Videos of Fred and the Dānavas spread like wildfire. Grainy footage of a man floating in the air, monstrous creatures emerging from rifts in reality, entire city blocks frozen in time—then erased.
The world was losing its mind.
- Conspiracy forums: "Government super-soldier experiment gone wrong!"*
- Religious groups:"The End Times are here!"
- Scientists:"Mass hallucination? Advanced holograms?"
Governments scrambled to suppress the truth, but it was too late. The cracks were no longer just in reality—they were in humanity's perception of it.
Fred scrolled through the chaos on a stolen phone, then tossed it aside.
"Waste of time."
Hakka agreed.
***"They will learn the truth soon enough."***
---
Hakka had pieced it together.
This realm—Earth—was hidden for a reason.
**Human souls were the key.**
-** Positive emotions (hope, love, joy):** Fueled the barrier, keeping the realm invisible. When their soul filled with it ,it will create pure form of energy and fuel the barrier
- **Negative emotions (despair, rage, greed):** Corroded the barrier, creating fractures.
The Dānavas weren't just invading.
They were *harvesting.*
---
Fred stood over the corpse of the scientist Hakka had inspected.
His soul had been *rotten*—overflowing with chaos energy. A walking fracture.
Hakka's voice was grim.
***"He was not the first. Not the last."***
Fred clenched his fists. "So what? We just… kill every miserable human on the planet?"
***"No."*** Hakka's presence darkened. ***"We find the source. The one amplifying the despair."***
---
Someone was tipping the scales.
Making humans suffer *more.*
Making the fractures *wider.*
And the Dānavas?
Just pawns.
Fred cracked his neck.
"Let's go hunting."
---
Hakka hesitated.
***"Fred. There is one more thing."***
Fred waited.
***"Human souls… are not native to this realm."***
A pause.
***"They were *put* here."***
-----
The weight of exhaustion finally pulled Vin under, his body sinking into the thin mattress of his cramped apartment. For once, his mind wasn't haunted by memories of blood, his sister's scorn, or the echoing taunts of *orphan*.
Tomorrow was his shot.
-Win the regionals, and he'd have sponsors.
No more double shifts. No more rationing meals.
Elena. She'd smiled. Maybe, just maybe, the world wasn't entirely cursed.
A flicker of hope—dangerous, fragile—warmed his chest as sleep took him.
The morning air was crisp, the track empty except for Vin's lone figure stretching under the pale dawn light. His muscles burned with familiar tension—**today was the day.**
- No ghosts.
- No regrets.
- Just the race.
He wiped his face with his towel, gulped down water from his bottle, and didn't notice the faint, bitter aftertaste.
When the others arrived, they avoided him—eyes averted, whispers stifled. Only Steve approached, a smirk hidden behind feigned worry.
"You good, Vin? You look... tense."
Vin shrugged, too focused to read the malice in Steve's gaze.
*"Never better."*
A lie.
But one he almost believed.
---
The Race Begins
The starting gun cracked, and Vin's body *surged* before his mind could catch up.
The drug—some synthetic steroid, his brain calculated—had turned his blood to fire. His muscles screamed, not with strain, but with *power*. The world blurred at the edges, the other runners reduced to sluggish silhouettes.
*Too fast.*
He forced himself to lag, to let two others pull ahead. His lungs burned—not from exhaustion, but from the sheer effort of *holding back*.
**Second place.**
The crowd roared. Scouts scribbled notes. His heartbeat pounded in his ears, louder than the applause.
*No one suspects anything.*
---
**The Second Race**
This time, he misjudged.
A stumble at the start—fake, deliberate—but his body *corrected* too perfectly. He crossed the line first by a full second.
A coach's eyes narrowed.
*Shit.*
---
The Final Race
Vin's hands shook as he took his mark. He needed to disappear—just another face in the pack.
He let his legs go numb, forcing a third-place finish. The crowd still cheered, but whispers slithered through the officials' booth.
"Kid's inconsistent as hell."
"Or he's playing us."
---
As the winners lined up for medals, a hand clamped Vin's shoulder.
Referee:"Random drug test. All podium finishers."
Vin's blood turned to ice.
Steve—fucking Steve—stood by the fence, face pale. Not smug. Not guilty. Terrified.
Then Vin saw the man beside him: Fisher, grinning like a wolf.
*Of course.*
Fisher hadn't just drugged him.
He'd planned the test.
---
The steroid wasn't just illegal—it was military-grade, the kind that leaves traces for weeks.
The scouts walked away.
The scholarship evaporated.
But worst of all?
Elena was in the stands.
Her face—hope crumbling to disgust—was the only punishment that mattered.
---
Vin's struggle to lose is more gripping than any victory.
Steve's fear hints he was blackmailed, deepening the conflict.
He didn't just cheat—he engineered Vin's public ruin.
The stadium lights burned too bright. The cheers of the crowd had turned to murmurs, then to silence as Vin stood there—disqualified, exposed, ruined.
But he didn't scream. Didn't lunge at Fisher.
He just smiled.
A quiet, terrible thing.
Steve's hands trembled at his sides. He couldn't meet Vin's eyes. The truth was written in the way his shoulders hunched—*I had no choice.*
Fisher's smirk faltered.
Why wasn't Vin breaking?
---
Vin knew the truth without asking.
Fisher's father owned half the city. Steve's dad? A low-level clerk in the permits office. One call, and his family would be homeless by sundown.
