The deafening boom drowned the chaos of the rioting crowd, and as the pale green glow washed over them, they all turned their eyes to the rising green flames, a hint of recognition shattering the veil clouding their minds.
A massive log dropped to the ground with an audible thud, followed by the sharp clang of the heavy tank. Swallowed by the flames, the giant tree-man swayed and staggered, falling to one knee as if sapped of all his strength. He remained motionless for a moment then raised his head and roared.
He raised what remained of his severed right arm. Even as the fire ate at it, veins sprouted out and quickly took the shape of a new limb. Clenching the newly formed fingers, the tree-man brought his fist down and pierced the ground at his feet. Roots erupted from his surroundings, twisting and swirling as they closed in on the burning giant, instantly enveloping him in a thick cocoon.
Just as the emerald flames seemed to have been put out, several more arrows fell from the sky and pierced the twisting roots, each one exploding with the same brilliant flames.
The second salvo roared louder than the first, erasing any doubts those watching might have had. A switch had been flipped, and the rioting crowd turned away from the city hall and ran. The green flames were far too iconic to be mistaken for anything else, and the citizens of Neo-Vatra knew them all too well. Well enough to understand that being close was equivalent to a death sentence, not just because of the fire, but also because of what usually followed when the beacon was lit.
Noticing the explosions, the floating woman stopped raining her lightning on the retreating police force and turned around to check. The instant her eyes fell on the ghastly bonfire, a massive bolt fell from the cloudy sky, smiting her like the hammer of a vengeful god.
Brilliant light flashed through the plaza once more, but the booming thunder that should have followed never came. The angry shouts and terrified screams vanished, and an eerie silence enveloped the plaza and the roads surrounding it, turning it into a scene playing on a muted screen.
Realizing what was happening, the chant leader raised his megaphone and shouted something, but no sound left his mouth. He shouted, yelled, and screamed, but the silence permeating the area refused to shatter. Strangely enough, the fleeing crowd didn’t seem to notice the drastic change.
A charred corpse fell on the spot where the lightning had struck, its limbs having turned into crumbling charcoal. From beside it, a blonde man in a tight blue costume took a step, tendrils of yellow lightning dancing over his skin.
He turned in the chant leader’s direction, his yellow eyes glowing with restrained wrath. The chant leader stared back at him then raised the white device in his hands, gritting his teeth as his entire body trembled. He was about to shout again, but a tired sigh reached his ears at that moment, the eerie silence making it impossible to miss.
"Don’t waste your breath." Someone spoke from beside him. "You’ll only hurt your throat."
The chant leader snapped his head in the direction of the voice, but all he saw was a lump of darkness—a vague silhouette loosely shaped like a human.
The bizarre, shadowy figure sat on the side of the overturned vehicle, its arms and legs appearing connected as it rested its elbows on its knees. It had no face or distinguishing features except for two half circles where the eyes should have been, their white color starkly contrasting the surrounding darkness. Looking at its profile, one can notice that the shadowy figure appeared rather bored as it observed the fleeing crows.
A few seconds later, it lowered its head, sighed, then turned toward the chant leader.
"So, how are we gonna do this?" It said, one of the white circles it had for eyes elongating as if an eyebrow was raised. "You can just surrender and-"
Not bothering to listen, the chant leader flung the megaphone at the sitting shadow. His aim was accurate despite his panicked state and the white cone-shaped device struck the shadow in the head, but instead of bouncing off it, the device passed straight through as if there was only air in its way.
The shadow, having remained motionless the entire time, watched the chant leader produce a pistol from under his jacket and take aim.
"Are you being serious right now?" The shadow’s eyes turned into half circles as if conveying his exasperation.
The gun jerked multiple times and its slide snapped back, ejecting empty cartridges one after the other. The sound that should have accompanied each shot was missing, and though each bullet hit its target, the shadow remained unaffected.
"Seriously, didn’t you plan any of this beforehand?" Said the shadow. "If you’re going to pull a stunt in our neighborhood, then you should at least have done your research."
The gun jumped back one more time, then it stopped. The chant leader squeezed the trigger a few more times before realizing he was out of ammo. The fear on his face became more prominent as he gazed down at his weapon. He then turned to look at the shadow.
Once again, the chant leader flung the item he held at the shadow, and once again, it passed through as if nothing was in its way. Whether it hit or not didn’t matter, since it was meant to be a distraction as the chant leader leapt off the truck, rolled, then sprinted toward the fleeing crowd.
He planned to hide among the protesters and escape from there, but he didn’t make it far before tripping on something and falling to the ground, almost breaking his nose.
Gritting his teeth through the pain and the disorientation, he pushed himself up and was about to continue running when a blinding pain surged from his feet and robbed him of his balance, bringing him down to the ground once more.
As if he had been made aware of it just then, the agony flooded his nerves and he couldn’t help but reach down to its source, but nothing was there. His hands only touched a bloody stump left behind by a cut so clean it might as well have erased everything that’s missing.
"Seriously, why do you have to play stupid games?"
Still in shock from seeing his severed legs, the chant leader almost died on the spot when he heard the voice. The shadow had vanished from atop the truck and appeared right beside him, crouching down so they would be on the same level. The white circles representing his eyes had lost their upper half, once again conveying his disappointment.
"Are you the kind who would kill themselves to not get caught, or the kind who’ll do anything to stay alive?" The shadow turned to his right. "Think quickly. You’re like a leaking water bottle right now."
The chant leader stared at the shadow for a moment, then he looked at the murky red puddle and the stumps spilling more of the liquid onto the ground. As he began to feel strength leave his body, he turned to the shadow and made his choice.