The Golden Storage stood as the most secured fortress in the entire Golden Globe — a massive cube-shaped structure forged entirely from unbreakable metal that could withstand searing heat or raw brute strength. Golden scouts in the finest battle suits patrolled relentlessly, alert and battle-ready. Floating magic orbs recorded every movement, while a towering reinforced fence blocked all external views, even from the highest points of the Golden Globe. It was impenetrable. Or so everyone believed.
Night had fallen. The Golden Globe boasted a near-zero crime rate, yet the Storage remained heavily guarded because of the priceless relics housed within.
The cloaked intruders moved like ghosts — fast, silent blurs that no Flow of Sight, heightened senses, or defense could detect in time. Whenever a scout turned, a black cloak would whip past in the shadows. Magic orbs captured nothing.
One patrolling scout heard a faint but distinct noise from a dark corner. He stopped, processed the sound, then cautiously approached the shadowed alcove.
As he drew near, a hand shot out from the darkness, yanking him in.
Moments later, another scout walked toward the same spot and saw his colleague standing there, facing the shadows.
"Hey… you alright?" he called.
The figure turned. "Yeah, I'm totally fine. Thought I heard something."
They walked away together.
The shift change created the only brief window — barely a minute — when the entrance stood less guarded. The current team headed inside while the new squad emerged.
Five at a time, the previous scouts outside stood before the entrance. A calm golden light scanned them thoroughly before granting entry. Batch after batch, more than a dozen were cleared and marched inside.
They moved in coordinated formation down a hallway bathed in warm golden light. Another scan at the inner door, and they were permitted into the rest area.
Joyful chatter filled the room as they entered. Suits were removed, shoulders relaxed, and friendly banter echoed — laughter, playful teasing, the lively warmth of comrades unwinding.
One armored scout remained standing still, silently observing everything.
Some noticed. One approached with a grin. "Hey buddy, why just standing there? Ain't gonna let go of the armory and join us?"
In a flash, the armored scout formed a razor-sharp knife from his gaulet and drove it upward — from the man's jaw straight through his skull. Blood sprayed violently across the floor.
The room froze in stunned silence. Disbelief hung thick in the air.
Then chaos erupted.
The armored scout swung his arm in a wide arc. Beams of searing light shot out, piercing one scout through the chest. More beams followed.
The others snapped out of shock and screamed, charging from all angles.
A female scout hurled a fireball from her left arm. Another unleashed crackling lightning from her fingertips. A third launched a concentrated laser beam. Steel spikes erupted from the floor. Magnetic waves tried to crush the intruder. Vines burst from cracks in the wall, attempting to bind him. Water blades sliced through the air.
All attacks slammed into the armored scout at once — BOOM! — creating a massive explosion and thick cloud of smoke.
From behind the smoke, a female scout panicked. "What is going on?!"
A single light beam lanced out from the cloud, piercing cleanly through her head. She dropped instantly.
The smoke cleared. A shimmering force field now surrounded the armored scout.
"A double Flow user!" one scout shouted, voice tight with tension.
The room grew even more charged.
The scouts roared and charged again, attacking from every direction.
Fists flew — he dodged with unnatural speed, countering with a brutal elbow that shattered one scout's jaw and sent teeth flying. A steel-manipulator tried to impale him from behind; the armored scout grabbed the spike mid-air, twisted it, and drove it back through the attacker's own thigh, pinning him screaming to the ground.
From afar, lightning and fire rained down. The force field absorbed most, but the sheer volume pushed him back a step. He retaliated by firing concentrated light beams that sliced through a scout's arm, severing it cleanly at the shoulder. Blood arced as the man howled.
A magnetic user lifted heavy metal crates and hurled them. The armored scout dodged, then caught one and smashed it into another attacker's chest, caving ribs with a sickening crunch.
Plant vines wrapped around his legs — he destroyed them with a energy beam, then stomped down, breaking the leg of the controller with a wet snap.
Water blades cut across his force field. He dropped the shield for a split second, lunged forward, and drove a steel-hardened fist into a scout's throat, crushing the windpipe. The man gurgled and collapsed.
More and more attacks poured in — fireballs exploding, lightning chaining between scouts, steel shards flying like bullets, magnetic pulls trying to yank him off balance, thorny plants erupting from the floor.
He moved like a storm, countering with lethal precision. Every dodge ended in death or devastation: a broken spine here, a severed limb there, a chest caved in by reinforced steel.
The fight raged, blood painting the walls and floor.
Then — finally — a powerful combined blast from over a dozen scouts (fire, lightning, and magnetic force fused together) slammed into him with full force. The impact pushed the armored scout back several feet, cracking the floor beneath him. His force field flickered violently.
More than a dozen scouts still stood, breathing hard, weapons and Flows charged, ready for the next wave.
The huge outer gate of the Golden Storage suddenly opened with a thunderous boom.
Every remaining scout's attention snapped toward it. They moved cautiously closer. The gate rarely ever opened.
As it swung fully wide, only darkness greeted them. Then cloaked individuals surged out of the shadows — fast, merciless.
They stabbed, burned, impaled with razor-sharp plants, and tore through the scouts. The atmosphere turned dark and suffocating, thick with the metallic stench of blood. Some scouts fought back desperately, but more fell with every passing second.
Max emerged calmly from the darkness, walking composedly through the chaos as if taking a leisurely stroll. A scout charged him. Max ducked smoothly, placed a hand on the man's chest — and in seconds the scout turned to solid stone, frozen mid-scream.
Max continued forward without breaking stride and entered the Golden Storage.
He moved down the bloodied hallway and reached the first inner room. He opened the door.
