Above them, the crow-man perched on the rooftop, his beady red eyes gleaming under the city lights.


    He wasn’t smirking anymore. No, this time, his gaze was sharp—calculating.


    Elion tensed. He was about to kick off the ground and take this bird down before he could escape—


    But Ronan stepped in front of him.


    “Let him go,” Ronan said casually.


    Elion whirled on him. “WHAT?! Why?! We have him right—”


    Ronan smirked. “Best way to lure out more of them.”


    The crow-man cawed softly, amused. “Clever,” he admitted. “But you three won’t be standing for long. I’ll make sure of that.”


    His wings flared, and with a powerful flap, he vanished into the sky.


    Elion clenched his fists. His gut told him that letting this guy fly away was a terrible idea.


    Jordan groaned, rubbing his temples. “That bird’s gonna be a problem later, isn’t he?”


    Ronan shrugged. “Almost definitely.”


    Jordan sighed. “Cool. Love that for us.”


    Behind them, the bull-man and lizard-man’s bodies began to shudder.


    Then, dark smoke—thick, oily, corrupt—rose from their corpses like some horror movie nightmare.


    Elion took a step back. “Uh. What—”


    Ronan didn’t seem fazed. If anything, his grin widened.


    “Your rings. Now.”


    Elion and Jordan exchanged a look, then raised their beast rings.


    The black smoke twisted unnaturally before shooting straight into their rings.


    Elion shivered. The moment it entered, he felt… off. Not in an “I-just-ate-spoiled-food” kind of way, but in a “something alive just crawled into my soul” kind of way.


    Jordan grimaced. “That was new.”


    Elion flexed his fingers, trying to shake off the eerie sensation. “Yeah. Real fun. Can’t wait to do it again.”


    Then, as trained, they took the corrupted rings from the fallen beast-men and dropped them into their sacks.


    Ronan clapped them both on the back, his smirk annoyingly smug.


    “Congratulations,” he said. “You killed your first beast-men.”


    Elion wiped blood from his lip. “Yeah. Feels great.”


    Jordan groaned. “I need a nap. A coma, actually.”


    Ronan chuckled. “Oh, trust me. This was nothing.” He cracked his knuckles. “It only gets harder from here.”


    Elion exhaled sharply, running a hand through his messy hair. But something still nagged at him.


    Elion’s mind raced as he watched the crow-man vanish into the night. There was something off about him—something that didn’t sit right.


    How did he know about Slayers?


    Not just in the way that a beast-man might recognize an enemy in battle.


    No, the crow-man spoke with certainty, like someone who understood what a Slayer was and what they were capable of.


    Elion frowned. Up until now, the beast-men they had fought felt like cannon fodder—brutal and vicious. They followed orders, but they didn’t seem to truly understand the bigger picture.


    Elion turned to Ronan. “So… does the corrupted ring actually force people to follow orders from this ‘Lord’ guy?”


    Ronan’s gaze flickered toward him, and after a beat, he nodded. “Sharp mind, Elion. Yes.”


    Elion tensed.


    Jordan frowned. “Wait—hold on. Are you saying that all these beast-men we’re fighting… they’re basically puppets?”


    Ronan rubbed the back of his neck. “Not entirely. The corrupted rings don’t control them like mindless zombies. But…” he exhaled, “they do twist their thoughts, warp their judgment, and bind their loyalty to the Lord.”


    Jordan’s face scrunched up. “That’s some next-level cult crap.”


    Elion’s thoughts spun. That meant the Lord could send beast-men after them at any time.


    He gritted his teeth. “That crow-man mentioned someone. Lady Leo.”


    Ronan’s expression darkened. “I was hoping you’d catch that.”


    Jordan blinked. “Uh… I didn’t.”


    Elion turned to him, exasperated. “Jordan, he literally said it.”


    Jordan threw up his hands. “Sorry for not being mister hyper-observant while fighting for my life!”


    Ronan ignored them. His eyes narrowed as he muttered, “So the Lord is trying to mimic the Zodiacs.”


    Elion crossed his arms. “Okay. What are the Zodiacs?”


    Jordan groaned. “Please don’t tell me we have to fight the entire horoscope.”


    Ronan actually laughed at that. “No, idiot. The Zodiacs are an organization in the Beast World. A big deal.”


