Elion, Jordan, and Ronan arrived in a dark alleyway after teleporting. The air smelled of damp concrete, garbage, and hints of the city’s usual noise.


    This time, both Elion and Jordan were ready. They managed to land on their feet.


    Jordan sighed as he stretched his arms. “Man, that never gets less weird.”


    Ronan smirked. “You get used to it.”


    Elion barely heard them. Outside the alley, he could sense a commotion and chaos were happening.


    He could hear people talking, hurried footsteps, sirens, and the sound of news reports playing on people''s phones.


    To cut it short, the city was restless.


    "Why does it sound so chaotic out there?" Elion wondered aloud.


    He wanted to step outside of the alley, but Ronan was much faster and, of course, stronger. Elion''s shoulder was grabbed by Ronan, stopping him.


    “No. Don''t go yet,” Ronan said. His voice was firm but not harsh. “I don’t feel anything good right now.”


    Jordan frowned. “Does it have something to do with what happened last night?”


    Elion frowned but decided to give in. He took out his phone from his pocket. When he unlocked it, his stomach dropped.


    17 missed calls. 32 unread messages.


    All from his mother.


    His chest tightened. He quickly looked at Ronan. “Can I call my mom first?”


    Ronan nodded, his expression unreadable. “Go ahead.”


    Elion didn’t waste time. He hit the call button. The phone rang once, twice—


    Then, his mother answered.


    “Elion.”


    Her voice was barely above a whisper. Tight. Controlled. But he knew her too well. She was trying not to panic.


    “Mom? What’s going on?” Elion asked, heart pounding.


    His mother took a shaky breath. “Listen to me. Do not come home. Not now.”


    Elion’s pulse spiked. “What? Why?”


    There was a pause. Then, her next words chilled him.


    “Check the news.”


    Click.


    She ended the call.


    Elion stared at his phone, stunned.


    Jordan raised an eyebrow. “What happened?”


    Ronan said nothing, watching him closely.


    Elion swallowed. “She told me… not to come home.” His grip on his phone tightened. “She sounded scared.”


    Jordan’s expression darkened. “Check the news. Now.”


    ***


    In the small apartment, Shasha Hayes sat stiffly on the couch, gripping her phone tightly. She needed to be strong for her kids.


    Especially for Elion in this current situation.


    Shasha stared blankly at the news broadcast, her fingers tightening around her phone. The grainy footage of the bear-man played in a loop, overlaid with sensationalized headlines.


    Her pulse quickened.


    ''Is it happening already?''


    She had seen and been warned about something like this before, not on screen, but in real life.


    It happened years ago.


    A night burned into her memory, one she tried to forget. A monstrous figure, its eyes gleaming with unnatural hunger, its presence suffocating—just like the one in the recording.


    Back then, she had been helpless.


    But someone had saved her.


    A man.


    Thinking about that fateful night, a mix of emotions washed over her.


    Could it really be—


    "Mom?"


    Across the room, Liam, her youngest son, peeked beneath the front door, his sharp brown eyes scanning the hallway.


    Shadows.


    Tall, unmoving shadows stood just outside their door.


    Liam turned back to his mother and his little sister, Alia, lowering his voice. “They’re still out there.”


    Shasha closed her eyes, exhaling through her nose.


    Alia, only ten years old, fidgeted beside her. “Was that Elion?” she whispered.


    Liam snapped his head toward her. “Shh!” He made a quick gesture for silence, his expression firm. “Don’t say his name here.”


    Alia shrunk back, glancing toward the door. “But why? He’s our brother.”


    Liam’s voice was tense. “And if those cops hear us? They’ll be on us even harder. They’re waiting for him to come home.”


    The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    Alia bit her lip. “But… did he really do what they said?”


    Silence.


    Shasha clenched her jaw. “Of course not,” she said firmly.


    Liam nodded. “Elion saved people. He fought that monster.” His eyes flickered with anger. “And now they’re treating him like a criminal.”


    Alia shifted uncomfortably. “But the news said—”


    “The news says a lot of things,” Shasha cut in, her voice sharp but steady. “That doesn’t make it true.”


