, but it wasn't fear. It was…something else. Something that Arthur couldn't name.
Kaito's crimson eyes opened fully, replacing the familiar black with a molten, glowing intensity. The very air around him seemed to vibrate, reacting to his presence, the faint outlines of energy crackling along his arms. He sensed a surge—something immense, unstoppable, thrumming in rhythm with the solar-lunar alignment above. He tried to speak, but the words failed him. Panic rose. He pushed Arthur away with a force that surprised even himself, the boy barely catching himself from being flung across the room.
Arthur stumbled, eyes wide, as Kaito moved toward the edge of the tower. "Kaito, wait! What—what's happening to you?!"
But Kaito couldn't stop. Not now. The energy that coursed through him had a mind of its own, a relentless tide that refused restraint. With a sudden leap, he vaulted from the edge of the tower, expecting to fall, but instead the air itself seemed to carry him. Gravity warped, and his body hovered, suspended as though some unseen force had claimed him.
Below, chaos erupted. Citizens and onlookers who had gathered in the old town square scattered, some screaming, others frozen with awe and terror. The sound of shattering wood and stone echoed as debris from nearby buildings shook under the force of the energy radiating from Kaito.
Arthur lunged toward him, only to be caught firmly by Alia and Mina. "Arthur! Stop!" Alia shouted, pulling him back. "You can't—he's not…himself right now!"
The boy struggled against their grip, panic bubbling in his chest. "But he's going to—he's going to—!"
Mina's eyes met his, sharp and commanding. "If you go near him, you'll die. Let us handle this." She dragged him toward the edge of the square, away from the epicenter of the energy. Arthur's eyes flicked back to Kaito, whose figure now floated like a dark, burning comet against the twilight sky. The air shimmered around him, heat radiating in waves, the eclipse's light bending unnaturally around the surge of power.
Kaito screamed, though it wasn't a sound of anger or pain—it was a primal, guttural sound, unrecognizable as human. The very town seemed to respond, tiles on roofs cracking, windows shattering, flames licking at the sides of nearby buildings. The ground beneath trembled violently, and a wave of energy shot outward, tossing anything unanchored into the air.
Through it all, Kaito's eyes glowed, crimson and unblinking. He couldn't control it. He had expected mastery over this power, after months of preparation, after the chemical enhancements, after the anticipation of this very eclipse. Yet the energy was bigger than him, consuming him, reshaping him, forcing him into a state of primal instinct. He tried to think, tried to ground himself, but the energy surged through him faster than thought could follow.
He was floating higher now, the city below a blur of smoke and fire, the eclipse's shadow cutting diagonally across the square. He raised his hands instinctively, and the energy answered, exploding outward in arcs of blinding light. A nearby building's roof caught fire instantly, wooden beams burning and collapsing. People screamed, diving for cover as the shockwave hit the streets.
Arthur's heart thudded painfully as he watched, unable to move beyond Alia and Mina's restraining grip. "Kaito…please…come back," he whispered, though it was swallowed in the roar of power. Tears threatened, but he couldn't cry, couldn't break down. He gritted his teeth, trying to focus on anything but the destruction unfolding before him.
Kaito's body shivered violently midair. Black veins spread across his skin like ink in water, pulsing with the energy that had overtaken him. His movements were erratic, jerking forward, backward, twisting in a dance he couldn't command. And then, as suddenly as it had begun, a wave of exhaustion hit him. His body sagged midair, and his consciousness fought desperately to maintain itself.
He tried to call out, to tell the energy to stop—but the words wouldn't form. The world was too loud, too bright, too immense. The eclipse's light reflected in his glowing crimson eyes, making him seem more predator than boy. He tried to think of Arthur, of Alia, of Mina—but the thought dissolved, replaced by the wild, consuming pulse of power.
Arthur screamed again, "Kaito!" The cry was torn from his throat as he strained against their grip. Mina's hand landed on his shoulder firmly. "Enough! If you try to run toward him, you're dead before you even reach him!"
Kaito's form quivered, a shudder rippling through the energy that surrounded him. Lightning-like tendrils shot outward, igniting everything in their path. The square below was now a scene of panic, fires burning in spirals, debris floating unnaturally as if caught in Kaito's gravitational pull.
And then, something shifted. The energy around him condensed, thick and molten, as though it was aware of his will—or perhaps aware of his inability to will it. His body trembled violently, and the crimson in his eyes deepened, glowing brighter than the eclipse itself. He felt his mind slipping further, memories and thoughts fragmenting. The boy who had been Kaito moments ago was buried beneath this force, leaving only instinct and raw, unbridled energy.
