The Hunter Association stood at the center of the city like a throne carved from arrogance.
It was power. It was fear. It was untouchable.
A temple built on the backs of the weak. A monument to the lie that strength equals justice.
And Arthur had no intention of walking past it.
No.
He walked into it.
The moment his foot touched the marble floor, something shifted. Not in the building. In the air.
Like the city itself had stopped to hold its breath.
Inside, a group of elite hunters laughed over drinks. They joked about their last raid, about how many had begged before they killed them, about how good it felt to be feared.
And then—
Arthur walked in.
No one recognized him at first. He looked too ordinary. Too calm.
Until the doors vanished. Until the walls melted. Until the floor beneath their feet disappeared.
And in a blink—
They were somewhere else.
They stood in a city of blood.
Not a city. A graveyard.
Buildings made from flesh and bone twisted toward the heavens. Streets paved with shattered skulls stretched endlessly. The air reeked of rot and ruin.
Above them, a red sun bled across the sky like an open wound.
One hunter— A man who once wiped out a village for sport— screamed as his boot sank into the body of a child.
Arthur hovered above them, his red eye glowing.
"Do you like it?" he asked, voice calm. "This world is made from everyone you've killed."
Another hunter—a woman crackling with electricity—snarled. "You think tricks will scare us?"
Arthur chuckled.
"Oh, I don't want to scare you." His smile curved like a blade.
"I want you to suffer."
A colossal arena rose before them— a colosseum built from screaming souls.
Thousands of ghostly faces stared down from the stands.
Arthur spread his arms.
"Ten rounds," he said lightly. "Win one? You move on. Lose one—" He snapped his fingers.
A hunter exploded into red mist.
Screams erupted.
Arthur grinned.
"That about sums it up."
And just like that—
The game began.
Far from the chaos, in a quiet place untouched by death and screaming ghosts—
Camila stared at the screen like it had just punched her in the gut. Her book slipped from her fingers without her noticing. Arthur had been the one who once told her to trust again, after everything. Now? He was unrecognizable.
Liam sat frozen, his golden aura glitching with every scream that echoed through the livestream. Arthur had been the only person who'd ever treated him like more than a weapon. Seeing him now—using power the way their enemies did—felt like watching a god fall.
Athena couldn't stop trembling. Her hands clutched her shirt tight over her heart. Arthur was the one who pulled her from the rubble. The one who smiled at her when she forgot how. She covered her mouth as if holding in a scream, tears welling in her eyes.
And Amelia? She didn't blink. Her smile was soft. Sad. Resigned. Because deep down, she had always known Arthur's wrath had no ceiling. But that didn't make it hurt any less. He had once called her his anchor. Now he looked like a storm untethered.
They watched in silence, each of them haunted by different memories—of the Arthur they knew, and the monster he was becoming.
Camila whispered, voice raw and barely audible, "We need to find him."
No one argued.
Because if they didn't— They wouldn't just lose Arthur. They might lose everything he once stood for.
Four people stared at the screen.
Camila's grip tightened around her book. Liam's golden aura pulsed in time with his heartbeat. Athena's breath caught in her throat. Amelia? She just smiled.
But all of them knew— This wasn't the Arthur they remembered.
He had always been intense. But this? This was something else.
Something colder.
And as the screams echoed from the livestream, Camila whispered, "We need to find him."
No one disagreed.
Because if they didn't— They might never get him back.
Or worse— No one might survive him.
Back in the arena— the screams never stopped.
The hunters—apex predators, killers without conscience— were now the ones trembling.
They'd never known fear. Not when they murdered families. Not when they hunted the helpless. Not when they crushed hope beneath their boots.
But now? Now they couldn't breathe.
Arthur floated above them, watching. Unblinking. Smiling.
"Alright," he said. "Round two."
A loud bell rang. A screen appeared in the sky.
Twenty-five names. Fifteen still lit. Ten already gone.