Corpses littered the ground. Blood flowed freely across the floor.
Max stared for a second, then looked up. "You seriously overdid it," he said calmly
.
The armored scout stood before him, suit drenched in blood. She removed her helmet, letting long grey-and-purple hair cascade down. Her purple eyes glowed with a bright, unhinged light.
"I don't think I did," she replied in a calm, psychotic tone.
Max stared at her evenly.
Moments later, a lift carried them down to a lower chamber — a vast, wide space lined with countless secure doors.
The woman (Bel) jumped excitedly, clapping her hands. "Yay! We made it!"
Max simply stared ahead, calm as ever.
Day broke.
The Golden Guardian walked through the Golden Storage, her body cold and uneasy as she passed the corpses. Outside, bodies lay torn in half, impaled, or stabbed. The air reeked of blood and death.
Inside was the same nightmare. Scouts worked silently, cleaning the mess and wrapping the bodies.
Ethan approached and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Debra… are you okay?" he asked quietly.
"I can't believe all these people were just killed like it was nothing," she replied, voice heavy.
She turned and started walking toward the exit. "Please send any useful info you find to me."
Ethan watched her leave with deep concern.
Later that day, the Golden Guardian sat alone in her office, lost in thought. Every event of the past few days replayed endlessly in her mind.
Ethan, Carol, and Cain entered.
"Hey Debra," Ethan said.
She looked up. "What did you guys find out?"
"This was done by a group. Multiple Flows were used in the outer attack," Carol reported. "As for those taken down inside… it was the same person."
The Golden Guardian's eyes widened in shock.
"Five objects were taken," Cain added. "The Krimline Stone, Spirit Orb, Orculine Cube, a Golden Seal, and Urion Steel."
She sat quietly, letting the information sink in, staring at nothing.
Everyone watched her in silence.
Finally, Ethan spoke. "Debra… are you okay?"
She looked at them. "Please… can you all excuse me? I need some time alone."
Carol and Cain left quietly. Ethan lingered a moment longer, watching her distant expression. He opened his mouth to say something, then thought better of it and walked out slowly.
Days later, Ethan trained alone in his apartment — pull-ups, push-ups, pounding a heavy bag, sit-ups — pushing himself hard.
The door opened. Carol knocked lightly and stepped in.
"Good day, Ethan," she said calmly.
He stopped, sat upright, breathing steady. "Oh, hey Carol."
"Have you heard from the Golden Guardian? It's been a week now and nothing."
Ethan stood, grabbed a bottle of water, and took a drink. "I haven't heard anything either."
"Why don't we get Cain and go pay her a visit?"
Later, the three reached her office in the Golden Tower. Ethan knocked.
"Come in," the Golden Guardian called.
They entered… and froze.
The Golden Guardian stood before a massive investigation board covered in pinned pictures, connected strings, and scattered papers on the floor.
"Debra… what's going on?" Ethan asked, voice filled with curiosity and concern.
She turned to face them. "The Golden Storage massacre really affected me. I wasn't able to think straight… so I decided that justice for them is the cure."
She walked closer to the board, staring at it intently.
Ethan stepped up beside her. "Okay… what about the board?"
"I've spent the past week trying to figure out what the plan of those who did this really is."
She pointed at different sections. "First they struck the museum and stole the Messenger God artifact — might be a fake, but it was built structurally identical to the real one."
"Then they hit Golden World and stole its Crellin Core."
"Wait — I thought the Crellin Core on display was fake," Cain said.
"It's real," the Golden Guardian replied. "The Elders used a powerful enough power source so the rides would move smoothly and without interruption."
Cain nodded.
She continued, pointing again. "Then the library — stealing a book about the gods."
"And finally… the Golden Storage." She took a calm breath.
"Out of everything they took, Urion Steel is the most valuable — the strongest metal in the Golden Globe. All of this means only one thing."
She stepped forward. "They're building something. And I'm almost certain it's the Messenger item."
The atmosphere in the room grew cold and uneasy. Tension thickened the air.
"I'm not saying you're wrong," Ethan said carefully, "but why go through all this just to build a god's item when they know they can't actually use it?"
Silence fell. The question hung heavy — unanswered and painfully logical.
"What if they actually can use it?" Carol suggested quietly.
Everyone turned to her, curious.
"I know it sounds crazy… but what if they're not building the real god's item, but something similar — for someone with a similar Flow? Items normally choose their user… but what if they've found a way to bypass that?"
"If you're right," Ethan said grimly, "then we have a serious situation. Ekewo is the fastest among the gods. Old stories say only Chiwura, the overall creator, could keep up with his speed."
"True," the Golden Guardian added. "Now the real question is… what is their plan?"
Unkown Location - Night
The entire hideout was carved from stone. Yellow orbs hung on the walls, casting warm light. Cloaked individuals sat in groups without their hoods, chatting, smiling, and relaxing.
Max walked past them composedly, calm expression unchanged, heading toward a brightly glowing room where sparks flew.
He entered. Three people were inside: one leaning against the wall, Bel (the purple-haired girl from the storage) sitting down, and Rali working at a bench.
Bel spotted Max, jumped up, and rushed to embrace him tightly. "Welcome back, Max!" she said with loud, joyous energy.
Max said nothing, gently moving past her to the third person — Rali — who sat wearing a protective mask and welding.
"So… how's it coming along?" Max asked calmly.
Rali turned, removed the mask, and revealed the project.
In front of him sat a pair of exquisite steel boots, patterned with intricate lines and embedded crystals at the soles — an exact replica of the Messenger God Ekewo's legendary item.
"Excellent," Max said.
TO BE CONTINUED.