Chapter 39: The bloody march

Chapter Thirty-Nine: The Bloody March

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Bullets tore through the air, piercing skull after skull. Members of the Revolve Gang dropped like flies, their bodies crumpling to the wet pavement. The minor officers of the Mid-Spires were young—barely out of their teens—but their eyes held the cold emptiness of men who had killed before.

One gang member dove over a fence, desperate to escape. A sniper round caught him mid-air. His head spun from his neck before his body even hit the ground.

The officer who had fired the shot cocked his gun and took a slow drag from his pipe.

"Such foolish people," he muttered, smoke curling from his lips. "Trying to overthrow the Valdrex government so they can turn the Mid-Spires into some filthy place like the Deep Slums. Huh."

Drones hummed overhead, their red eyes blinking as they popped heads like overripe fruit. Blood sprayed. Bones and flesh danced through the air like confetti.

Minutes passed. The surviving gang members had been captured—kneeling, cuffed, trembling. Ordinary citizens gathered in a loose circle, watching in silence, waiting to see what the officers would do next.

"Man, this is gonna be really bad," a citizen whispered to his companion.

"It's good for them," another replied. "They think they're wild. They sure do have the guts to fight against officers. The worst part is, some of these officers are actual hunters."

"It's not their fault," a woman cut in, her voice sharp. "It's clear the Survey Corps is looking for a way to cause havoc in the Mid-Spires so they can make the Valdrex Empire lose total control."

"What? Hey, watch your mouth!" someone interrupted.

"I know what I'm saying," the woman nodded, but before she could continue, a voice cut through the crowd—a girl's cry, raw and desperate.

The citizens turned.

An officer had grabbed a young girl by her hair, yanking her forward.

"Hey, brat!" he snarled.

"Ah! Get your hands off me!" she struggled, her small fists beating against his arm.

His fist connected with her face. Blood splattered to the ground. His muscles swelled beneath his uniform.

"You must be joking," he said, grinning.

"No! Stop! She's innocent!" A young man screamed from the crowd, his hands cuffed behind his back. Tears streamed down his face. "Please, please!"

The officer glanced at him and laughed.

"Things were getting really boring over the years," he said, twirling a remote between his fingers. "Just secretly detonating debtors' heads every single day. But now? You people just made it interesting. Finally."

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He smiled.

"Chips are one of the best tech devices to have, really."

"No! No! No!"

BOOM.

The girl's head erupted. Blood bathed the young man, drenching him in red. Other gang members shivered in fear, some crawling away on their knees, their voices reduced to broken whimpers.

"Si-sister!" the young man stammered, staring at his sister's skull shattered to pieces on the ground.

Silence stretched.

Then—

SLICE.

His head flew up. A clean cut. The other cuffed hunters watched, unable to move.

The officer's arm rotated as his blade receded, his hand returning to normal.

"Biotech blades combined with my biogens and my leveled-up body," he said, his smile widening. "It makes it easier to kill you all in a certain style."

The crowd grew silent. Even the murmuring stopped.

Then—

"Get out of my way."

The voice came from meters away. Calm. Low. Very low.

The people at the back of the crowd turned. A young boy stood among them—average height, unusual dark rose-colored hair. His head was bent low. His headset was on, playing music.

"Look at this dumbass kid," a man said, stepping toward him. "You got any respect at all?"

Keith didn't respond.

"Hey!" one of the officers called out. "What's the commotion happening there?"

"A little stubborn fool that wants to die," another man shouted, his arm already reaching for Keith, his fist clenched for a blow.

He froze.

His arm stopped mid-swing. His body refused to obey him. The man's eyes widened, his breath catching in his throat.

Keith raised his head slowly and began walking.

The beat of his music followed his footsteps. Slow. Deliberate.

He took one step.

The two men nearest to him staggered back. Their skin reddened, their heads swelling like balloons. Their bodies followed—veins bulging, skin stretching beyond what flesh could handle. Their skeletons shattered inside them, bones snapping, cracking.

Their bodies kept swelling.

POP.

Blood bathed ten people nearby. Everyone froze, too shocked to move.

The wind passed across their faces—cold, carrying the smell of blood and metal.

A scream tore through the crowd. People tried to run—but their legs wouldn't move.

Keith kept walking.

"I remember saying," he muttered, his voice flat and dead, "get out of my way. I just want to stroll in peace."

He paused.

"But you insulted me."

Another body swelled. The person tried to speak—couldn't. Another followed. Then another. Dozens of bodies swelling like balloons, their veins bulging, their skin stretching.

Keith took another step.

"And wanted to hit me."

Every step, a pop. The rhythm of the music matched the rhythm of the explosions.

Step—pop.

Step—pop.

Step—pop.

Keith marched forward. Blood sprayed through the air like rain. People cried, unable to speak, unable to move, unable to escape the horror unfolding around them.

"Keith!"

From afar, Calvin ran—fast, desperate, almost stumbling to the ground as he pushed his way through the crowd.

"Calvin, stop!" Tracy's voice cut through the chaos.

Calvin came to a halt.

His eyes swept across the crowd, across the pool of blood and scattered flesh on the ground.

Keith turned around. He was now in the middle of where the gang members knelt, their hands cuffed. Their bodies began to swell.

The officer who had killed the girl couldn't move. His face vibrated with fear.

Who the hell is this boy? he thought. Such absurd power. He... he's a monster!

His body began swelling too.

Keith looked at Calvin. His headset music came to an end.

Behind him, all the bodies exploded in unison.

BOOM.

Blood sprayed like a wave of water, drenching the street behind him.

Calvin's eyes widened, trembling.

"K—Keith!" he muttered.

He fell to his knees.

THUD.

Tracy stopped running. She couldn't move. She couldn't believe her eyes.

Shit, she thought. I could have restrained him. But he's Cosmic Class.

Keith was silent. His eyes were purely red.

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"Okay!"

Crucify appeared, clapping its small hands together.

"Come on, bloody guru. Open your red port and let's get out of this beautiful place!"

It giggled, floating in the air.

Kael walked in, his hands in his pockets. He passed both Calvin and Tracy.

Tracy glared at him, her fists clenched.

"You... you... arrggh!" She raised her hand. "Why am I even hesitating? Why am I? I need to kill him with just one blow."

Kael kept moving calmly. He reached where Keith stood.

"Kael?" Calvin stammered, tears streaming from his eyes.

Kael smiled. It was a very cute, very warm smile.

"Don't worry," he said. "Your brother would be better off with me. Under my care."

A red portal opened behind them. The two entered and vanished. The portal snapped shut.

Calvin stared at the empty space where his brother had been. He cried out loudly, falling to the ground, pounding his fists into the dirt.

"No! No! Why is this happening? Why?"

Tears dripped to the ground.

"I killed a boy. I killed a boy. Now my brother—my brother is a monster."

His fingers dug into the ground.

Tracy walked to him, her hands placed on his shoulder.

"It's because you are too weak."

Her voice was unusually cold. The words echoed inside his skull.

Everyone regained their movement. They scattered, screaming, running in every direction.

Calvin's eyes widened. His breath stopped.

For the first time—

His blood boiled.

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End of Chapter Thirty-Nine.