One of the razor-sharp blades violently scraped the very edge of her pristine coat, sizzling a long, smoking gash into the white fabric. Entirely too close.
She landed perfectly three ters away—her body angled defensively, her expression totally unreadable.
"Hostile intent fully confird," Sugar murmured, adjusting her glove.
The big one, Ytrisia, slamd her heavy fist directly into the floor, sending a massive burst of pressure outward. A brutal shockwave that cracked the solid base of the cabin and sent heavy debris flying everywhere. Eventide frantically tried to phase her body, but caught part of the heavy blast—her bare shoulder slamd painfully into a glass window.
"Son of a—!"
The thick safety glass spiderwebbed entirely behind her back.
She flipped back up onto her feet, growling, her skirt riding dangerously high.
"No polite introductions, no fun trash talk, just straight violence? So boring."
The lean attacker aggressively pressed forward again, this ti violently spinning in a low arc with both blades flashing—one aid high for the neck, one sweeping brutally for Sugar’s knees.
Sugar dipped incredibly low, her heel gliding smoothly across the bloody floor in a clean arc, flawlessly avoiding both deadly strikes. She instantly launched another portal directly beneath her boots and vanished again.
She reappeared at the far end of the car, her breathing perfectly even, her eyes narrowing sharply.
She finally spoke—more to herself than anyone else in the room.
"...Fluid, highly trained coordination. Power-oriented frontal assault. The smaller one calculates physical space perfectly... the larger one acts as the heavy shield, absorbing damage and breaking guards."
She paused.
Her cold gaze locked intensely onto the thick, heavy-set woman who had just effortlessly sent the S-rank Eventide flying like a doll.
Her eyes narrowed a fraction more.
"...No. That style is not random."
The big woman slowly turned her hooded head toward her, her purple eyes glowing.
And for a long mont—just a tiny, terrifying flicker in the dark—there was sothing deeply familiar in her imposing posture. The exact weight of her stance. The way she planted her thick thighs. Sugar’s gloved fingers tensed rigidly at her side.
Eventide floated down gracefully from her flip, planting her boots heavily again.
"These bitches don’t talk, don’t flinch, and apparently don’t bleed easily," she spat, wiping a bead of sweat from her cleavage. "You want to explain what the hell this is, Sugar?"
Sugar’s voice was incredibly low as she stopped dead in her tracks. Up until now, her calm mind had analytically observed absolutely everything—the specific battle style, the weight distribution, the footwork—and she instantly, terrifyingly recognized exactly whom they were fighting right now. "I’ve definitely seen her before."
A heavy beat.
Then, absolute quiet over the rumble of the tracks.
"Ytrisia," Sugar said coldly. "Why exactly are you attacking us?"
"Hero Association might’ve sent soone from the middle ranks, if I’m guessing right..."
Cruxius’s thoughts paced alongside him as he moved effortlessly through the hollow, ruined corridor of the train. The dim ergency lights flickered above, casting the heavily dented tallic walls in a stuttering, sickly gold. His expensive boots clicked sharply against the blood-sared floor, leaving dark half-prints behind—the slow, asured footsteps of the orchestrator, not a frantic participant.
His hands were casually deep in the pockets of his charcoal coat, and he walked exactly like a man with absolutely nothing to fear in this world. Because he didn’t.
Ytrisia and Darithi were ahead in the next car, and if any poor, misguided soul from the Association had dared step into their reach—well, they certainly weren’t walking out whole. Darithi didn’t know the aning of restraint when it ca to his safety. Ytrisia only sotis rembered to care about collateral damage.
He inhaled deeply, the thick, coppery scent of the bloody aftermath filling his lungs. Then—
"Haah... So, is this done, girls—"
He pushed open the heavy connecting door and stopped dead. The words died in his throat.
Dead, heavy silence.
There, inside the trashed compartnt, four powerful figures were locked in absolute tension. Two of them were his—Ytrisia and Darithi—silent, weapons drawn, and perfectly poised to kill. And directly across from them...
Eventide. Looking rough around the edges, her body tense. Her notoriously tight suit was heavily scraped, one shoulder hanging by re threads to expose her bruised skin.
And standing right beside her—
Her.
Sugar.
Frozen. Wide-eyed. Her soft lips were parted slightly like she desperately wanted to say sothing but had completely forgotten how to speak. Her wide gaze was fixed intensely on him—no, not just his masked face. His posture. His casual stance. The exact, arrogant way he had entered the room like he owned the very air they breathed. Hands deep in pockets. Mask gleaming in the dark. That infuriating arrogance curled into the subtle way he tilted his head.
She knew.
He saw it instantly. That terrifying flicker of absolute recognition. The puzzle pieces violently snapping together in her beautiful eyes.
Cruxius blinked once beneath his mask.
’What the fuck is my ex doing here?’
Technically, she wasn’t his "ex." He never fully let her go, not really. But until he could ticulously manipulate her into falling in love with him all over again in this tiline, he had to give her so kind of placeholder title in his mind.
Her voice finally broke the heavy silence, barely audible, shaky in a vulnerable way that didn’t suit the stoic hero at all.
"C-Cruxius...?"
The na dropped like a heavy stone in still water. It wasn’t just recognition—it was a devastating confirmation. She had already been highly suspicious. But now, seeing him like this, feeling his exact presence... there was absolutely no doubt left.
And beside her, Eventide’s eyes flinched violently.
The na Ytrisia had whispered earlier in that venom-laced tone—"Eventide." It had tugged sharply at her mory then. Sothing half-forgotten, from the brutal hospital raid months ago. The woman she’d fought there... cold, vicious, and overwhelmingly strong. She hadn’t known her true na at the ti.
But now—Sugar’s broken whisper landed heavily. Cruxius.
A second, horrifying realization stabbed deep into Eventide’s gut.
This wasn’t just any random, ssy villain cell. This was his. This whole bloody thing was his design.
She turned slightly toward Sugar, her brows drawn tight, but before either of them could even open their mouths to speak—
CLANK.
"KURGHH—!!"
A sudden flash of cold tal. A vibrating blur in the air. A sound like a giant tuning fork slamming violently against reality itself.
Darithi moved.
Sugar didn’t.
She couldn’t. It was too much—too fast. Her body was frozen solidly in place, her pupils dilated wide as she stared blankly at the incoming blade. It glinted sharply in her eye. A perfect reflection of imminent death, honed and imdiate.
Darithi’s movent hadn’t co from hate or malice. It was pure, raw instinct. Absolute protection. She had seen the look on her master’s face—seen that incredibly rare, unfamiliar crack in his usual composure, seen the exact mont his world shifted dangerously—and she panicked. The true identity of her master absolutely could not be revealed to these heroes. Not now. Not like this.
Even if it ant permanently silencing soone.
But just a millisecond before the vibrating blade could slice into Sugar’s throat—
BANG.
The gunshot was like thunder in the confined space.
A single, hyper-accelerated bullet tore through the air, hitting Darithi’s sword perfectly mid-swing. The tal shrieked agonizingly as it was violently blown from her tight grip, ricocheting dangerously off the walls before slamming heavily into the far corner. It rattled once. Then, total silence returned.
Darithi stumbled back, not out of physical pain—but absolute shock. Her head turned sharply, her wide eyes behind her mask locking onto him.
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