    Alia fell silent, unsure.


    Shasha sighed, pulling both of her children closer. “Listen to me,” she murmured. “We trust Elion. No matter what the media says.”


    Liam stared at the door again, fists clenched. “Yeah. But trusting him won’t make the cops leave.”


    His mind raced with possibilities. He needed a plan to help his brother.


    ***


    Elion’s hands were clammy as he scrolled through his phone. The news headlines were everywhere.


    "BREAKING NEWS: TWO INDIVIDUALS ASSOCIATED WITH XYLO CLUB INCIDENT UNDER INVESTIGATION"


    "ELION HAYES AND JORDAN WALKER: PERPETRATORS OR HEROES?"


    "AUTHORITIES ARE SEEKING INFORMATION ABOUT TWO MEN IN RELATION TO THE TRAGIC EVENT."


    Elion’s stomach sank. "I can’t believe this."


    Jordan choked on air while reading over his shoulder. “WHAT?!”


    Ronan, completely unsurprised, just chuckled.


    Elion scrolled through the reports, his grip tightening with every sentence.


    The police weren’t outright calling them criminals, but they were officially listed as “wanted for questioning.”


    But then came the real problem.


    The media.


    After reviewing the CCTV footage, the social media exploded.


    Someone uploaded a blurry, shaky video from the club, showing Elion and Jordan chasing after the bear-man.


    Some called them brave.


    Some called them suspicious.


    Then came the influencers.


    “I don’t know, man. You’re telling me two random guys could fight a literal monster and survive?”


    “They chased after it, which suggests they were involved in some way.”


    “If they’re innocent, why are they hiding?”


    Jordan dragged a hand down his face. “This is insane. How did people even come to this conclusion?!”


    Elion had no words. It was worse than he expected.


    If only they knew that it got worse when Marcus, Malik, and the white team entered the chat.


    The ones who got their asses handed to them by the Red Team? Yeah, they weren’t happy.


    They started spreading rumors. Twisting the narrative.


    Jordan threw his hands up. “Oh, COME ON!”


    He was trying his best to calm down. "I should''ve beaten them harder."


    Ronan finally spoke, a dry chuckle escaping him. “Looks like our worlds have something in common.”


    Elion turned to him, exasperated. “What?”


    “Media manipulation.” Ronan grinned. “Gotta love it.”


    Jordan scowled. “No, I do NOT love it. How do we fix this?!”


    Elion rubbed his temples. “First thing’s first. We need to figure out what the police actually know and want to know from us.”


    Jordan nodded. “Right. Because if we just walk into a police station saying ‘Hey, we totally didn’t fight a bear-man,’ they’ll definitely believe us.”


    Ronan leaned against the wall, arms crossed. “If they only ‘want to question you,’ it means they don’t have real evidence.” His gray eyes gleamed. “That’s good.”


    Elion exhaled. “Define good.”


    Ronan shrugged. “Means they’re guessing. They don’t know what really happened, so they’re grasping at straws.”


    Jordan rolled his eyes. “Yeah, and those straws are us.”


    Elion was about to respond, but then—


    A shadow loomed at the alley’s exit.


    A man stood there, a few meters in front of them, clad in a dark rider jacket, hands casually stuffed into his pockets. His posture was relaxed, but his smile—that was what set off every alarm in Elion’s head.


    It wasn’t a normal smile.


    It was the kind that said, I know something you don’t, and you’re going to regret walking into my territory.


    Jordan, ever the king of comedic timing, let out a low whistle. “Oh wow. Never thought I’d be VVIP status. Feels nice to have someone waiting for us already.”


    Elion didn’t take his eyes off the man. “I’m not sure that’s someone,” he muttered. His fingers twitched toward his beast ring. “Pretty sure this leans more toward something.”


    Ronan chuckled, completely unfazed. “Maybe this is the best time for you two to put everything you’ve learned into practice.”


    Elion turned to him slowly. “What?”


    Ronan grinned. “Y’know. Your one-day Slayer training course. Let’s see if it actually paid off.”


