Beyond Realities

One of the five stepped forward.

He looked thin and tall, his green eyes glowing eerily under messy black hair that fell like insect legs. His hands moved like hooks, his posture hunched in an awkward stance. He didn't blink.

"You can call me Mantis," he said with a crooked smile. "I fight clean. No weapons. Just fists."

I smirked.

"Fair enough. I'll put my scythe away too."

I reached behind my back and slipped the scythe into my shadow, sealing it with a small flick of mana. The air felt lighter without it.

I cracked my neck and raised my fists.

Grim chuckled in my head.

"This'll be fun. Don't embarrass yourself, partner."

"Watch and learn."

Mantis came fast. His strikes were precise—like sharp, snapping blades. Elbows, knees, swipes—it was clear he trained in a deadly martial art. I blocked the first two swipes, but he ducked and kicked my shin, causing me to shift weight.

I grinned.

"You're quick."

"So are you," he hissed, jumping into a spinning kick.

I ducked, swept his leg, but he flipped and landed on his hands, springing backward like a bug.

"Yep. Definitely a mantis."

We danced around each other. His hits were surgical. I had to focus, not because he was stronger than me, but because I didn't want to accidentally break him.

He dove again, this time striking at my side. I blocked, trapped his wrist, and spun him—then used his own momentum to slam him to the ground.

But he rolled, popped up again, and smirked.

"You're good."

"You're not bad yourself," I replied, panting lightly.

Grim whispered:

"Don't forget. Observe, learn, then dominate."

I nodded. I watched Mantis carefully—he had a pattern. Every third attack came from the left. He used his left leg more, his right elbow always late.

He leapt again.

This time, I caught his wrist mid-air and pulled him in—

WHAM!

Elbow to his stomach. He gasped, eyes wide.

Then I lifted him slightly and slammed him onto the ground with a thud that cracked the dirt.

Silence.

Even the crowd stopped breathing.

Mantis groaned, raised his hand, and tapped the ground twice.

"I yield."

I exhaled, offered him a hand, and pulled him up.

He grinned, wiping the blood off his lip.

"That was fun. Don't die early."

"Wasn't planning to."

After Mantis tapped out and limped back to the sidelines, I let out a deep breath, cracking my neck. I thought that was it.

One down, four more to go…

He returned to the group of awakened fighters, wiping blood from his chin, and gave me a serious nod. I respected that. He was strong. Technical. But not reckless.

Then, one of them stepped forward—a tiny little girl.

She couldn't have been more than ten or eleven in appearance, wearing a frilly black-and-pink dress and had fluffy cotton-candy pink hair tied in twin buns. Her eyes were strange though—rings of black circled her irises like ripples in a cursed pond, and long triple lashes gave her a haunting, eerie stare.

She looked… innocent.

"Eh?" I blinked.

"Be careful with that one," Mantis said as he sat down. "She's merciless."

The girl began walking toward me—small steps, arms swaying like she was just taking a stroll in a candy shop.

I tilted my head, confused.

"What's a little girl doing in a gang like this?" I whispered.

She walked up to me, not saying a word. Her tiny hand reached out toward me, palm open.

"Huh? Are you... trying to shake hands?"

I hesitated for a second. Then shrugged and smiled.

"I mean... sure?"

I reached down and shook her hand.

That was the moment Grim yelled in my mind.

"VAEL—BACK AWAY!!"

BOOOOM!!!

The explosion was instantaneous.

I flew backward, tumbling and flipping through the air before I slammed into a market stall, demolishing crates of apples and scattering planks of wood. Smoke curled from my fingers, my glove half-burnt, my palm red and sizzling.

"GAAHH—WHAT THE—!"

I scrambled to my feet, coughing, eyes wide.

In the smoke, a new figure stepped forward. It was the real girl, standing casually with her hands in her pocket. The one I shook hands with? A clone.

And that clone?

A damn bomb.

"Oh man," the real one giggled. "That was close! You've got fast reflexes for an old guy."

"OLD GUY!?"

I felt a vein pop in my forehead. I swear I heard thunder crack behind me.

"I'M NOT OLD!"

She just gave me that annoying teasing smirk, bouncing on her heels like she hadn't just tried to kill me.

"I'm Bamby," she said sweetly, then tilted her head creepily, eyes wide. "Nice to blow you up~."

"Okay. That's it."

She lifted one hand.

POOF!

Dozens of clones began spawning from behind her—all identical to the one that just exploded in my face. Each one had a devilish grin, tilting their heads at unnatural angles.

"Let's play boom-boom tag!" Bamby cheered.

The crowd gasped as the clones started running straight toward me, giggling like a horde of cursed dolls.

"Nope, I'm done!" I growled.

I reached into my shadow and pulled out my scythe, the divine steel glinting as light bent unnaturally around it.

"You're sending bombs at me, I'm sending you back to nap time!"

Grim chuckled in my mind.

"Finally taking things seriously, huh?"

"You didn't warn me she was a walking demolition team!"

"Didn't want to ruin the surprise."

The first clone jumped.