His limbs jerked involuntarily, and a massive arc of power shot skyward, illuminating the clouds above like a second sun. The people screaming below ducked and covered, shielding their eyes. Buildings several streets away rattled, their windows shattering under the pressure wave.
Arthur watched, frozen in horror. "He's…he's gone," he whispered, his voice trembling. The reality of Kaito's transformation—or rather, his loss of self—hit him like a physical blow. Mina and Alia exchanged a glance, grim and unyielding. They had seen power before, but never like this. Never such an overwhelming surge that defied comprehension.
As Kaito floated, he tried again to anchor himself, to bring himself back to consciousness, but the energy was relentless. A gnawing, chemical pain surged through him, a reminder of the pills, the experiments, the weeks of confinement. The pain should have grounded him—but now it was nothing compared to the storm raging inside. He became restless, thrashing against invisible chains, the crimson of his eyes bleeding into the sky like a herald of chaos.
The townspeople fled in every direction, some praying, some screaming, some simply frozen with awe and terror. From the corner where Arthur, Alia, and Mina huddled, the scene was apocalyptic, and yet, terrifyingly beautiful. The eclipse painted the sky in oranges and purples, reflecting off the wild energy that danced around Kaito.
Arthur's gaze never left him. "Please…Kaito, come back," he whispered again, tears finally spilling over. But Kaito's mind was a storm he could not reach. His body moved, his power surged, but his consciousness teetered on the edge. He was neither awake nor fully gone—trapped in the violent in-between of overwhelming energy and the human shell that could no longer contain it.
Alia's grip on Arthur tightened. "You have to stay here," she warned. "If he notices you, he might…" She didn't finish, but the implication was clear. They had to survive until he calmed down—or until something could pull him back.
Kaito's body rose higher, hovering above the old town, crimson eyes blazing. His breaths were ragged, uneven, and each movement released energy in waves that scorched the ground, bent the air, and shattered the silence of the eclipse. He couldn't stop himself. He didn't even know if he wanted to. The energy had become a part of him, yet he was still a prisoner to it.
And then, as the eclipse reached its zenith, a strange stillness fell. Kaito's energy, though still immense, began to pulse rhythmically, almost as if it were breathing. The crimson in his eyes flickered, momentarily dimming, giving a glimpse of the boy beneath the power. But just as quickly, the restlessness returned. His body convulsed, the energy lashing outward, forcing him into a state of chaos once again.
He was trapped. Conscious yet unconscious. Powerless yet terrifyingly potent. A living storm suspended in the sky, glowing crimson, shaking the world below.
And in the corner, Arthur could only watch, tears streaming, heart breaking, as the boy he knew was lost in the brilliance and terror of the eclipse.
----
The road was empty except for the low hum of the engine as Kuro drove. The city streets of the old town seemed unusually quiet, almost as if the chaos had not yet reached this far. Samuel sat rigidly in the passenger seat, eyes wide, a cold sweat coating his brow. The hum of the car was nothing compared to the thundering pulse in his chest—a pulse that mirrored what he had just witnessed from afar.
"What…what is this power?" Samuel asked again, his voice barely rising above a whisper, though the tremor betrayed the panic in him. He couldn't take his eyes off the faint but unmistakable glow emanating from the horizon. From their vantage point, just two kilometers away, he could see the faint outlines of buildings quivering, roofs splintering, the very air shimmering with heat and energy.
Kuro, hands gripping the steering wheel with an almost casual confidence, didn't look away from the road. His expression was unreadable, but the faintest curve of satisfaction tugged at the corner of his lips. "It's…eclipse power," he said, his voice low, measured, almost reverent. "Finally, we succeeded. We rewrote history today, Samuel."
Samuel's breath caught. "We…we did this? We did this? But…that boy…he—he's a monster! Look at what he's doing out there!"
"Yes," Kuro replied calmly. "And yet, it's beautiful, isn't it? All the months, all the experiments, all the manipulation of chemicals, timing, and alignment…It all leads to this. The eclipse amplifies energy beyond anything we could have imagined. Beyond even what Minister Brown believed possible."
Samuel's knuckles turned white as he gripped the edge of the door. "But…it's uncontrolled! He's floating…he's radiating…he could destroy everything! How can this be…ours? How can this be what we intended?"
Kuro's gaze darkened slightly. "Control is a relative term. For now, observe. He is the beacon, Samuel. And we…we are witnesses to history bending to our will."