Arthur clapped his hands.
"Let's play The Hunt."
The arena melted again— turning into a dense, nightmare forest.
The trees dripped black blood. The wind whispered in broken voices.
And Arthur's face appeared on a hovering screen.
"Normally," he said, "you do the hunting." His smile widened. "But tonight? You run."
"Survive an hour. That's it." He leaned in.
"Oh—" His eyes glowed.
"And try not to scream."
Because the forest had begun to move.
The trees bent. The shadows stretched. And from the darkness— They came.
The hunters had killed many things in their lives. But not like this.
These were monsters made from their own sins.
Children with mouths stitched shut. Mothers with eyes gouged out. Men with heads split open and still whispering.
They knew the faces. They recognized the bodies.
They had killed these people.
And now— The dead were hunting them.
One hunter ran. Another followed.
And the forest swallowed them whol
"But we're not done yet."The world twisted.And just like that—A new game began.
The Mirror of Monsters
The space around them warped, reshaping into something out of a nightmare.A cathedral. Massive. Twisted gold and black marble stretching on forever.The Hall of Judgment.
Gigantic stained glass windows cast a strange light. But it wasn't random.It was them.Their sins.The village they burned.The children they killed.The families they destroyed.All of it frozen in grotesque colors, like some kind of holy accusation carved in light and shadow.
And right in the center—A throne.Made of bones.Not just any bones.The bones of the people they hurt.And it didn't belong to them.It had always been there.Waiting.
Arthur floated above the ground, arms crossed, that same unreadable look on his face."One of you gets to sit," he said.The hunters froze.Arthur's Eyes of Wrath glowed like fire barely held back.
"The other dies."
Then, a pause.
"And I won't be the one choosing."
He snapped his fingers.A single blade appeared, just lying there between them like it had always been part of the floor."Figure it out."And then—He was gone.
Just like that, they were alone.In the hall of their sins.
Silence.No one moved.No one spoke.The blade lay there. Waiting. Daring.It wasn't just a weapon. It was a decision.
Talia's breaths were shaky."We don't have to do this," she said, voice soft.
Grant didn't answer.His hands were trembling.
Talia took a step toward him."We can fight him. Together."
Grant let out a dry laugh."Fight him?" he said. His voice cracked. "Do you see where we are?"He pointed at the stained glass."Our sins are on display like art in a museum. He's already won."
Talia clenched her fists."Then what do we do?" she asked, voice low.
Grant looked at her.And for the first time… he actually looked guilty.
Then he grabbed the knife.
Talia didn't move.Not because she didn't see it coming.But because—She'd already accepted it.
The blade pierced her chest.Her blood hit the marble floor.
She looked up at him—And smiled.
"Good luck," she whispered.Then she fell.
Grant stumbled back toward the throne.Collapsed into it.Breathing hard.
And the second he sat—
Chains burst from the floor, wrapping him tight, dragging him into the seat like it had been waiting just for him.His eyes went wide.His veins turned black.And then—
He screamed.
Because now—Now he was really alone.
Arthur reappeared.He tilted his head like he was looking at a broken toy.
The throne pulsed with Grant's pain.His screams echoed off every wall.
Arthur sighed.
"Boring."
He snapped his fingers.And just like that—Grant was gone.Erased.
The throne stood empty again.Like it always had.Like it always would.
Arthur turned.The game was over.
Time for the final act.
The World Watches in Horror
The livestream was still running.Everyone had seen it.The begging.The killing.The silence after.
And floating above it all—Arthur.A god wrapped in human skin.
In a hidden room, far away, four people watched.
Camila's hands were shaking.Liam's jaw was tight, golden energy flickering off him like sparks from a frayed wire.Athena looked pale—barely holding it together.
And Amelia?
She smiled.
"Interesting," she said, like she was watching a movie.
Liam slammed a fist into the table.
"This isn't right."
