Creation Of All Things

"Hahahahaha!"

Mark's laughter echoed through the air as he looked at his captives—Alfred and Aria. The twins were tied up and hanging like laundry on a line.

"So, where's that brother of yours, huh?" Mark sneered, tilting his head. "I thought he'd show up the second you two were in trouble. Come in, kick my ass, and save the day. Or was all that just talk? All bark, no bite?"

His lackeys burst out laughing, feeding off his arrogance.

A middle-aged man stood off to the side, watching in silence. He sighed when he saw the twins, a flicker of pity in his eyes. But he did nothing. He wasn't here for them—his job was to watch over Mark. That was it.

Mark grabbed a thick baton and brought it close to Alfred's face. "Go on, scream. Call for your brother. Let's see if he comes running. That way, I can kill him myself for humiliating me this morning." His grin stretched wider, eyes gleaming with cruelty.

Alfred glared at him with pure hatred before spitting in his face. "Go to hell. And just so you know, if anything happens to us, my brother will make sure you regret the day you were born."

Mark wiped his face, then chuckled. "You still don't get it, do you?" He shook his head mockingly. "You normies will never understand the world of the supernatural."

Dark shadows began gathering around him, twisting and curling like living things. "I'm a superhuman. Not the strongest, sure, but strong enough to deal with some regular nobody like you." He smirked, then gestured toward the middle-aged man standing quietly in the corner. "And if, by some miracle, your brother does manage to give me trouble… well, that's where he comes in."

Alfred and Aria's eyes widened in shock. They thought they were dealing with some rich lunatic, but this? This was something else entirely.

Mark's grin turned darker. "Now you know—you're not getting out of this alive. Neither is your brother."

Aria clenched her teeth, her whole body shaking with rage. Then, out of nowhere, she lunged at Mark, the chains binding her straining against her sudden burst of strength.

But Mark was faster. With barely a thought, the shadows around him moved like vipers, striking with unnatural speed.

A sharp, black tendril impaled Aria.

"NOOOOOOOOO!"

Alfred's scream tore through the surroundings as he watched his sister go limp, blood dripping onto the ground.

Mark barely reacted, tilting his head as if mildly curious. But the middle-aged man? His calm expression finally cracked.

"Brat... do you have any idea what you've just done?"

The middle-aged man stared at Aria's lifeless body, his expression dark.

There was an unspoken rule in the world of superhumans—you don't harm normies. Ever. It was a line no one crossed. And now, this brat had just stomped right over it because of some petty grudge.

He sighed. "Kids these days."

Walking over to Mark, he placed a firm hand on his shoulder. "Young master, you need to leave. Now. The Veridian will be here soon. I'll handle them, but you can't be here when they arrive."

Mark turned to him, his face pale. The reality of what he had just done was sinking in fast. He nodded. "Alright, Mister Garrick."

His lackeys, who had been laughing minutes ago, were just as shaken. None of them had expected things to go this far. Turns out, all that talk about killing someone was just that—talk. Mark didn't actually have the guts for it.

Without another word, they turned to run, rushing toward the exit of the abandoned factory. But before they could take another step—

The air changed.

The temperature shot up, the room suddenly hot and suffocating. The walls seemed to close in, the air thick with something unnatural.

A voice cut through the tension.

"Hey… who said you could leave?"

Everyone froze. Slowly, they turned to look.

Standing there, right where he had been chained up, was Alfred.

Or at least, something that looked like him.

His former short hair has become a long hair with wreathed in flames, his eyes burning like molten fire. The chains that had once held him were now dripping, melted into useless slag. His entire presence felt… different. Like he wasn't the same person anymore.

Alfred—if that was even him anymore—took a step forward, fire flickering around his hands.

"None of you are leaving here alive."

"Impossible… You're the X-rank superhuman everyone's been talking about." Garrick's eyes widened as he stared at Alfred. "The one with the potential to reach planetary level."

Alfred frowned. "Old man, stay out of this. This is between me and him." He jabbed a finger at Mark.

Mark, who had been cowering moments ago, suddenly found his voice again. "You bastard! So you're not a normie?! Why the hell didn't you say so from the start? And what makes you think you can challenge me just because you've got some powers?!"

Before Alfred could respond, Garrick sighed and stepped forward, rolling his shoulders. "I'm afraid I can't let that happen. You see, he's my responsibility. I don't agree with his ways, but my duty is to protect him. If you want him, you'll have to go through me."

Alfred clicked his tongue. This guy was serious.

Still, the fire in his veins made him feel unstoppable. He glanced down at his own hands, feeling the raw energy pulsing through him.

"Fine by me."

In a burst of speed, he shot toward Mark, fully intending to take him out in one strike.

But before he could even get close—

BAM!

Garrick was already there.

The old man moved like a ghost, appearing in front of Alfred in an instant and throwing a devastating punch straight at his chest. Alfred barely managed to twist his body at the last second, the fist grazing his ribs instead of crushing them outright. Even then, the impact sent a sharp pain through his side.

Shit. He's fast.

Alfred landed a few steps away, his mind racing. Alright, think. He's stronger. Faster. More experienced. If I try to match him in a straight-up fight, I lose. No question.

He exhaled, eyes scanning Garrick's stance. But no one is invincible. Everyone has a pattern. A weakness. I just have to find it.

Garrick cracked his knuckles. "Not bad. You dodged that. But let's see how long you can keep up."

In a blink, he was in front of Alfred again, throwing another punch. This time, Alfred barely ducked under it, feeling the rush of air as the fist missed his head by inches.

He's testing me. Not going all out yet. He doesn't see me as a real threat. That's good. I can use that.

Alfred dashed back, pretending to be on the defensive. He needed time to observe. To learn his movements.

Garrick smirked. "What? Running already?"

Alfred ignored the taunt, keeping his eyes locked on him. Fast. Precise. He doesn't waste movement. If I try to trade blows, I lose. But if I can force him to make a mistake…

He noticed something. Every time Garrick moved in, he led with his left foot first. It was subtle, but it meant his weight shifted slightly before every attack.

A plan formed in Alfred's head.

Alright, old man. Let's see how you handle this.

He acted like he was tiring out, staggering slightly as he dodged another attack. Garrick took the bait, pressing forward.

The moment the old man stepped in, Alfred shifted his weight and faked a stumble.

Garrick lunged, thinking Alfred had finally slipped up.

That was exactly what Alfred wanted.

At the last second, he twisted his body and redirected Garrick's momentum, stepping aside just as the older man's own force carried him forward.

It worked.

Garrick's eyes widened as he overextended, just a fraction of a second off-balance.

That fraction was all Alfred needed.

With all the power he could muster, Alfred drove his flaming fist right into Garrick's exposed ribs.

BOOM!

The impact sent the old man flying backward, crashing into a stack of crates.

Alfred exhaled, shaking out his fist. "Got you."

Garrick groaned as he pushed himself up, holding his side. He looked at Alfred, and for the first time… he smiled.

"Clever kid."