The night air was colder than usual.Not just from Aryan's Pulse, but from the weight of what was about to unfold.
The two figures crouched low beneath the tree line, the glow of the Blade Headquarters visible between thick branches. Its high steel walls gleamed under the moonlight, guarded by floodlights and a perimeter of heavily armed soldiers.
Kale adjusted the blade strapped to his back. "There they are. Twenty guards. Maybe more inside."
Aryan didn't answer immediately. He stared through the gaps in the leaves, his jaw tight.
"Those aren't just guards," he finally said. "Some of them are Plusers. I can feel it."
Kale looked over at him. "Still going with this plan?"
Aryan turned, his voice calm but firm. "Yes. We go now, before the World Government can respond. If we wait... they'll shut us down before we can do anything."
Kale nodded. "You sure you can handle the gate on your own?"
Aryan smirked slightly. "Just make sure you're not late coming back out."
With that, he stood. The moonlight caught the edges of his cloak as he stepped out from the shadows and into the clearing.
The change in the air was instant.
The grass beneath his boots crackled with frost. The wind stilled. The guards didn't even notice him until he was already raising his hand.
A deep breath. A pulse of energy.
And then it came.
A wave of cold burst from Aryan's core, sweeping across the field like a glacier come to life. The guards didn't even have time to shout. Within seconds, they were frozen in place, ice crawling up their legs, across their armor, and locking their expressions in glassy, silent horror.
Kale moved the moment the cold hit. While alarms blared from within the building, he slipped through a maintenance door left ajar in the chaos. He vanished into the shadows inside.
Aryan stayed back, eyes scanning the frozen soldiers, each one locked in place.
He exhaled, a misty breath curling in front of his face.
It should've been over.
But then—
Crack.
A single, sharp sound cut through the quiet like a knife.
Aryan's head turned.
One of the frozen statues twitched. A hairline fracture appeared in the ice surrounding it. A second later, it shattered outward, sending shards flying.
The man inside stepped forward, steam rising off his body.
He was tall, muscular, and bare-chested beneath broken armor. His skin was flushed red, almost glowing. Flames danced along his shoulders, pulsing with each breath like a heartbeat.
Aryan muttered, "Fire Pulse…"
The man sneered, flexing his fingers. "That was cute. Now it's my turn."
But before Aryan could respond, a blur of motion flickered beside him. He barely turned in time to see the second figure break free—this one moved faster than Aryan could track.
A burst of shattered ice marked where he once stood, but now he was ten feet to the left. Then twenty. Then behind him.
A Speed Pulse user.
Great.
Aryan gritted his teeth. "Perfect. A sprinter and a walking volcano."
Then came the third.
A deep rumble rolled across the ground. Aryan looked back toward the final cracking sound. From the center of the frozen row, the thickest layer of ice began to bulge outward, groaning with pressure before exploding in chunks.
The man inside stepped forward with slow, heavy steps. His entire body seemed to be covered in a layer of rough, stone-like armor—thick, jagged, and cracked in places like old bark. His eyes burned with dull orange light.
A Hardening Pulse. Maybe even Earth-based.
Three of them. All elite. All alive.
Aryan took a step back and lifted his guard. This wasn't how he planned it. He had hoped the ice would buy Kale at least fifteen minutes. But now…
Now they were awake.
The fire user cracked his knuckles. "You think you can walk up to our front door, freeze our brothers, and get away with it?"
Aryan's hands flexed, the cold pulsing around him. "I was hoping to."
The speed user darted back and forth, testing him. "We should've killed you when we had the chance. Whatever you're trying to do, it ends here."
Aryan didn't blink. "Then try."
The three circled him slowly, like wolves around an injured prey. But Aryan didn't flinch. He could feel it again—that strange pressure in his chest. A second power. Something unfamiliar... but alive. As if something inside him was waiting.
Waiting for this.
He didn't understand it yet. But he would.
Later.
For now, he tightened his stance and readied his Pulse.
Because the next chapter wasn't about fear.
It was about the fight.