The graveyard of Heronics was silent, save for the rustle of the wind. Ava approached Ron's final resting place, her simple blue clothes a stark contrast to the grey stone.
She stopped.
Someone was already there.
A man sat before the grave. He wore a crisp black shirt that strained against his broad shoulders and white pants. His gaze was fixed on the tombstone. It was a cold piece of granite that bore only a name and a death date—the space for his birth remained hauntingly blank.
Who is this? Ava wondered.
She stood a few paces behind him, expecting him to notice her and leave. Instead, the man let out a heavy, jagged sigh. "It seems," he whispered, "that I am late."
He turned his head just enough for their eyes to meet. His pupils were like ink—void of light. He was strikingly handsome, possessing a rugged, Masculine presence that felt heavy in the air.
Ava couldn't read him. He wasn't just a man; he was an anomaly.
"Are you an acquaintance of Ron?" the man asked, his voice a low rumble.
Ava nodded slowly. "I am his wife."
"So, you are Dream," he stated.
Ava shook her head. "No."
"I was told Ron had a wife," the man said, standing up. He kept rising until he towered over her at a staggering 6'11". He looked down at Ava, his eyes mirroring Ron's in a way that made her skin crawl.
"I never saw her, but I was told her name was Dream."
Fear, cold and instinctive, spiked in Ava's chest. She took a step back.
"Who are you?" He said calmly.
"I am Ava. Ron's second wife," she managed, her throat parched.
The man paused, a flicker of thought crossing his face. A second wife. Ron, you were full of surprises. "What happened to him?" He asked.
Ava's lips parted, but at that moment a sharp voice cut through the tension.
"Hey! Who the hell are you?"
Carter stood a few yards away, eyes narrowed.
"He's a friend of Ron's," Ava called out, though her voice wavered.
The man turned his gaze to Carter.
"Didn't look like a friendly chat," Carter spat, stepping forward. "Looked like you were trying to scare her."
The man replied. "And you? Are you his friend as well?"
Carter nodded defiantly. "Yeah. His good friend."
Before the words had fully left Carter's mouth, the man moved. In a blur of black cloth, his hand shot out, palm-striking Carter's face and lifting him off the ground by his skull.
"Your eyes," the man muttered, staring into Carter's struggling face. "They say everything."
Such overwhelming force...
Carter thought, his lungs gasping for air. He swung a desperate, heavy kick into the man's jaw—a strike that would have shattered a normal man's neck. The man didn't even flinch.
"Leave him alone!" Ava screamed.
Suddenly, a third figure appeared, grabbing the giant's wrist. It was Rocky.
"What are you doing, picking a fight in a place like this?"
The man released Carter and turned to Rocky. "You have the same eyes as him."
He lunged.
Rocky reacted with a lightning-fast mid-air kick to deflect the hand, but the man's momentum didn't break. Rocky was forced to leap back to create distance. Carter, recovering instantly, rushed in and buried a world-class punch squarely into the man's face.
The man tanked it. He didn't even blink.
"You are weak," the man said simply.
He seized Carter by the throat and threw him. Carter flew like a ragdoll, soaring out of the graveyard and across the street into the hotel parking lot—the largest in Hero Town. He slammed into a row of cars, the metal shrieking as it crumpled.
Seconds later, Rocky followed, hurtling through the air and smashing across twenty parked vehicles.
The man walked toward them, his pace casual, as if he were taking a stroll.
"Who is this guy?" Rocky coughed, spitting blood.
"He claims he knew Ron," Carter groaned, dragging himself up. "I don't care who he is. I'm going to kill him and bury him right next to Ron."
Carter surged forward, channeling everything. He landed a square punch on the man's right cheek. The sheer force of the impact sent a shockwave through the ground—cracks spider-webbed through the concrete for two kilometers in every direction.
The man didn't move.
The giant raised his fist. The mere displacement of air felt like a physical weight pressing against Carter's chest. Carter realized in that split second, This will kill me. He didn't even have time to activate his Dark Faith prowess.
The man's fist stopped. Rocky had lunged in with a desperate strike to the man's temple. The man didn't seem hurt, only annoyed. He grabbed Carter and slammed him bodily into Rocky. Before they could separate, the giant raised a foot and stomped.
They rolled away just in time. The ground where they had been lying shattered, a crater forming that stretched for five kilometers.
Rocky jumped, aiming a spinning kick at the man's head, but the man countered with a punch that snapped Rocky's bone like a dry twig. Rocky fell, his face contorted in agony.
"You call yourselves his friends," the man said, staring at them. "But you aren't on his level."
He swung at the downed Rocky.
Carter roared.
With his prowess finally active, Carter delivered a reinforced blow to the man's jaw, finally slamming him crashing into the dirt. A massive crater erupted.
For a second, silence. Then, the man stood up. His face was pristine. Not a scratch. Not a bruise.
"What?" Carter whispered, his heart sinking. My full power... plus twenty percent of my Dark Faith... and nothing?
"Dark Faith," the man mused, adjusting his collar. "A forgotten skill."
He raised his fist again. This time, the speed was incomprehensible. The air pressure hit Carter like a freight train, launching him through the air and into a five-story building. The building disintegrated into rubble.
The man walked toward the wreckage. Carter lay amidst the debris, bloodied and broken. What is this power? It's like that man from the Mirror World... I can't feel my legs...
His vision began to fade to black. The giant stood over him and said something which Carter didn't hear.
"Stop!"
Ava ran into the clearing, throwing herself between the giant and Carter. "Don't take another step!"
The man didn't halt.
"What will Ron think?" she yelled, her voice cracking. "What will he think when he learns you beat his friends to death at his own grave?"
The man froze. His black eyes widened.
He looked at Ava, "I see it now," he murmured.
Ava frowned, trembling. "See what?"
"The guilt," the man said. "You are haunted by the fact that you couldn't save him. That conviction—that need to protect what's left—will lead you."
Without another word, the man turned his back on them and walked away.
Ava didn't wait to see where he went. Shaking, she pulled out her phone and dialed for an ambulance.