I spun, sliced it mid-air. BOOM. The explosion shook the ground.

I covered my body with a thin layer of shadow aura, dampening the impact, but I skidded backward.

Another came. BOOM.

Then three more. I twirled the scythe like a spinning windmill, cutting through the incoming clones before they could latch on. My cloak fluttered, smoke rising all around me.

"You think you're cute, huh!?" I shouted.

"I know I am~!" Bamby grinned. "And you're losing."

"Tch—she's right." They were closing in.

I leapt into the air, flipping sideways to avoid a clone's detonation, and landed hard on my feet. I twirled the scythe again—this time I charged forward, slicing through the middle like I was clearing a field of mines.

BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.

The clones vanished in a chain of explosions, but I managed to reach Bamby, my scythe inches from her neck.

She just stared up at me, eyes wide.

"One wrong move," I warned, panting.

"I'm out of clones anyway," she replied, then whistled and stepped back. "That was fun~!"

She twirled and skipped back to her group like she was leaving kindergarten recess.

"This town is insane," I muttered.

Grim laughed.

"And you just made friends with the worst playground."

As Bamby skipped back to her comrades, sticking out her tongue at me like she just won a game—

"Blehhh~ loser!"

—I gritted my teeth, taking one step forward to chase after her.

"Oh no you don't."

Suddenly, a massive shadow loomed above me.

THUD!

Something fell from the sky.

A massive figure—no, a living mountain—slammed down between me and Bamby with a powerful quake. The whole street shook as the cobblestones cracked under his weight.

Dust exploded outward like a mini shockwave.

I coughed, squinting through the debris.

"What the hell—"

As the dust cleared, I saw a towering man, his entire body made of cracked brown rock. His muscles were carved like statues, veins glowing faintly beneath the surface like magma lines. His eyes were deep yellow, glowing with primal fury.

He stood there, unmoving—like a living boulder with legs.

"Heh. You look surprised," he said in a deep, grumbling voice like a collapsing cave.

"Name's Brock."

I blinked.

"Seriously?"

"Yes," he said, pounding one rocky fist into the other. "Because I break things."

Grim snorted inside my head.

"That's it. We're fighting a sentient boulder."

"More like a rock who lifts."

Brock cracked his neck, then grinned with his stony jaw.

"Let's smash."

And then—he charged.

"W-Whoa—!"

I barely had time to raise my scythe as he bulldozed toward me, the ground trembling with every step. He was fast, way faster than a boulder should be.

He threw a punch.

I blocked with the scythe—

CLANG!

The force rattled my bones. My heels dug into the stone floor as I slid back a few meters.

"You block well, kid," Brock grunted. "But can you handle this!?"

He raised both fists and slammed the ground.

A shockwave erupted.

The road cracked beneath us as spikes of stone jutted up from the earth, trying to impale me from below.

"Tch—!"

I flipped backward, narrowly dodging one of the pillars, then dashed in low, spinning the scythe to aim at his legs.

CLANG!

My blade scraped across his calf, leaving only sparks.

"Damn... it's like trying to cut a mountain."

"He's coated with awakened stone aura,"

Grim explained. "Normal strikes won't do much unless you hit him with enough impact to crack the outer shell."

"Right. So... break the rock."

Brock lunged again, swinging wide.

I ducked, using my momentum to slide under his legs, and slashed upward at his back. A shallow cut. He barely flinched.

"That tickled," he said, turning around.

He jumped—yes, jumped, like a whole mountain defying gravity—and came crashing down again, trying to crush me like a bug.

"You're freaking insane!" I yelled as I dodged.

"More like persistent!" Brock roared.

I raised the scythe, focusing.

Grim's voice guided me.

"Focus your movement. Speed and angle matter more than brute force. Spin the scythe like the edge of a falling guillotine—channel the motion through your hips!"

"You better be right about this!"

As Brock charged again, I ran toward him instead.

At the last second, I dropped low, twisting my entire body and letting the scythe swing upward in a tight spiral—

WHAM!

It struck Brock right on his exposed side, the one place not fully reinforced.

CRACK!!

A thin fracture ran up his ribs. He grunted, stumbling backward.

"Oooh," I grinned. "Cracks are showing."

"Hmph," he said. "Lucky hit."

He raised his hands, channeling more earth energy. Spikes formed on his shoulders and fists, his entire body glowing orange beneath the rock.

"Time for Phase Two," he growled.

"Grim?"

"...Run."

"WHAT!?"

Brock charged, now glowing like an overclocked golem.

"HERE COMES THE BOULDER!!"

Brock thundered forward, both of his massive arms glowing like molten stone. The crowd screamed and scattered as the whole street trembled beneath his stomping feet.

"You better dodge, Vael!" Grim barked.

"Like I have a choice!?"

I jumped—barely—as Brock's first punch slammed into the earth below me, exploding the ground into shattered debris. A crater formed under his fist like a meteor strike.

I twisted mid-air, landed on a broken lamppost, and flipped off it to hurl my scythe like a whip at his face.

"YAAAH—!"

CLANG!

It struck his chin—he staggered.

"Nice shot," Grim whispered.

