Chapter 33 — Parade of Execution
Divine Bush was neon hell tonight.
A digital city pulsing like a heartbeat, every building crowned in holo-screens, roads crawling with people recording, screaming, partying. Social media exploded with tags: #GhostExecution #DeadByDawn #Finally. The biggest celebration wasn't for music, fireworks, or a win. It was for a man about to die.
Kaito.
Stretched across a burning crucifix. Demon chains bound each limb, the metal soaked in eternal flame. It had been 30 days. Not a scream. Not a cry. Just a blank, dead stare at the camera that captured him from every angle.
He was a trophy. A warning.
The screens crackled as a woman shouted, "HE MADE MY DAD EAT SHIT OUTTA MY DOG'S ASS!"
The crowd cheered.
"TORTURE HIM! TORTURE HIM!"
Chanting. Laughing. Filming.
Back in a rotting shack outside Divine Bush, Cainen stirred. He wasn't watching the broadcast. Didn't even have power. But somehow—he heard it. The crowd. The hate. The chanting. The crackle of fire.
And then...
"CAINEN!"
His head jerked up.
"I KNOW WHAT YOU DID… B-BUT YOU'RE MY LEADER!"
A screen caught Kaito's face, a tear cutting through soot and ash.
"I WOULD KILL EVERY BASTARD WHO DEFIES YOU!"
The feed didn't cut yet. It should have. But it didn't.
Kaito got a sentence out. Then the guards jumped him.
Iron clubs. Electrified batons. Kicking. Stomping. The camera dropped sideways. Then blacked out.
The entire city raged:
BOOOOOOOOOOOO!
Cainen sat in silence.
His knuckles cracked. His teeth ground together.
The room trembled. His arms turned black.
"...not now."
DMK emerged.
But this time—he looked like Cainen. Taller. Colder. Eight eyes blinking like a spider.
Cainen stumbled back. "The hell—?"
"Kaito's cancel collar severed me from him. I've been hunting you for two years, you voided bastard."
DMK grinned.
"You made it impossible. You got no RAC. Just a black hole where your soul should be."
Cainen clenched a fist. "You done talking?"
Boom. One punch to DMK's face.
"I deserved that."
DMK staggered, laughing.
"But you need to hear this: That bastard Kaito still thinks you're worth it. He screamed your name while dying."
"You going to just sit here while your brother dies?"
Cainen didn't answer.
Instead, he clenched his eyes shut.
Silence.
White.
Nothing.
Then—a voice.
"Took you long enough."
Cainen opened his eyes inside a white void. There, sitting on a cracked throne of chains and anger...
Was young Cainen.
Spiked hair, fists taped, eyes wide with that old rage. He looked 15. He looked... free.
Cainen stared. "What the hell…?"
Young Cainen stood. "Aint no forgetting me, old friend."
Cainen shook his head. "I had to. I couldn't keep living like that. Angry all the time."
"And where'd that get you? Killing Kekka are some bs. A shack. u dont even have your lil district anymore your washed."
He walked up.
"You need me. And I need you. We were strong when we were loud. We were honest when we were mad."
Cainen balls his fists. "I didn't mean to kill Rekka."
Young Cainen nodded.
"Then stop making it worse by being a bum."
Silence.
The two locked eyes.
Cainen spoke: "Fine"
The young version grinned.
"Let's get our damn brother back."
Cainen opened his eyes. His skin arms down blackend. His veins lit up with red lightning. His hair sparked.
He didn't get a RAC.
He made one using himself.
The Vessel of Wrath.Anger itself. His own demon. His own fire.
And his first objective...
Save Kaito.