Left in Rage

It's him, one of the three monsters from NIGHTFALL who killed his father and left his mother to rot in suffering.

Akira freezes.

His entire body locks in place, as if struck by lightning.

His heart pounds in his chest—not with fear—but with something darker, something far worse.

His breath slows, then deepens, and a tremor runs through him as his fists curl tightly, knuckles turning bone-white.

"Not now. Not here."

Akira's heart beats like a war drum, the sound reverberating through his chest.

His mind races—calculating, weighing, thinking.

"I should wait."

"I should step back, get out of here before I lose control entirely.I'm still not ready for this…"

His eyes narrow, and the man before him seems to grow larger, his presence suffocating. Akira can't tear his gaze away.

"I'll gather more strength. I'll level up. I'll be better prepared... maybe another day..."

The voice inside his head, calm, rational, clings to him like the last breath of sanity on the edge of a cliff.

"I'll make him pay. But I need more power. I need more control. I can't fall apart now. Not here. Not in front of him. Not in the middle of Seoul."

The seconds tick by, slow as eternity, but with each passing moment, the fire inside him grows—fiercer, hotter, burning away his reasoning.

The sight of that man is like striking a match to a powder keg. The storm inside Akira threatens to consume him.

"Wait!!"

For the briefest moment, reason claws at his mind, a dying whisper trying to hold him back.

But then-

His pupils shrink. A cold shiver runs down his spine before vanishing into raw, unfiltered rage.

His vision sharpens. His breath turns ragged. His entire being snaps.

"WHAT THE FUCK AM I THINKING?!?!"

"No, No, No, No, No, No, NO"

"WAIT FOR WHAT?"

"I'VE WAITED TOO LONG ALREADY. THIS IS MY FUCKING CHANCE."

"ALL THAT RAGE"

"ALL THAT SELF PROCLAIMED RESOLVE"

"SHAME ON YOU AKIRA SHOTO SHAME!!"

His thoughts spiral, a furious knot of rage.

"THERE IS NO 'ONE DAY NO 'BETTER TIME'. IT'S NOW OR NEVER.

"EITHER I KILL HIM OR HE KILLS ME"

The storm within him is no longer just a storm—it is the full force of a hurricane.

Something awakens deep inside him, clawing its way to the surface.

No—awakens is the wrong word.

It isn't waking.

It is being born.

A pure, unrelenting malice explodes from the very core of his being.

It's as if his shadow stretches unnaturally, twisting like a living thing on the pavement, his aura growing thick and suffocating, like a storm cloud enveloping the very air around him.

Akira's face contorts—his mask cracking.

What was once stoic and impassive now gives way to something feral, something monstrous.

His lips curl back in a snarl, teeth bared, while his calm, black eyes drain of all color, replaced by a furious, blinding white.

It's not just his expression that changes—HE HIMSELF CHANGES.

The very air around him becomes thick, oppressive.

People in the street instinctively cross the road, as if sensing something surrounding him.

Akira takes one step forward, the ground beneath his feet trembling with the force of his presence, as though the world itself is responding to the rage coiling inside him.

The corners of his vision dim as his focus sharpens—his gaze locking onto the man across the street, the man who thought he could escape.

He steps forward again.

"It's you."

The words are whispered, but they carry the weight of thunder, as Akira prepares to unleash hell itself.

He growled low and guttural, dripping with venom. 

The man, completely ignorant of the predator stalking him, chuckles along at something on his phone.

The casual, free laugh grates on Akira's ears like fingernails on a chalkboard.

"How dare he be laughing?"

"How dare he exist?"

Akira thinks to himself

"Do you remember the house you left in ruins?

"The family you tore apart?"

His breath catches and for a moment, his lips curl into something like a smile—but it's not one of amusement.

It's a promise of violence.

He takes another step forward, and this time, his aura flares uncontrollably, a ripple of white energy radiating from him.

People nearby glance over, some stopping in their tracks, their instincts screaming at them to run.

Akira's thoughts race, but one feeling dominates all others: Vengeance.

He didn't care not now not anymore at where he was or who's watching all that mattered is making this man pay.

The street filled with the resonance of people, 

Akira halts only a few feet away from the man, who casually leaned against the lamppost.

His fists clench rigid at his sides, nails digging into his palms and drawing thin streaks of blood.

"Do you remember me?"

Akira's voice cuts through the silence like a blade.

He looks up from his phone lazily, one eyebrow raised at the boy in front of him.

Tall, with a ruggedly built physique, that screamed danger.

His indifference was palpable his smirk mocking.

"Should I?"

He says flatly, his tone without interest.

He flicks his cigarette onto pavement and crushes it underfoot, never breaking eye contact.

But then his eyes lock onto Akira's—unnatural, glowing orbs of pure white—and the smirk fades, his posture stiffening.

"What the hell-"

"BAMMMMMM"

Akira's fist meets his jaw with a thunderous explosion of raw power before he can finish.

The impact sends him flying backward like a doll crashing into a parked car with a deafening CRUNCH.

Screams erupt around them as people scramble to flee.

The bustling street erupts into chaos, but Akira doesn't bat an eye.

His glowing white eyes stay fixed on the man, his breathing ragged, aura flaring wildly.

With a groan, he pulls himself to his feet and surveys the wreckage of the car.

A spit of blood from his split lip dribbles away across his hand.

His eyes narrow down, his face angry and perplexed.

"What the hell's wrong with you, kid?"

He growls. - "You got a death wish or somethin'?"

"Soul Infusion Active."

In an instant, his aura explodes into a cascade of pure white light, crackling with lightning arcs that scorch the pavement beneath him.

In but a second, Akira is in front of him again his movement nothing but a blur.

The man barely raises his arms before Akira's fist slams into his stomach, launching him into the air.

The impact hurls him through a store window, shards of glass scattering like rain.

Groaning, the man pushes up from the ground, amidst the remnants of the shattered display window.

His eyes widen in recognition, a voice trembling with disbelief.

"No… it can't be. You're—"

Akira roars, his voice like thunder as he launches himself forward.

"Today, you die!"

The agent barely rolls out of the way as Akira's fist crashes into the ground, leaving a small crater where the pavement used to be.

Dust and debris fill the air as Akira rises from the chaos, his eyes glowing intensely, locked on his prey.

"You took everything from me!"

Akira's voice breaks as the rage and hurt cut through.

"My father. my mother. my life!"

The agent scrambles to his feet desperate.

"FOOL, you don't understand—"

"Shut up!"

Akira cuts him off, his aura flaring even brighter.

Lightning crackles around his fists, sparking violently. In a blur of movement, faster than the agent can react, his fist slams into the man's face, sending him skidding across the street like a stone skipping over water.

The agent coughs, sending blood spraying off his lips, and tries to rise.

His legs buckle under him, and his eyes scan around frantically for an avenue of escape.

"You don't know what you're messing with, brat!"

He shouts, voice trembling.

"And you don't know what it feels like, having your family torn to shreds!"