"Oops… the key's gone. Now what will you do?"
"Enough of your nonsense. I've heard quite enough."
Silas snapped back sharply, his voice cutting through the air like a blade. Without wasting another second, he turned away and started walking off. The playful mood he had moments ago shifted instantly—like a sudden storm swallowing calm skies. Something about Harrison's teasing had crossed a line, and now irritation burned quietly in his expression.
"Quite a temper you've got… I like that," came the voice behind him, almost amused, almost challenging, as footsteps followed him.
Silas didn't slow down.
"Where do you think you're going?" the voice pressed again. "You're not leaving before dealing with me."
Silas had already reached the edge of the rooftop. A low, narrow boundary wall stood there—barely enough to balance on. He placed his hand on it and slowly turned his head over his shoulder.
"What—"
Harrison had just stepped closer, watching him carefully now. The playful expression on his face began to fade, replaced by something more alert… more uncertain.
"Wait. What are you trying to do?" Harrison asked, his tone tightening.
A faint smirk appeared on Silas's face.
"What does it look like? I'm leaving."
Without hesitation, Silas slipped his phone into his coat pocket. There was no second thought, no hesitation—no fear written on his face. As if gravity itself was just another suggestion.
Before Harrison could even react properly, Silas pushed himself up onto the narrow wall, balanced for a brief moment… and then jumped.
For a split second, everything froze.
"NO—!" Harrison's voice broke out, sharp with shock.
He rushed forward instantly, heart suddenly pounding harder than before. Reaching the edge, he leaned over and looked down—
And then he stopped.
Silas hadn't fallen.
Instead, he was hanging there, gripping a thick metal pipe tightly with one hand. His body swung slightly as he controlled his movement with surprising calm, slowly lowering himself down with careful precision, like he had done this kind of thing before… like danger wasn't something new to him.
The panic in Harrison's face slowly faded, replaced by disbelief… and then something closer to reluctant amusement.
A short laugh escaped him.
"You're completely insane," he muttered, shaking his head.
With that, Harrison stepped back from the edge, still watching for a second before turning away and walking off—leaving the rooftop behind, while Silas continued his quiet descent into the chaos below.
A very short distance was left between Silas and the ground below. The metal pipe was still in his grip, but he could feel the end of it approaching fast. Without hesitation, he released it mid-air.
The moment his hand let go, gravity pulled him down.
But instead of falling blindly, Silas twisted his body in the air and landed with control—his shoes hitting the ground in a soft but firm impact. Dust scattered slightly beneath his feet. There was no pause, no relief, no time to think.
The second he touched the ground, he broke into a full sprint.
Ahead, at some distance behind the school building, stood another structure—half-hidden, isolated. That was his direction. That was his escape point.
Silas ran without slowing, breath steady, eyes locked forward. The school was still around him, but now it felt like a cage he was trying to break out of.
As he closed in on the outer boundary wall of the school, he didn't even reduce his speed. His gaze flicked up for a fraction of a second—measuring distance, angle, timing.
Then he jumped.
But it wasn't a normal jump.
Mid-air, Silas extended his hands slightly downward, fingers tensing as if gripping something invisible. The air around him subtly responded—like a pressure bending under his will.His coat flared slightly in the upward rush of movement. An unseen force lifted him higher, just enough to guide his movement upward and forward.
Telekinesis.
For a brief moment, it looked like reality itself had given him a helping hand.
He cleared the wall effortlessly, floating just enough to pass over it, then gradually released the force. As the control faded, gravity took over again, and he dropped smoothly on the other side.
He landed in a controlled roll, absorbing the impact, and immediately transitioned back into motion.
No stopping. No looking back.
He ran again.
The abandoned building was now clearly in sight.
As he got closer, Silas pulled out his phone from his coat pocket while still running. The screen lit up in his hand.
00:58.
His expression didn't change—but his pace did. It sharpened.
He pushed forward harder.
The surroundings grew quieter the closer he got. No students. No noise. Just trees, wild plants, overgrown grass, and silence pressing in from all sides. The building ahead looked forgotten by time itself—half-constructed, half-abandoned, like someone had stopped caring about it years ago and never returned.