Steve had chosen blood over loyalty.
And Vin?
He would have done the same.
---
Elena turned her back.
That hurt worse than the disqualification. Worse than the whispers.
His sister—the last person who might have believed in him—now saw him as just another cheat.
His fists clenched. His pulse roared in his ears.
He could kill Fisher right now.
But what good would it do?
The milk was already spilled.
---
Fisher had expected tears. Begging. Maybe even violence.
Instead, Vin thanked Steve with a smile.
No words. Just understanding.
And that—that—was worse than any revenge.
Because it meant Vin was still stronger.
---
Vin left the stadium without a word, his head high.
Steve collapsed the moment he was alone, vomiting behind the bleachers.
Fisher's victory tasted like ash.
And somewhere, deep in Vin's chest, something *dark* snapped.
Not rage.
But strings.
--
Vin didn't stop. Didn't turn back.
His backpack, phone, even his jacket—left behind like shed skin. He didn't need them anymore. The scholarship was gone. Elena was gone. The world had shown him its teeth, and he refused to flinch.
The wind bit at his bare arms, but he barely felt it.
Somewhere behind him, Fisher's laughter faded.
Somewhere, Steve wept.
And somewhere—far, far away—something watched.
---
Thirty minutes later, murmurs rippled through the crowd.
"They're re-testing."
"Not just Vin—everyone."
Steve, still shaking, stumbled toward the commotion.
The officials looked pale. The lab results glowed on the screen:
- Top three finishers: Positive.
- The next five: Positive.
- The entire qualifying heat: All positive.
A hushed silence fell.
"This wasn't one cheat," a referee muttered. "This was sabotage."
---
Fisher had been smug—right up until they called *his* name for testing.
His face drained of color.
Because he hadn't drugged himself.
Someone else had.
And now his perfect revenge was crumbling.
---
- The water bottles. Laced. Not just Vin's—*everyone's*.
- The drug? Not just steroids. Something experimental. Military-grade. The kind that leaves a signature.
And the signature matched Glynn Industries.
---
Steve's tears dried. His hands stopped shaking.
Because if everyone was drugged…
Then Vin hadn't cheated.
And Fisher?
Fisher had been played.
---
- Fisher's father was furious. A scandal like this could cost him contracts.
- The scouts left—but not before flagging every athlete for lifetime bans.
- Elena , halfway home, got the notification. Her steps slowed. Vin hadn't lied.
And Vin?
Vin was already gone.
29 Hours Ago –
The private jet touched down with a whisper of luxury. Levi Martin inhaled the crisp air, grinning.
"Haaaaa, it smells goooood."
Not the city. Not the pollution.
Power.
He was here for business—officially. Unofficially? He was here to fix a problem.
Business first. Pleasure later.
---
But as he prepared to leave, a thought struck him—Glynn Industries.
*Might as well check in on the old man.*
----
Levi's fingers drummed against his thigh as his car glided through the city.
- The Mexico incident had shut down his human trials.
The Lycaon serum—derived from the auction's fangs—was so close to perfection.
But the board had cold feet.
"Too volatile."
"Unethical."
Levi scoffed. "Since when did ethics build empires?"
---
At Glynn Industries HQ, Levi lounged in the lobby, ignored—intentionally. Mr. Glynn made even his own grandson wait.
Then he heard it.
a voice. Loud. Whiny.
Fisher Glynn.
Mr. Glynn's grandson.
And he was throwing a tantrum in the lobby.
Fisher Glynn, red-faced, arguing with the receptionist:
"I just need one dose! For tomorrow's race! It's not a big deal!"I want that bastard humiliated !"
Levi's ears perked up.
Sabotage? Drugs?
A slow smile spread across his face.
Levi's smile sharpened.
Oh, but it was.
---
A single call. A hushed deal.
Levi's team replaced Fisher's "harmless" steroid with Lycaon-X—his experimental enhancer.
The twist? It wasn't just for Vin. Every athlete's water was spiked.
- If it failed? The Glynn name would burn for sabotage.
And If it worked? Levi would have proof the serum was viable and human trial data
---
- Fisher never knew he'd been used.
-The athletes collapsed, raged, or—like Vin—changed.
-The scandal erupted, Glynn Industries floundering under investigations.
And Levi?
He was already on his jet, reviewing blood samples.
"Interesting," he murmured, staring at Vin's results. "No side effects. Just... adaptation."
---
The old man didn't mention the race. Neither did Levi.
They spoke of stocks. Of relics. Of the "new era"coming.
But when Levi left, Mr. Glynn's final words followed him:
"You play dangerous games, Levi."
Levi smirked. "No. I win them."
Levi was truly a cunning man .
But the old man was something even more . He Puffed the news that was spreading like wildlife in matter of hours .
He informed officials " we were on attempt of making energy water just like energy dring but this was a proto type . It got mixed by mistake. And I'll compensate the for the damge " and that's it , the news ended .
Then he called this son , Mark glynn. " Son i do not play this fucking child's play. if you wanna play, play out the company. If something like this happens one more time, and that will last time you play " and he left .
Mark was scared to death.
What is father said was a THREAT not a WARNING .
" Oh , and son I'll be out of reach for a year . Look after my babies. And don't do anything stupid, understand? "
" Yes , father " mark was shivering.
Then mark chewed his son .Fisher .
Fisher was furious, he couldn't control his rage and done something. Something that made the downfall off GLYNN INDUSTRIES.