    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    Jordan raised an eyebrow. “Like… a bad big deal?”


    Ronan rolled his shoulders. “If they were here? They’d be your biggest nightmare.”


    Elion frowned. “Wait—you don’t think these Zodiacs are the same ones from your world?”


    Ronan sighed. “No. But it''s still a problem.”


    Jordan scratched his head. “Uh… how is that a problem? Wouldn’t that make them weaker?”


    Ronan’s gray eyes darkened. “Not for you.”


    He leaned against the alley wall, his voice quieter. “If the Zodiacs on Earth are Earthlings, then I’m at a disadvantage.”


    Elion’s stomach dropped.


    Jordan frowned. “What? How?”


    Ronan glanced at them. “You two recover mana faster than me, right?”


    Elion froze.


    Jordan blinked. “Uh… yeah?”


    Ronan nodded. “That’s because you were born here. The energy of Earth is aligned with you.”


    Elion’s mouth felt dry. “But not with you.”


    Ronan clicked his tongue. “Took you long enough.”


    Jordan stared. “Wait. So that means—”


    Ronan sighed. “It means if I fight them, I may need to use my full power. And that, boys?” He stretched his arms lazily, but his tone was anything but relaxed. “That’s gonna be a problem.”


    Elion’s mind was still racing when something else clicked.


    “Wait.” He narrowed his eyes. “If you’re weaker here… I mean, with the golden black ring, then why not use your main beast ring?”


    Jordan’s head snapped up. “Oh, yeah! What is your main beast ring?”


    Ronan smirked. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”


    Elion and Jordan glared at him.


    “Dude,” Jordan said. “You literally just said you’re at a disadvantage. And now you’re keeping secrets?”


    Ronan shrugged. “Some things you learn when you’re ready.”


    Jordan groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “I hate you.”


    Ronan grinned. “I know.”


    Jordan threw his hands up. “Great. Love the mystery. Love the existential threats. Love that we’re apparently fighting a fake Zodiac army.”


    Ronan patted his shoulder. “Get used to it.”


    Then, his smirk faded. Elion, too.


    Ronan was impressed with what Elion was capable of.


    Elion’s gut twisted. "Someone was coming."


    He wasn’t sure how he knew, but the air felt heavier, charged. His instincts, honed by battle and whatever weird Slayer sixth sense he was developing, screamed at him to move.


    He turned to Ronan, who had already tensed, his sharp gaze flickering toward the alley’s entrance.


    “Move,” Ronan muttered. “Now.”


    Jordan, still catching his breath, blinked. “Wait, what—”


    “Move,” Ronan repeated, sharper this time.


    Luckily, superhuman stats were a hell of a thing. Without hesitation, Elion and Jordan pushed their tired bodies into motion, sprinting after Ronan as he led them toward the opposite end of the alley.


    Even with their lingering wounds, even with their exhaustion, they moved fast. The world blurred as their enhanced strength and speed kicked in, letting them pull off impossible feats with ease.


    Elion vaulted over a toppled dumpster without slowing. Jordan barely even needed to jump, his foot simply planting against the wall before pushing off effortlessly.


    Ronan, of course, moved like a ghost, navigating the terrain like he had memorized every inch of the city.


    The ground still trembled from the aftershocks of battle, the air thick with the lingering scent of blood, dust, and something else—something dark.


    And then they arrived.


    From the alley entrance, a squad of fully armed operatives flooded in, moving with lethal precision. Their movements were sharp, too disciplined, too efficient, nothing like standard law enforcement.


    This wasn’t SWAT.


    This was something beyond it.


    Their armor was sleek and reinforced, a tactical black with dark blue plating along the arms and shoulders. Their helmets were fully enclosed, and the visors were ghostly reflective silver that masked their faces entirely. No visible insignia, no clear markings—just an eerie, faceless presence.


    Their rifles were unlike anything a regular task force would carry—sleek, modified, compact with reinforced barrels and pulse emitters along the sides. They weren’t just prepared for armed criminals.


    They were prepared for something else.


    At the front of it all, one figure stood out.


    A woman.


    She was fully geared up like the rest, but now, her helmet was tucked under her arm, allowing her sharp, piercing gaze to survey the scene. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a tight, no-nonsense ponytail, her face framed by a few loose strands.