Concrete skeleton. Empty windows. Dead silence.
But Silas didn't slow down.
He was already too close.
As soon as Silas stepped inside the building, the atmosphere changed completely.
The air felt heavier here—damp, cold, and strangely silent. Broken concrete, unfinished walls, and empty corridors stretched around like the skeleton of something that had been abandoned mid-breath.
To his left, at a short distance, he noticed a screen setup along with a few scattered devices placed carefully together, as if this place had been prepared for something specific. Something deliberate.
Silas moved forward without hesitation, eyes fixed on it. Whatever game this was, he was clearly planning to end it right here.
But before he could take even a few more steps—
Movement.
From the open doorways of nearby empty rooms—places where doors had never even been installed—figures started emerging.
One by one.
Silas stopped.
His expression hardened instantly.
These weren't students.
These were grown men. Strong, built, and clearly not here by accident. The moment he saw them, his jaw tightened, teeth grinding slightly in frustration.
"So this is what it's come to…" he muttered under his breath.
The situation had already crossed the line, but now it was getting worse—too fast, too controlled. This wasn't just some random mess anymore. It felt planned. Structured.
A low, mocking laugh echoed through the space.
"Ha… ha ha ha…"
Silas Laughed,his eyes sharpened, dripping with arrogance.
"So much anger... you were even thinking of killing me."
That name… that presence—Ashir.
Silas's mind flickered for a second.
He had always known Ashir wasn't innocent. There had always been something off, something sharp beneath the surface. But this… this was something else entirely.
He never thought it would reach this point.
Not like this.
There had been a time when they were inseparable. The kind of friends who would've taken a bullet for each other without thinking. Shared secrets, shared trust, shared silence.
But betrayal had a way of rewriting everything.
And now?
Now they stood on opposite sides of something that could no longer be called friendship.
Silas's eyes dropped briefly.
00:34.
Thirty-four seconds left.
That was all he had time for.
His focus snapped back instantly.
The men around the screen began moving toward him—slow at first, then faster as they realized he wasn't going to back down.
Silas exhaled once.
And then he ran.
Silas tilted his head slightly. The air around him trembled for a fraction of a second—an invisible push rippled outward. Disrupted the enemy's balance with his mental power. The attacker's step faltered mid-motion, his balance breaking as if an unseen hand had tripped him.
"What the—"
The words escaped the man's lips, leaving him utterly bewildered.
Silas immediately kicked him. The man stumbled backward and fell to the ground. As Silas advanced, he dodged an incoming strike from the enemy in front of him and landed a powerful punch to the man's face. The man staggered back but didn't fall. Silas was about to take down the enemy approaching from the right with a powerful shove when another attacker appeared from the left. In the chaos, Silas turned his head to block the new strike, but just as the enemy in front was about to land a devastating punch, Silas ignored the consequences of using his power publicly. Without hesitation, he thrust his hand forward and sent the man flying backward with a violent shove, as if struck by an invisible force.
Thud
As he fell, Silas also took a heavy blow and crashed to the ground. In his haste to evade the frontal attack, he had completely forgotten the threats from his right and left.
His face—already battered and bruised—looked even worse now. Blood trickled from the corner of his lip. Silas spat it out onto the cold concrete floor. The dark red stain spread beneath him, mixing with dust and dirt.
He forced himself up, one shaky breath at a time.
And then he saw it.
Ahead, where the screen still glowed in the distance, the numbers had changed.
00:02.
His heart didn't just beat—it slammed against his chest like it was trying to break free.
Each second felt heavier than the last.
His breathing turned uneven. The noise of the fight, the footsteps, the voices… everything around him began to fade, as if the world itself was pulling away from him.
Fear crept in—not sudden, but deep and suffocating.
This wasn't the Silas who walked in confidently, ready for anything. This wasn't the one who faced danger with calm eyes and controlled breath.
This was someone stripped down by exhaustion, pressure, and time.
A boy standing at the edge of something he couldn't outrun anymore.