    Elion deadpanned. “A one-day training course, Ronan. That’s not even a montage length.”


    Jordan threw his hands up. “Yeah, man! We didn’t even get a dramatic training sequence with some epic music! Just two hours of dodging rocks and getting our asses kicked!”


    Ronan smirked. “Sounds like a you problem.”


    Elion exhaled sharply. “You’re actually enjoying this, aren’t you?”


    Ronan’s gray eyes gleamed. “A little.”


    The man in the jacket finally moved, taking a single step forward. The air around him shifted, thickening in a way that made Elion’s skin crawl.


    “Alright, boys,” Ronan said, cracking his knuckles. “Lesson time’s over.”


    He tilted his head, watching the man closely.


    “Welcome to the real test.”


    There was a reason Elion and Jordan weren’t afraid.


    Not even a little.


    The man standing before them radiated threat, sure. His aura felt heavy, wild, like something barely restrained. But compared to Ronan?


    Yeah, not even close.


    They had already faced Ronan’s aura—an ocean compared to this guy’s puddle. The sheer weight of Ronan’s presence, the suffocating pressure he could release when he actually tried? That was a monster.


    This guy?


    Like Ronan said, he was just another test. But this could not be considered a real test.


    The man exhaled sharply, his breath coming out in a deep snort. His body twisted and expanded, skin shifting into thick, coarse fur. Bones cracked, muscles stretched, and in an instant—


    The alley shook as a towering bull-man landed heavily on the pavement.


    Jordan, who had not forgotten about a certain bull from last night, grinned. “Oh, another bull-man?” He rolled his shoulders. “Good. I didn’t get the chance to go against one last night.”


    Without hesitation, he activated his beast ring.


    A dark golden-black glow surged over his arms, spreading like liquid metal before hardening into something much denser—thick, plated rhino armor.


    His arms didn’t just look stronger. They were walking battering rams now.


    Ronan sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “I literally told you not to use that form.”


    Jordan blinked. “You did?”


    Elion, already lifting his own beast ring, nodded. “Yeah, something about wasting mana.”


    “Oh.” Jordan shrugged, flexing his new rhino arms. “Well, too late now.”


    Elion smirked. If Jordan was going to go all-in, he might as well match the energy. His ring flared.


    Power rushed through his legs, changing them—shifting them into something faster, sleeker, stronger. His feet became black panther legs, reinforced with golden-black plating, claws razor-sharp.


    Jordan grinned. “Damn, bro. We actually look—”


    Ronan shook his head. “Idiots. Both of you.”


    Because this morning, during training, he had specifically warned them that using the “cool” transformation would burn through their mana way faster.


    And yet, here they were. But then Ronan was reminded of something.


    Earlier, during training, he noticed something weird about Elion and Jordan.


    Unlike him, who had to conserve mana and pick the most efficient transformations, these two recovered their mana faster than expected.


    Even though Earth’s natural energy was weak, Elion and Jordan had somehow managed to restore their mana quicker than him.


    He wondered why. The only explanation for now was that maybe they were original Earthlings, unlike him, who came from the Beast World.


    Their bodies weren’t just adapting to the environment. They were built for it.


    Ronan frowned. ''That… was interesting.''


    Meanwhile, Elion stretched his panther-enhanced legs, testing his balance. His golden-black plated feet barely made a sound as he shifted his weight.


    It almost felt natural. Like this was how his body was supposed to move.


    Jordan cracked his knuckles, admiring his rhino armor arms. “Dude, we look sick.”


    Elion really wanted to see what they looked like right now. With their golden-black plated beast parts, he believed that they didn’t just look like Slayers.


    They looked like something more. Something stronger. Something impossible to ignore. He wondered what else was in store for them, such as if they were able to open up more Mana Gates or... what if they were able to go to the Beast World.


    What kind of life awaits them?


    A slow smirk spread across Elion’s face.


    “Well,” he said, rolling his shoulders, “since people are taking us for suspects…”


    He kicked off the ground, his new panther legs barely making a sound, the world feeling just a little slower around him.


    “…why don’t we just be the coolest-looking suspects?”