Legacy's Wake

Ralphie, fueled by the weight of Hollow's twisted manipulation, clenched his fists and took a firm step forward, exhaling a sharp breath of heated air. His stance grew steadier, his resolve unwavering.

"You really don't have a clue how to treat a lady, do you?" His voice carried a scathing edge, eyes burning with contempt. "You kept her locked away, controlling her like some possession, all while feeding her lies—pretending to love her like a real father. But in the end, it was all just a sick game to you." He scoffed, his disgust evident. "The way you treated her… it makes me sick to my stomach."

Despite only knowing Stitch for a short time, Ralphie had seen enough. The weight of her pain, the betrayal she had endured—it was more than enough reason to act. And now, he was done standing by.

"And all this time… she doesn't even know the truth." Ralphie's voice grew sharper, his patience wearing thin. He tapped his toes against the ground, stretching his legs before straightening up, his chin high, his gaze locked onto Hollow's smug, infuriating grin.

"So tell me something, punk." His tone was laced with venom. "Were you the one who messed up her left eye? Is that why she has to cover her face with that damn eye patch?"

At the accusation, Hollow merely chuckled, crossing his arms as his grin stretched wider, exuding an air of cocky amusement.

"Not exactly," he mused, tilting his head. "She got that little scar when she was just a kid. I just… y'know, made things a little more interesting for her. Gave her something extra to remember." His tone dripped with mockery, a twisted delight in his words. "But nah, I was just being me, and she couldn't handle it. That's why she started hatin' on me. Poor girl's all scrambled upstairs now—can't even tell what's real and what's just another nightmare. Kinda tragic, ain't it?"

"Why are you wasting time on that guy, Ralphie?! Just kick his ass already!" Kou shouted, raising his arm, already bracing for a fight. But before he could step forward, Ralphie swung his arm out, signaling him to stand down.

Kou huffed but listened, staying back with the others, watching the tension build.

"I will kick his ass, don't worry," Ralphie assured, rolling his shoulders. "After all, he hurt a lady in the worst way possible."

A silent standoff stretched between them, both locking eyes, neither backing down. Finally, Hollow broke the silence with a twisted smirk, adding his own brand of entertainment to the moment.

"What's the matter, cook? Feelin' a little too invested?" His voice dripped with mockery. "Can't handle a little epilogue to Stitch's so-called happiness? C'mon, man… I already told you—she's a waste of space. Ain't worth the breath you're wasting on her."

Hollow's venomous words echoed through the rain-soaked streets, each syllable like a blade slicing through Ralphie's patience. The weight of everything Stitch had endured—the lies, the manipulation, the stolen years—pressed down on him like an unbearable burden. His restraint snapped like a frayed rope. If Hollow wanted to run his mouth, then Ralphie would shut it for him.

With a fierce lunge, Ralphie closed the distance in an instant, his stance shifting fluidly. Balancing on one foot, he drove his heel into the ground with explosive force. The impact sent a concussive shockwave surging forward, splitting the earth beneath them. Chunks of debris, dirt, and shattered cement erupted into the air, propelled by the raw energy of the strike.

The powerful surge rushed toward Hollow like a tidal wave of force, slamming into him with the impact of a cannonball. The sheer velocity sent him careening skyward, his body twisting midair like a ragdoll caught in a storm. But instead of flailing helplessly, Hollow adapted. With unnatural grace, he shifted his weight, adjusting his momentum in midair like he had complete control over gravity itself.

With a smooth, calculated motion, he landed back on the ground, barely rattled, his boots skidding slightly against the fractured pavement. Instead of showing anger or concern, he just chuckled, lifting his head to meet Ralphie's burning glare with a wide, cocky grin.

"Woo-hoo, now that was a ride." He dusted off his coat, cracking his neck with exaggerated ease. "Gotta admit, didn't expect ya to launch me like a damn firework. Finally got a taste of what it's like to fly." His laughter rang through the ruined street, sharp and mocking, as if Ralphie's attack had been nothing more than a joke to him.

"This guy's off his rocker on a whole other level," Elliott muttered, his fingers crackling with electricity, a storm of static dancing along his knuckles as he dropped into a low, coiled stance. His knees bent slightly, weight balanced on the balls of his feet, one arm raised to strike, the other held taut behind him—ready to lash out at a moment's notice.

"Hey, hey, relax, folks," Hollow snickered, stretching his arms out theatrically as he swayed side to side, shutting his eyes with an exaggerated smile. "I'm just messin' around here. You're all so bent out of shape over Stitch's little issue, but let me tell ya—it's just an eye. One tiny little thing." He giggled darkly, shaking his head slowly as if the whole world were a joke. His arms stayed raised, but his posture was as if he were mocking a surrender, a punkish defiance radiating from every word.

Kou clenched his fists, fury bubbling under his skin, but fear kept him frozen. He barely held back the urge to rush at the man. "Just an eye? You ruined her sight. You pushed her over the edge, made her doubt herself... made her insecure! How the hell is that a small thing? And that's not even mentioning the hellish life she had before that!"

The crew stood scattered across the yard, each of them watching Hollow with a mixture of disbelief and anger, as he casually strolled back, his steps slow and unbothered, like nothing was wrong.

"Aw, no need to make me sound worse than I already do, huh? I'm just one guy," Hollow drawled, letting his words hang in the air as his lips curled into a devilish grin. "One guy everyone in this city fears, even the Tideborns down below. They're so scared of me, they won't even come up to the surface. You lot? You're the only ones crazy enough to show up, except for those marine suits I never thought I'd have the pleasure of seeing. My spies? They've been handling their business flawlessly." His voice dripped with a twisted satisfaction, the words laced with punkish arrogance.

In the midst of the downpour, Kyora's eyes caught the shattered remnants of an artifact in Tarot's hands. It was clear he'd failed miserably at curbing her curiosity. Even with her expertise in weather, Kyora knew there was little she could do to control the relentless storm that raged around them.

To be continued...