"Now follow up."

I rushed in again, keeping low. The scythe spun in my grip like an extension of my arm. I aimed straight for the cracked rib from earlier—

"GOT YOU!" Brock shouted.

His trap.

His knee shot up—BAM!

It slammed into my chest like a cannonball. The wind burst from my lungs. I flew back, smashed into a market stall, breaking crates of vegetables and some poor grandma's tomatoes.

"Ugh... not the tomatoes," I groaned, coughing.

"You good?" Grim asked.

"I think my soul just left my body for two seconds... but yeah, I'm alive."

Brock stomped forward, dragging his glowing fists through the dirt like twin hammers charging up. His body now burned with stone aura, molten cracks glowing across his arms and legs.

"You pushed me this far, kid," he growled. "So let me return the favor... FULL POWER!!"

"Oh no..." I muttered.

He raised both arms and slammed them down together—BOOOOM!!!

A wave of force burst outward, shattering the street and sending a ring of debris in every direction. The people watching screamed and ducked behind walls. Even Bamby and Mantis looked shocked.

I coughed, standing slowly.

"Alright, Grim... I think I've had enough."

"You sure?"

"No. But we're doing it anyway."

My aura flared. It wasn't mana—but something more ancient. Grim's essence flowed through my veins, empowering my limbs. The shadow of my scythe reformed in my hand. It gleamed—a divine weapon, no longer ordinary steel.

"This ends now."

Brock charged again.

I dashed forward.

Our weapons clashed—scythe vs. stone. Sparks flew. Shockwaves cracked the air.

Each strike I made, I used what Grim taught me. Movement. Flow. Precision.

Not brute strength—leverage.

I ducked under a punch, spun to his flank, and slammed my scythe into the same cracked rib—BOOM!

This time, the crack deepened. Brock roared.

"You little—"

I wasn't done.

I launched into the air, twisted mid-spin, and brought the scythe crashing down on his shoulder like the reaper himself.

CRAAACK!

His stone body shattered on one side. He dropped to one knee.

"You fight like... you've trained with gods," Brock muttered, panting.

"No," I said, raising the scythe again. "I just have one living inside my head."

"Yup." Grim smirked in my mind.

With a final spinning strike, I swept his legs from under him and slammed the scythe hilt to his chest.

BOOM!

He was down.

Silence filled the air. Dust settled. The crowd gasped. Even the Snake gang stared in disbelief.

Brock lay flat, breathing hard but grinning.

"Well damn... I guess you win."

I stood tall, panting too, but smiling.

"Told you. I'm stronger than I look."

Brock collapsed with a thunderous crash that shook the street—his massive rock-like body crumbling to the ground in defeat. Dust rose, people gasped, and the crowd watching erupted in awe and disbelief.

I stood there, chest heaving, sweat dripping, barely holding my scythe upright. That hulking monster had taken everything I had to bring down. My arms ached, my legs felt like collapsing, but at least… I won.

I wiped the sweat from my brow.

"That's three down…" I muttered. "Two more to go."

Grim's voice echoed in my head.

"Not bad. But keep your guard up—"

But before he could finish, a flash of light streaked toward me—fast, deadly, and silent.

SLASH!

Pain exploded across my chest. Blood sprayed into the air. My body was launched backward and slammed into the stone wall. I couldn't even scream. I hit the ground hard, vision spinning, world ringing.

I looked down.

Blood poured from a deep, clean slice across my torso.

A shadow stepped out in front of me.

A tall man, calm and composed, stood there like a phantom. His hair was long, pale blue, tied neatly. His eyes—thin, sharp, unreadable. He wore a flowing blue battle robe, with a sword now stained in my blood. His very presence made the air cold.

"You're strong," he said flatly.

Then he turned his back to me and walked away—toward the rest of the Snake gang's elite. The others, including Bamby and Mantis, and Brock regrouped as if nothing happened. Their leader, Orang, unconscious nearby, was now nothing but dead weight.

"W-Wait…" I croaked, trying to lift myself.

My arms wouldn't move.

Grim's voice echoed faintly.

"Damn it. I told you…"

I lay there, fading, watching as city guards finally arrived on the scene. The crowd screamed and scattered. The entire Snake gang—what was left of it—was being rounded up. But not the five.

The elite members vanished into the crowd, calm and untouched.

As the guards approached where I lay, someone stepped in.

A cloaked figure.

A girl.

She grabbed my arm and pulled me quickly behind a row of barrels near the alley. Somehow, despite my weight, she dragged me with impressive strength.

"H-Hey…" I whispered.

"Shh," she hushed. "Stay down."

The guards stormed past us, unaware.

I slumped into the alley wall, blood soaking my clothes. My breath came in sharp, pained gasps.

Grim whispered,

"You should've listened, Vael… but at least you're still breathing."

I turned to the girl.

"Who… are you?"

She didn't answer. Instead, she pressed a glowing cloth to my wound. It stung, but I bit my tongue.

"Don't die here," she finally muttered.

My vision blurred, but I could still see her faintly through the haze.

And then…

Everything faded to black.