Meanwhile, far across town, in a grand chamber that overlooked the city, Minister Brown paced restlessly. The normally calm, calculating man seemed anything but composed. His sharp eyes caught the pulse of crimson energy cutting through the eclipse-lit sky. His hand instinctively went to the curtains, pulling them aside, revealing the full spectacle: a wave of pure, unrestrained power, radiating outward, cracking rooftops, sending debris flying, the very air humming with energy.
"It can't be…" he muttered, voice tight with disbelief. "It's not possible. That…that power was supposed to be mine! How…how did he escape from me?"
He slammed a fist against the ornate desk in his chamber, the sound echoing against the walls, a small tremor rattling the window panes. Panic, rare for him, prickled under his skin. He pulled out his comm device and slammed a finger down. "Guren! Answer me!"
There was a long pause. On the other end, Guren's voice came, steady but tense. "Minister…Sir. What's happening?"
"I'll tell you what's happening!" Brown barked, irritation sharp in every syllable. "How is this power not mine? How is this radiating randomly? Get your men moving immediately! I want him captured—NOW!" His words were punctuated by the thrum of the energy beyond the city. "Take Regan, units 9 and 10. Kiyara and Riley, go with them! Do whatever is necessary, but capture him before…" His voice dropped to a growl, almost disbelief. "…before he becomes uncontainable!"
On the road, Kuro glanced at Samuel, who was gripping the seat, wide-eyed. The sight of the town below, tiny buildings trembling, flickers of energy bouncing across streets, had kept him frozen since the moment Kaito had emerged from the tower. "Do you see, Samuel?" Kuro asked, almost rhetorically. "That…that is the magnitude of eclipse power. Even Minister Brown cannot control it. Not even with all his resources, not even with everything we thought we knew."
Samuel's voice trembled. "It…It's insane…he's…he's not even conscious…he can't even control it…and yet…it's unstoppable! He could—he could wipe the entire town out! Why…why would we even…why would we do this?"
Kuro didn't answer immediately. His eyes, sharp and calculating, scanned the horizon where Kaito floated like a blazing comet. The crimson glow of his eyes cut through the darkening sky, the air around him thick with raw, untamed energy. Kuro's lips curled slightly in satisfaction. "Because power is never about morality, Samuel. It's about results. And look at this. Look at what we've created. History isn't written by the cautious or the moral—it's written by the bold. And today, we are bold."
In his chamber, Minister Brown's frustration mounted. He rubbed his temples, pacing furiously as he watched the pulse intensify. "This can't…It can't be…It was meant to obey me!" He spoke aloud, though the words sounded almost pitiful in the empty room. "I harnessed the eclipse for years…planned every single detail…how could he…how could a boy…escape my control?"
Guren's voice came again through the comm. "Minister…Sir, the situation is unstable. The energy—" He hesitated, perhaps unsure how to describe what he saw. "It's radiating in all directions. It doesn't…respond to containment measures. Even if we send the entire police force, it may not be enough. We need a strategy…before…"
Brown's face twisted in irritation and fear. "Before what? Before he destroys everything? Before the world sees what we failed to claim? No! Move now! I don't care about the strategy! I want him captured! He's mine! This power is mine!"
At that exact moment, back on the road, Samuel's voice broke into Kuro's thoughts again. "Look at him…look at what he's doing…he's…he's a storm! He's floating! The buildings…he's…" His words trailed into a shudder. "He's…he's beyond anything we imagined…"
Kuro allowed a small, almost imperceptible smile. "Yes," he said softly. "Beyond anything we imagined. That's the point. Samuel…we've witnessed history bending. Not to us…but to him. And through him, our plans…our vision…everything we've orchestrated…will unfold."
Samuel's face went pale. "And if he…if he loses control?" His words barely left his lips.
"Then," Kuro said, calm as ever, "we adapt. We learn. We survive. Power of this magnitude is not meant to be simple or predictable. It's a test—and history favors the bold."
In the city, the crimson energy continued to pulse. The eclipse reached its zenith, a perfect circle of dark and light hovering in the sky, amplifying every ounce of power that Kaito now emitted. Even the distant government chambers trembled under the resonance, the windows rattling, the ceiling panels vibrating. Every officer in the nearby precincts felt a sudden chill, a thrum through the concrete and steel, the unmistakable signature of uncontrollable force.