    She had a smooth, unreadable expression, but the way her gloved fingers tapped against her thigh showed her mind was already working.


    This was Agent Paige Carter.


    And she didn’t like what she saw.


    She took a slow step forward, scanning the destruction—the cracked pavement, the scorch marks, the remains of a fight that shouldn’t have happened in a city like this.


    Then, her gaze landed on the bodies.


    Two beast-men.


    Their now half-monstrous forms frozen in death, twisted and wrong. The very sight of them made something coil in her gut—disgust? Intrigue?


    Maybe both.


    Paige Carter stepped forward, her boots crunching against the shattered pavement. The air was thick with the stench of blood, smoke, and something else—something unnatural.


    Her voice was calm but edged with steel. "Alright. Someone tell me why we got here just in time to be too late."


    A tall, broad-shouldered officer moved beside her. His reinforced armor didn’t slow him down, and the glowing blue interface of his datapad cast eerie shadows on his visor.


    “Agent Carter,” he started, his tone clipped and professional. “We got the call just minutes ago. We moved as fast as we could.”


    She didn’t look at him. She was still scanning. Processing.


    She knew the team was fast—getting here in minutes was already impressive.


    Still, not fast enough.


    “Who reported this?” she asked.


    The officer pointed toward a nearby high-rise. “A few people from the upper floors. Means we’ve got witnesses.”


    Paige exhaled sharply. Fantastic. Witnesses meant reports, reports meant red tape, and red tape meant she’d be filing paperwork for the next week.


    She folded her arms. “How many people were involved?”


    The officer scrolled through his pad, his visor pulsing slightly as he processed intel. “At least five. Three were described as… monsters. The other two were fighting them.”


    Paige’s brow lifted. “Fighting?”


    The squad was no stranger to monsters. They had been dealing with these things for a long time—longer than most people would believe.


    But fighters? That was new.


    Her team used weapons. Coordinated tactics. Years of specialized training.


    Not this.


    Not whatever raw, destructive brawl had just gone down in this alley.


    Paige crouched, brushing her fingers against the cracked ground, taking in the sheer force of the damage. No blades. No bullets. Just power.


    She straightened. “Any IDs on the two fighters?”


    The officer shook his head. “Nothing yet.”


    Paige''s mind flickered back to another mess—the Xylo Club Incident. The surveillance, the witnesses, the reports.


    Two names stood out back then. Two people at the center of it all. Elion Hayes and Jordan Walker.


    The same two who were now missing after yet another monster fight.


    Coincidence? Not a damn chance.


    She kept her expression neutral. “CCTV?”


    “We’re pulling the footage now.”


    Paige exhaled through her nose. “Do it fast.”


    She turned, letting her gaze sweep over the wreckage again. Something wasn’t adding up.


    Elion Hayes and Jordan Walker. Were they really involved in this?


    And if they were…


    How?


    When she first got the report back at HQ, some of her operatives had whispered behind her.


    “They could be dead, too.”


    “Yeah. If they were in a fight like this, maybe they didn’t make it out.”


    Paige frowned. No. She didn’t believe that.


    Because if they were dead?


    Where the hell were their bodies?


    Among all the chaos, the damage, and the destruction since last night—there were only two corpses other than the officers.


    None of them were Elion or Jordan.


    And that, more than anything, made Paige certain of one thing.


    Elion Hayes and Jordan Walker were still alive.


    Which meant... they knew something.


    Something big.


    Right now, those two were the key to everything.


    Paige Carter straightened, rolling her shoulders back as she took one last sweeping look at the alley. The wreckage, the bodies, the sheer chaos left behind—it all screamed one thing.


    They were already too far behind.


    She turned to her squad, her voice sharp, cutting through the tension like a blade. "We''re done here. Pack it up. I want full reports on my desk the moment we get back to HQ."


    The officers moved immediately, their reinforced boots echoing against the cracked pavement as they secured the area, marking evidence and tagging the corpses.


    The efficiency of the team was undeniable, but Paige still felt the weight of time slipping through her fingers.


    She exhaled. "Pull every CCTV feed in a five-block radius. I want eyes on what happened here before, during, and after the fight. And get me a full list of witnesses—we need to know exactly what they saw and what they think they saw."


    One of her officers nodded. “And what about the missing two?”


    Paige’s eyes darkened. "We find them."