Chapter 125: Awakened Tournament Crisis (31)

Elio crashed through the remains of a shattered building outside the ruined stadium, his body tearing through concrete and steel before finally coming to a stop in the middle of a ruined street.

For several seconds, he didn’t move.

Dust drifted through the air around him, settling over the fractured pavement and the pieces of rubble scattered across the street. Far above, the sky was obscured by a tangled forest of enormous black tentacles, their spiked surfaces glistening beneath the faint light that managed to pierce through the destruction. Every movement sent tremors through the surrounding buildings, and every impact was accompanied by the distant screams of Awakened struggling to keep themselves alive.

The world had descended into madness.

Elio’s fingers twitched.

"...Ugh."

He drew a sharp breath and rolled onto his side, immediately regretting the decision when pain shot through his ribs. His entire body felt as though it had been thrown into a meat grinder. His silver hair was disheveled, his clothes were torn, and blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.

He had been sent flying hundreds of meters.

And judging by the amount of destruction behind him, he had been lucky to survive the landing without breaking something important.

Elio slowly pushed himself onto one knee.

"This bastard..."

His voice was little more than a hoarse whisper.

Elio raised his head.

A massive tentacle dragged itself across the remains of a nearby building, grinding concrete into dust. Another emerged from the street farther ahead, its spiked surface splitting the asphalt as it rose. A third coiled around the skeleton of a skyscraper, crushing the upper floors before tearing the entire structure apart.

There were more of them than he could count.

Dozens, perhaps hundreds, stretched across the ruined district, moving with a grotesque, almost living rhythm. Some lashed wildly at anything that moved, while others seemed to search for specific targets. Their movements were unpredictable, their strength absurd, and their regenerative abilities made every attempt to destroy them feel futile.

Elio narrowed his purple eyes.

"What the hell is this thing...?"

Whatever creature was responsible for this, it wasn’t something that a group of young Awakened should have been fighting.

’Without a doubt an S-Rank...’

Elio steadied his breathing and forced himself to stand.

’Where the hell is the associations strike force?’

Elio snapped out of it, discarding any unnecessary thoughts.

He needed to find Eden. If they wanted to survive this, they would have to regroup with the others and figure out a way to deal with the creature responsible.

He took one step, preparing to fight his way back into the stadium.

...Or whatever remained of it.

"Elio."

A voice came from behind him.

Elio froze.

"I believe we should have a talk."

It wasn’t loud or malicious. It wasn’t even particularly threatening.

Yet the moment those two syllables reached his ears, his entire body stopped responding.

His breath caught in his throat.

The surrounding destruction seemed to fade into the distance, the shrieks of tearing metal and the thunderous impacts of the tentacles suddenly becoming little more than meaningless background noise.

’No.’

’It can’t be.’

He knew that voice.

He had heard it in his nightmares more times than he could count. Sometimes, it followed him through the darkness. Other times, it came from behind a closed door he could never bring himself to open.

And sometimes, it spoke in the same gentle, almost affectionate tone it had used when telling him that everything would be alright.

Elio’s fingers curled into fists.

The purple Essence surrounding his body flickered.

"Well?" the voice continued pleasantly. "Are you going to leave an old acquaintance waiting?"

Elio didn’t turn around.

He couldn’t.

Elio found himself frozen in place, unable to move.

His heart hammered against his ribs.

His mouth went dry.

A cold sensation crawled up the back of his neck, spreading down his spine until his fingers began to tremble.

He knew he should run.

He knew he should hide.

He knew he should do something.

Anything.

But his body refused to listen.

"...No."

The word escaped him before he realized he had spoken.

A quiet chuckle answered him.

"Oh, come now. Is that any way to greet someone you haven’t seen in so long?"

Elio swallowed.

Then, with the agonizing slowness of someone turning to face his own executioner, he looked over his shoulder.

A man sat upon a broken slab of concrete several meters behind him, one leg casually crossed over the other. The elevated piece of debris had once belonged to a nearby building, but the destruction surrounding it had left it suspended at an unnatural angle above the ruined street.

The man looked perfectly comfortable.

He wore dark clothing that blended into the surrounding shadows, and his short purple hair was slightly tousled, as though he had just stepped out for a leisurely afternoon stroll rather than into the middle of a catastrophic attack. His sharp green eyes gleamed with amusement, and a smile rested upon his lips.

There was no need for him to release his Essence. No need to demonstrate his strength. No need to make a single threatening gesture.

His mere presence was enough to tell Elio he was in grave danger.

Elio felt it pressing against his skin, a suffocating sensation that reached deeper than physical pressure. It wasn’t simply the instinctive fear of standing before someone stronger.

It was recognition.

The kind of recognition that came from knowing exactly what a person was capable of doing to you.

And knowing that they had every intention of doing it again.

The color drained from Elio’s face.

His eyes widened, his lips parted, and for the first time in a very long time, his usually calm and collected expression shattered completely.

"Y-You..."

The man tilted his head.

"Me?"

His smile widened.

"What’s wrong, Elio? You look like you’ve seen a ghost."

Elio’s entire body trembled.

There was only one person in the world who could make him feel this way.

One person whose existence he had desperately tried to escape.

One person he had prayed never to encounter again.

Null.

The S-Rank Awakened.

The Vice-Guildmaster of the Crimson-Crow Guild.

And the man Elio had run away from.