Minister Brown gritted his teeth, pacing in his chamber like a caged lion. "How…how could this happen? It's…It's not fair! This power…this—this monstrosity should have obeyed me!" He slammed his fist into the desk again, the force shaking papers and devices, and he let out a long, frustrated growl. "Guren! Go now! Take everything—Regan, Kiyara, Riley! Capture him before…" He stopped, voice catching. "…before it's too late. I'm…screwed. If this spreads…if it grows…everything I've built, everything I've controlled…all of it…"
Samuel swallowed hard, eyes fixed on the crimson glow in the distance. "I…I can't believe this…he's…he's going to destroy everything, isn't he?"
Kuro's gaze didn't leave the horizon. "No, Samuel. He will change everything. And sometimes…changing everything is exactly what's needed."
Two kilometers away, the storm of energy continued to throb, a living pulse that defied containment. The eclipse framed it perfectly, turning Kaito into both a beacon and a threat. And as the red glow intensified, a single truth settled into everyone's mind: this was no longer a boy. This was something far beyond comprehension, beyond control, and the world—or at least the old town—would never be the same.
Minister Brown, Guren, Samuel, Kuro—all watched in their own ways, powerless to stop the tide that had been unleashed. And for the first time, history was rewriting itself not with careful planning, but with the raw, untamed pulse of eclipse power surging through the boy who had escaped their grasp.
---
The streets were not silent, but the sounds of everyday life had been replaced with screams, frantic footsteps, and the chaotic rumble of fear. People poured out of their homes, some shielding their eyes, others pressing together in small groups, their faces pale with disbelief. Windows rattled, doors slammed shut, and from every road, the distant thrum of energy from the old tower sent shivers through the hearts of the citizens.
"What…what is happening?" a middle-aged man shouted from his porch, clutching his wife's arm. The crimson light that washed over the town distorted everything it touched. "Is this…is this the end? Has the time come for us to go extinct?"
Children cried, and the elderly muttered prayers under their breaths, but the answers never came. Only the pulse of energy, a living, breathing force, dominated the town's skyline, and with it came terror.
From the police headquarters, the chatter over the radios was frantic. Sui Hiroshi, head officer and Kaito's father, leaned over the holographic map of the city, eyes narrowed. He could feel it before even seeing it—an insane surge of energy, radiating from the old tower building. It wasn't natural. It wasn't merely human. It was something…other.
"Send all available units," he barked, his voice sharp, slicing through the static of the room. "Reinforcements from the neighboring districts, now! Every squad, every officer—head to the old town. Contain it, secure the perimeter, and keep civilians away!"
The call went out immediately. The city's emergency channels blared warnings. Sirens echoed, drones deployed from command centers, and helicopters ascended into the crimson-lit sky, their spotlights trembling against the violent pulse of energy that lit up the night.
Meanwhile, in the living room of a small suburban home, Kaito's mother pressed herself against the wall, her hands trembling. The television, broadcasting live footage of the town, showed the glowing, floating figure above the old tower, the streets swarming with panic-stricken citizens. Her lips trembled as tears formed in the corners of her eyes.
"Kaito…is he there? Is he…safe?" she whispered, voice breaking. She sank onto the sofa, burying her face in her hands.
Her sixteen-year-old daughter, eyes wide with horror, gripped her mother's arm. "No! Mother, you wouldn't have send him there! He's just a boy! How can anyone send him into…into that?" Her voice rose, laced with desperation. "What is happening? I said he shouldn't even go outside! What is happening now?!"
Her mother shook her head, almost sobbing. "I…thought…if he just hung out with his friends a little…if he could smile, maybe…maybe he would recover from the kidnapping…from everything. I thought…" Her voice faltered as the energy on the screen grew brighter, shaking the town visibly even through the broadcast.
Far from this chaos, in a different country, an entirely different type of fear and anticipation simmered. A man stood alone alongside the prime ministers and top officials of his nation, his posture rigid, immaculate. He was clad in a black soldier's uniform, crisp and perfectly tailored, every button polished, every crease sharp. His hair was black, neatly combed, and his eyes, also black, stared blankly ahead, masking thoughts that burned like fire. He appeared to be in his mid-thirties, the kind of man whose presence demanded attention without a word.
Yet he said nothing. He did not even glance at the others around him. The world could not touch the tension coiled within him. And then, in a low, almost reverent mutter, unheard by the officials surrounding him, he whispered to himself:
"The time has come…"
No one noticed. No one could. But his words, carried on the wind of his resolve, seemed to resonate with the world itself.