Camila exhaled slowly."It doesn't matter," she muttered. "We need to find him."
Athena looked up. Her voice was small."But… what if he doesn't want to be found?"
Silence.
Because yeah—That was the real fear, wasn't it?
This wasn't punishment.It wasn't even justice.It was something else.Something worse.
And if they didn't stop him—Then who would?
The Rain That Would Not Wash Away Sin
The rain fell.Cold. Heavy. Relentless.
It poured over the ruined city. Over the blood. Over the broken.And in the middle of it all—Arthur stood.Crying.
But he wasn't crying for the hunters.Not for himself, either.
He was crying because they were thanking him.The dead. The ones who never got justice.The ones who died begging for help that never came.
They smiled.They whispered their thanks.And one by one, they left.
Finally.After all the pain, they could go.
And with every ghost that passed—Arthur broke a little more.
Because they shouldn't have died in the first place.
His fists clenched.His teeth gritted.
And for the first time in years—He just cried.
The Ones Who Found Him
They'd been chasing him across this nightmare.
And now Camila, Liam, Athena, and Amelia stood in the shadows, watching.But the man in front of them?He wasn't the Arthur they knew.
Not the one who joked with death.Not the one who twisted reality for laughs.
This man was broken.And that terrified them more than any god ever could.
Camila Spoke First
"Arthur…"
Her voice cracked.Not from fear.From something worse.
He didn't move.Didn't look back.Didn't even try to pretend.
He just whispered—
"Do you want to know why I did this?"
Camila swallowed."Tell me."
And he did.
The Truth of a Boy Who Was Powerless
He told them everything.How he entered the boy's body.How he felt his pain.How it reminded him of his own.
And then—He told them the truth.
He didn't do this for justice.Not for the boy.Not for revenge.
He did it because deep down—No matter how much power he had,No matter how many worlds he could rewrite—
He was still just that powerless, broken kid who had lost everything.
And that truth destroyed him.
The last ghost disappeared into the sky.
Arthur stood there, drenched in rain.Waiting.
Waiting for them to hate him.
But instead—
Athena ran forward.
The Hug of a Friend
She wrapped her arms around him.Held him tight.
"You're not alone," she whispered."You've never been alone."
And that—That shattered him.
Because for the first time, he felt it.
They came.Not to stop him.Not to kill him.But because they cared.
The Others Speak
Liam stepped up, his voice steady."After hearing your story… I would've done the same thing."
No judgment.Just truth.
Amelia tilted her head."We're your friends, Arthur," she said. "And friends share everything."She held out her hand."Even sin."
Arthur stared at her.At all of them.
His hands trembled.His chest rose and fell like he couldn't breathe.
Then Camila spoke.Soft. Heavy.
"I'm sorry."
Arthur blinked.
Camila—the one who always had it together—She bowed her head.
"I should've seen it," she whispered."I should've noticed."
She sighed."But I didn't. And I'm sorry."
Arthur felt something snap inside him.
He laughed.
A dry, broken, hollow sound.
What else could he do?
They still stood beside him.
So he did the only thing he could—He let them.
Because maybe, just maybe—He didn't have to carry it alone anymore.
The Rain Was Still Falling
But now?
It didn't feel quite as heavy.
The Man Who Watched From the Shadows
The echoes of Arthur's confession hadn't even faded yet.And still—The world kept turning.
A presence.
Cold. Sharp. Final.
Arthur felt it before he even saw them.
Camila felt it too.A ripple in time.A warning.
And then—They stepped out.
Black suits. Precise steps. Blank faces.
From the alleys. From the shadows. From the cracks in the broken city.
Surrounding them.
Camila's eyes narrowed."You here to pick a fight?"
Her voice was calm. Too calm.
Liam flared up beside her.Amelia grinned like she was ready to break bones.Athena trembled—Not in fear.In readiness.
Whoever these people were—They weren't normal.
And then—One of them spoke.