The fight was about to begin. Arnold and Takey stood in the center of the clearing, their eyes locked in a silent war of wills. The air felt thick, heavy with a tension that made it hard to breathe. Every rustle of the leaves felt like a gunshot.
But before a single punch could be thrown, the rules changed.
The silence didn't lead to a fair duel. Instead, it shattered. Takey's men didn't wait for a signal. They didn't move one by one. They rushed forward all at once, a wave of bodies and grunts aimed at Arnold.
"Ayelen!" Miyara shouted, her voice trembling with sudden terror.
For a heartbeat, the situation looked hopeless. There were too many of them, and the attack was too sudden. The numbers were overwhelming, a chaotic blur of limbs closing in on a single target.
But then came the sound.
Thud. Thud.
Arnold moved. It was a blur of efficiency. Two punches, crisp and powerful, landed before the attackers even realized he had shifted his weight. Two men hit the dirt, their breath knocked out of them instantly.
Just like that, the momentum shifted.
Everyone froze for a second. The thugs exchanged uneasy glances; they hadn't expected this kind of speed. This wasn't a schoolyard scrap. This was something else.
Takey snarled, jumping into the fray. He aimed a vicious kick straight at Arnold's head, putting all his frustration into the strike. Arnold didn't even look stressed. He dodged the kick with a slight lean, his eyes never leaving Takey's, even as two more men tried to grab him from the sides.
Without breaking eye contact with Takey, Arnold swung. Two more men dropped. He was moving like a machine, calculating every angle while keeping his main target pinned under a cold, predatory gaze.
The atmosphere shifted from a brawl to something much darker. The remaining men stepped back, their confidence wavering. Then came the metallic shring of steel.
Knives. Blades. Weapons.
Ayelen's chest tightened, a cold knot of fear forming in his stomach. Beside him, Miyara clenched her fists so hard her knuckles turned white. But Arnold didn't flinch. He didn't move back, and he certainly didn't hesitate. He stood his ground, his shadow stretching long and jagged against the forest floor.
They attacked together again, desperate to end it. They surged forward in a circle, blades glinting in the dim light.
And then—it happened.
A sudden shock hit the clearing. It was invisible, but it felt like the weight of a mountain had suddenly dropped onto their shoulders. The air grew cold. Everyone froze mid-step.
No one could move. Not Takey, not his hired thugs, not even Ayelen or Miyara. Their muscles locked up, their lungs struggling to draw air. Arnold felt it too. His body, usually so responsive, refused to obey. It was as if some unseen force was holding him in place, pinning him to the very air.
Some of the men tried to struggle, their faces contorting with effort, but they failed. They were statues in a haunted forest.
Then, the sound of footsteps reached them.
Slow. Calm. Deliberate.
A man walked toward them out of the thick darkness of the trees. He wasn't in a rush. He showed no fear. He didn't need to. His mere presence felt like a suffocating blanket over the area.
"Tch… tch… tch…"
His voice was quiet, almost a whisper, yet it carried clearly to every ear in the clearing.
"These weapons… aren't for kids," he said, his tone mocking yet strangely hollow.
He walked through the frozen crowd, looking at each of them as if they were nothing more than interesting insects.
"If you still depend on weapons… you'll never become real fighters."
He paused, a heavy silence following his words. Then, his eyes shifted, locking onto Arnold.
"Am I right… Arnold?"
Arnold's eyes widened. He was paralyzed, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird. But he could still see. He could see Ayelen and Miyara, both frozen, their faces masks of pale terror.
Something deep inside Arnold pushed back. A primal instinct, a desperate need to protect, began to burn through the invisible pressure. He fought against the weight, his teeth gritting so hard they groaned.
His left hand twitched. Then, slowly, painfully, he began to force his arm to move.
"Stay away…" Arnold shouted, his voice cracking as it ripped through the atmospheric pressure. "Stay away from my brother and sister!"
For a moment, the world around him seemed to bleed away. The forest disappeared, and the cold air turned into a searing heat.
Flashback
A younger Miyara sat on the scorched ground, her face covered in soot and tears. She was holding two small children close to her chest, her arms wrapped around them like shields.
Ayelen. And Arnold.
But even then, in the middle of the nightmare, something felt different. There was a truth that didn't need to be spoken aloud.
Arnold… wasn't their real brother.
Fire roared around them, a forest swallowed by hungry orange flames. Smoke filled their lungs, and the world was nothing but chaos and screams. Through it all, Miyara held them tighter, refusing to let go, her body a barrier between them and the end of the world.
Back to the present
The man stood directly in front of Takey. He looked unbothered, almost bored. With an effortless movement, he reached out and took the knife right out of Takey's hand. Takey couldn't even blink.
Then, the knife simply disappeared. It didn't fall. It didn't move. It was just gone, as if it had never existed in the first place.
One by one, the man moved through the group. He collected every weapon—every knife, every blade, every hidden piece of steel. Each one vanished the moment he touched it.
Fear, cold and absolute, spread through the attackers. No one spoke. No one dared to move even as the pressure began to lift.
The man turned slightly, his face partially hidden by the shadows of his hood.
"Go home," he said simply.
A long pause followed.
"Or I'll call the police."
It was a mundane threat from a man who clearly wasn't mundane, but no one argued. No one resisted. The thugs broke their paralysis and scrambled away into the trees, Takey stumbling along with them, his face pale and stripped of all his previous bravado.
And just like that, the man was gone. He didn't walk away; he simply wasn't there anymore.
Silence returned to the forest, but it wasn't the same as before. The air felt heavier, stranger, stained by a mystery they couldn't name. Arnold stood shaking, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he looked at his siblings.
Nothing felt normal anymore. The world had just pulled back its curtain, and what lay beneath was terrifying.
• CHAPTER 5 ENDS •