Meanwhile, halfway across the globe, in the dim, smoke-filled lights of an underground casino, a man with brown hair and eyes of equal depth shuffled cards on a polished mahogany table. The neon lights of the slot machines flickered across his sharp, calculated features. He was 180 centimeters tall, perfectly fit, a figure of composure and danger. The poker game ended, coins clattering as he collected his winnings with a calm smile.
With deliberate movements, he straightened his suit, adjusting the collar as if preparing for a ritual rather than a casual evening. His eyes flicked to the corner of the room, lingering on the exit. He whispered softly to himself, a growl barely audible over the hum of the casino:
"Finally…the time has arrived."
Even here, the world seemed to hold its breath. His presence alone demanded the attention of fate, as though the energy pulsing in distant lands had recognized him, had somehow acknowledged his waiting.
In yet another corner of the world, on a desolate, abandoned island, a lone figure stood, shirtless, the muscles on his back tensed like cords of steel under his black hair. The waves lapped gently at jagged rocks around him, but the calmness of the scene belied the storm within. He raised his hands, clenched them, and spoke to the wind as if it were his counsel:
"Time…to take revenge."
The words were simple, but the weight behind them pressed on the earth itself. He did not flinch as the wind bit at his skin. He did not waver as the tide crashed at his feet. For him, the world had been paused, waiting, and now the moment had arrived.
From yet another continent, in the hallowed halls of an ancient religious site, a man in priestly robes knelt silently, the flickering candles casting shadows across his gaunt features. The chapel was empty, save for him and the echoes of whispered prayers. He rose slowly, the aged wood of the floor creaking underfoot, and approached the pulpit. His voice, sharp and clear, reverberated through the silence.
"Finally…time to reach God."
His words hung in the air like smoke, curling upward toward the vaulted ceilings, as though seeking communion with the divine—or challenging it.
Back in the city, the chaos continued unabated. Civilians screamed in panic as helicopters hovered, searchlights cutting through the haze of crimson light. Windows shattered in buildings, the pressure waves from the tower's energy sending tremors through the streets. People clutched one another, praying, crying, running blindly, the psychological terror of the situation overwhelming their senses.
"Why…why is this happening?" someone cried. "What…what is happening to the world?"
The echo of their fear matched the pulse emanating from the old tower. It was as though the world itself had paused to observe, to tremble before the force of one boy turned living storm.
Sui Hiroshi barked orders into his radio, voice slicing through panic. "All units—form perimeter! Civilians, evacuate! Keep distance from the tower! Reinforcements, move in—contain that energy if you can!" His hands shook slightly, betraying the fear he fought to suppress. He had faced dangerous criminals, disasters, and insurgencies, but this…this was unlike anything he had ever encountered.
The broadcast across all channels painted a grim reality. Reporters' voices trembled as they narrated the devastation in real time. Helicopters circled the area, their rotors chopping the crimson haze, adding to the dizzying disorientation of the citizens below.
Back in the home of Kaito's family, his mother clutched her daughter tightly, shaking. "I thought…he would be safe. I thought he'd recover…just a little…after everything…But…" Her voice broke completely. She could barely continue, the weight of fear pressing on her chest.
His sister's face was pale, eyes wide. "Mother…why is this happening? Why would anyone put him in danger? He's just a boy…
But their cries were drowned by the overwhelming pulse of power emanating from the tower. Even from afar, the energy felt sentient, aware, as if it fed off the fear, despair, and awe of the people it illuminated.
Far beyond the city, across the globe, the various figures stirred. The soldier in black, the man in the underground casino, the figure on the dead island, the priest—they were all connected by the invisible threads of fate, timing, and anticipation. Each one had waited for this moment, each had prepared, schemed, and anticipated. And now…now the world trembled under the surge of Kaito's eclipse power.
Even as fear consumed the hearts of ordinary citizens, the higher players moved in shadows and light, plotting, observing, waiting for the next phase. The world was on edge, teetering on the brink of change, and in every corner, across continents and oceans, humanity was about to realize that some powers were beyond comprehension. Beyond control. Beyond morality.
And above it all, in the old town, Kaito floated, the epicenter of the storm, his crimson eyes blazing like molten fire. The pulse of the eclipse resonated through him, and though he was trapped between consciousness and the unrestrained force within, the world had already taken notice. History itself paused, quivering, as the boy who had escaped chains, experiments, and kidnappers became a storm the world could not yet contain.
Every scream, every shout, every whispered prayer, and every calculating gaze from afar—all of it converged on this moment. The stage was set. The players were in place. And the reckoning had begun.