Fear Made Living
The walk back to the cabin was silent, but not the kind of silence that comes from exhaustion or peace. It was the kind that clung to the air like fog, thick and suffocating, pressing against their skin with every step. The kind that made even the streetlamps seem dimmer, as if the night itself was holding its breath.
Kieran walked ahead of the group, his pace steady but unnaturally rigid. His fists were clenched so tightly his knuckles had gone pale. His jaw was locked. His eyes were fixed forward, unblinking, sharp and cold. He didn't speak. He didn't look around. He didn't react to the sound of gravel crunching beneath his boots.
Roy followed behind him, carrying Mella, who had finally stopped crying but still sniffled quietly on his shoulder while grinning as she could see the whole world from where she was. Rin walked beside Lys, holding her hand tightly. Mira stayed close to Kieran, her expression worried, though she didn't say anything.
They reached the boys' cabin. The lights were still on inside, but no one spoke. They kept walking until they heard voices outside of the cabin.
There were three of them, and they stopped without meaning to.
Kieran's head tilted slightly, eyes narrowing.
Kaelen's voice drifted through open outdoors, firm and commanding. "Until we get back to our world or place, you follow our orders."
Liam's voice followed, flat and emotionless. "Understood."
He stood straight, posture rigid, eyes dead. He looked like a soldier carved out of stone, like someone who didn't sleep, didn't think, didn't feel, only obeyed, like a slave of supposed order and justice.
Graham said something else, but the words were muffled.
The three went inside.
Roy didn't comment. Kieran didn't comment. No one did.
They walked to the front of the cabin to say goodbye to Mira, Lys, Rin, and Mella. The kids begged to sleep in the boys' cabin, but Lys signed that they needed their toothbrushes and clothes in the morning.
Kaelen came out, asked about the camping trip, smiled, and left with Lys and Mira.
Rin, Mella, Roy, and Kieran entered the boys' cabin.
Later that night, everyone slept.
Except for Someone.
Roy woke to a soft, rhythmic thud. At first, he thought it was someone shifting in their sleep, until he saw Mella's hair stuck in her mouth. He gently pulled it out, then leaned up.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Kieran lay on his back, staring at the ceiling, one arm behind his head, the other tapping in a fist shape on the wooden floor.
It wasn't loud, but it was constant, unbroken and unsettling.
Roy sighed, checked Rin to see if he was still asleep, then nudged Kieran. "Get up."
Kieran jolted slightly; he hadn't noticed Roy wake.
Roy whispered, "Let's go."
Kieran followed. Outside, the cold air hit them.
Roy crossed his arms. "You're not sleeping."
Kieran didn't deny it.
Roy continued, "Because what happened is stuck in your head."
Kieran held eye contact and nodded once.
Roy nods as he scratches his head. "Yeah… I get it."
He looked down the road through the window from within the cabin. "Let's go."
Kieran didn't ask where, as a smile started spreading across his face.
He already knew; Roy and Kieran knew exactly where to go.
The barn was lit by a single flickering bonfire, casting long shadows across the dirt. The gang was there loud, laughing, throwing bottles and kicking crates. The girl with the shaved eyebrow stood next to a hay bale, staring at nothing.
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One of the men spotted Roy and Kieran approaching and called most of the group over.
The wind soul‑art user stood up, smirking. His gang followed. "Well, well," he said. "Didn't expect you two to come back. But sadly, I am quite busy now, so..."
He cracked his knuckles. "Leave… Or I will kill you."
Roy didn't move, and neither did Kieran blink.
The man's smile widened. "Oh. Alright then."
Wind gathered and dust lifted, the air twisted unnaturally. A truck was already driving down the road slowly and harmlessly.
The man flicked his wrist, and wind slammed into the truck, sending it hurtling toward Kieran at impossible speed.
The gang laughed while the truck roared, but still, Kieran didn't move.
He simply lifted his hand and touched it.
The truck stopped. Instantly.
Metal screamed while the frame buckled and the top half tore off, flying over them and crashing into the Thames with a distant splash.
Silence.
The gang stared, mouths open, and as they turned back to where the duo was...
Nova stood there, with his mask on and his cloak swaying with another called The Hooded One, who wore a black jacket with a hood, simple but unmistakably similar to Nova's, but his face was covered by the hood.
The man scoffed. "What's the point of the mask? We already saw your face."
Nova smiled beneath it. "It's because none of you are walking away from this."
The man laughed and looked back at his gang to see their reaction as well. There was no reaction to his laugh; they were all stunned in place, not moving an inch, and their eyes were constantly watching the two figures in front of them.