Sweat ran down his forehead, mixing with dust and blood. His hands trembled slightly as he tried to push himself up again.
His gaze stayed locked on the screen.
00:01.
One second.
Just one.
And in that single second, everything he had done… everything he had fought through… would either mean something or collapse into nothing.
Silas's body froze.
The noise inside his head turned loud and distant at the same time—like an echo underwater. His strength, his focus, even his anger… all of it felt drained.
He slowly closed his eyes.
Not because he was calm—
But because he was exhausted.
Exhausted from running. From fighting. From being pushed from one impossible moment to another without rest.
Let it end… whatever it was meant to be.
A sharp sound suddenly cut through the silence.
"Tiiiiiit—"
A piercing beep echoed from the corners of the abandoned building. High-pitched. Sharp. Mechanical.
Instantly, every man in the room turned toward the screen.
Silas's eyes snapped open.
Red veins marked his vision. Everything looked slightly blurred, like the world couldn't decide whether to stay real or fall apart.
His gaze locked onto the screen.
00:01.
Still there.
Frozen.
His breath caught.
"Huh…"
A faint sound escaped him without meaning.
Something was wrong.
Something hadn't ended.
With visible struggle, he pressed one hand against the ground. His fingers dug into the dust and concrete as he tried to lift himself up again.
Slowly.
Shakily.
But this time, there was something different in his expression.
Not confidence.
Not fear.
Something sharper.
Realization.
Silas forced his eyes to see properly things.
The world in front of him was still unstable—edges slightly blurred, colors washed out—but he could make out more than before. Through the haze, something unfamiliar stood near the screen.
A figure.
Not one of Ashir's men.
Silas narrowed his eyes, trying to focus.
"Who the hell are you now…" someone shouted from the side, voice filled with anger and confusion.
The boy standing near the screen didn't react immediately. He stuck a finger in his ear and rubbed it, as if the noise around him was just an inconvenience rather than a threat. His posture was relaxed… almost disrespectfully calm.
He wore black pants, a black shirt, and over it a long, stylish black coat that fell slightly below his knees. Everything about him looked controlled—clean, sharp, deliberate.
Slowly, he dropped his hand from his ear and looked at the group.
His eyes were dark.
Wide.
And completely steady.
"Could you … speak a little softer?" he said, voice calm but sharp at the same time. "My ears were about to burst."
For a second, there was silence.
Then one of the men scoffed, stepping forward.
"You're here to get beaten up or what?"
The boy tilted his head slightly, almost amused.
"Beaten up?" he repeated, as if testing the words. A faint smile formed on his face. "Nice joke. Didn't laugh though."
That response snapped something in the atmosphere.
"Who the hell do you think you are?" another man barked. "What even are you doing here?"
The Boy in black finally took a step forward.
Just one step.
But it changed everything.
Confident. Unbothered. Like the number of enemies didn't matter at all.
"I?" he said lightly, pointing at himself. "I'm just passing by. But then I saw you guys doing… whatever this is."
He glanced around the room slowly, eyes landing briefly on the screen, then back to them.
"And I thought," he continued casually, "someone should teach you a lesson. Not a small one.... A big ones."
A dangerous silence followed.
One of the men lost patience.
"You bastard—!"
He rushed forward instantly, raising his fist.
The man in black didn't move back.
Not even a step.
Instead, he rolled his shoulders slightly, like he was loosening up before something routine.
A faint spark of excitement crossed his face.
"Alright then," he said softly, almost to himself. "Guess it's the time–
"—Now you're all screwed"
And the moment the attacker reached him—
Everything exploded into motion.
A sudden shift in energy.
Fast. Clean. Controlled.
The boy in black moved like a storm breaking without warning. No wasted movement. No hesitation. Just precision wrapped in confidence.
Within seconds, the first attacker was sent crashing sideways.
Then another.
And another.
Silas, still struggling to stand, watched through his blurred vision as the entire battlefield shifted in an instant.
For the first time—
the fight didn't feel like it belonged only to Ashir's plan anymore.
Something new had entered the game.
To Be Continued.....