The man trying to hold his standing in front of the gang started speaking to the two people now in the supposed costumes. "Only if I could have gotten my hands on the two girls behind you… I would have done amazing things."
He starts taunting at the two.
"They looked magnificent…" As he raised his left arm as he reminisced about something, it was the same arm that assaulted the eyebrowless girl and maybe has done something more. "And if I could have a single single night with her—"
Before anyone could react and before he could even finish the sentence. The wind user flew backward, smashing into the barn wall hard enough to splinter the wood.
The gang turned back in shock, not even realising what had just happened, as The Hooded One was already walking out of the barn. Dragging the man. Who was not dead but with limbs torn off and blood spewed everywhere, clearly unconscious from the sudden impact.
The Hooded One dropped him at Nova's feet.
"Heal him," Kieran said coldly. "So, I want my turn this time."
They didn't understand how fast this man could move. They didn't understand how Nova struck without being seen. The gang recoiled in horror as they saw their leader choking on his own blood, without his own legs, while thrown on the ground in front of another person.
But they understood one thing: they were nowhere near the strength of these two people.
Two other people stepped up, and the rest of the gang pulled out weapons: pipes, knives and guns, thinking they could do something, anything, to get them away from them, as they knew running away wasn't an option with how fast these people travelled right in front of them.
Nova didn't flinch, and The Hooded one didn't blink.
Nova kicked the man aside first, dealing with the others, so they can have dessert for last.
The first person to engage walked up to them while hardening their skin; it became like rock, then diamond, and finally something the duo couldn't realise what it was, but it was called lonsdaleite.
Nova sidestepped, grabbed his wrist, and slammed him into the ground so hard the earth cracked, the shockwave rippled through the barnyard, and Nova then stepped on him so hard that his skin created greater cracks to the earth's surface, and his skin started cracking even further until he was in the crater with a print of a footprint on his chest with him knocked out.
The other one started to ignite the air on fire, but The Hooded One was already behind him and launched a mean left hook which sent him skidding across the dirt into a stack of wooden crates, knocking him out instantaneously.
Gunshots rang out, that were fire straight at Nova's head.
Nova blurred, appearing behind the shooters, disarming them effortlessly, tossing their weapons aside like toys and punching them right in the face, causing them to fall unconscious.
Kieran moved through the gang like a shadow. Silent, precise and unstoppable shadow. Every strike was controlled. Every movement is efficient. Every takedown clean.
Just like someone taught him too.
The gang fell one by one.
Not dead. But defeated so thoroughly they couldn't stand or be awake.
Until there were two left to deal with, one that didn't want to fight anymore and one that stood there as everything went down, and amazingly, she seemed to have a soul art as well.
Her eyes were furious, her posture tense and her breath sharp. She dashed forward, faster than anyone else in the gang could have. Faster than most soul art users that used their abilities to their max. Her speed cracked the air; her movements blurred.
She aimed straight for Nova.
Nova didn't move.
She appeared behind him, ready to strike.
Nova turned his head slightly. "You're a fast one," he said calmly.
She froze.
"But not fast enough."
She swung, and Nova vanished.
She stumbled forward, confused. Nova appeared beside her, hand on her shoulder, to which she flinched immediately.
He leaned in slightly. "Speed means nothing if you don't know where you're going."
Her ego shattered instantly as Fear replaced it. Real fear.
Her breath hitched. Her knees buckled. Her vision blurred. Her heart raced too fast, too violently, too painfully.
Roy's pressure didn't even fully begin, and yet she collapsed.
Her mind couldn't handle it, and neither could her body.
Her speed had always been her pride, and Nova had crushed it with a whisper.
She lay on the ground, trembling, unable to stand. Now unconscious.
The eyebrowless girl broke.
She didn't scream. She didn't cry loudly. She didn't run.
She just… folded.
Her knees gave out. Her hands shook. Her breath came in sharp, painful gasps. Her eyes filled with tears she couldn't stop. She covered her ears, trying to block out the sounds of fighting, the thuds, the cracks, and the terror.
Her shoulders trembled violently; her body shook uncontrollably. She wasn't hurt. She wasn't touched. She wasn't threatened, but she had lived in fear for so long that seeing someone else become fear itself shattered her.
Nova looked at her.
The Hooded One looked at her.
Neither spoke.
The gang lay defeated across the barnyard, partially alive yet dead.
The night was quiet again.
As it should be. As it has been. As it will be.
