Newfear

On the rooftop of the opposite building, the motorcyclist, Rodion, moved like a programmed machine. He pulled out a small device from his pocket, its buttons glowing red. Watching Five for a moment, he then turned back to his motorcycle, which stood ready. The engine's roar synchronized with the quickening beats of his heart.

Suddenly, a massive explosion shook the atmosphere. The sound of commotion filled the square, and thick pink smoke rose into the sky, covering the scene like a theater curtain descending to conceal the chaos to come.

The crowd screamed in panic, cameras fell from photographers' hands, and all eyes turned toward the source of the explosion.

Arthur, through the earpiece, shouted: "Everyone, get to your positions!"

Amid the chaos... where the explosion's roar mixed with pink smoke veiling the sky like an eerie cloud... the square was in a state of collective paralysis. The crowd rushed in every direction, guards moved swiftly to form a defensive circle around the Counselor, while the chatter of radios intertwined with terrified screams.

Yet, at that crucial moment, time seemed to slow. The distracted gazes drawn by the explosion, the snipers momentarily losing focus, the armed men unconsciously shifting toward the smoke... all of them lifted their heads toward the sky, as if some unseen force compelled them to look.

Above the rooftop, the motorcycle had just launched. Its wheels sliced through the edge, leaving behind a trail of swirling dust. The scene was almost artistic... an image of grandeur. The motorcycle soared into the air like a predatory bird spreading its wings, ready to strike.

The wind whistled around it, the engine's roar grew louder, as if announcing an extraordinary moment. Eyes locked in place, the crowd frozen, and the guards and armed men stood still for a few moments, stunned by what they were witnessing.

The motorcycle cut through the sky, soaring like a meteor about to fall. The gleaming metal of its frame reflected the sun's glow over the pink smoke, making it look like a falling star in broad daylight. Every detail was crystal clear... the spinning tires, the frame vibrating with each meter it traveled in the air, and Rodion, clad in his black suit, dominating the scene with unshakable confidence.

At the peak of the spectacle, just as the motorcycle reached its highest altitude, the unexpected happened. Rodion detached from the bike. In one smooth and breathtaking motion, he unfurled two massive black wings from his back. The wings instantly caught the wind, granting him stability as he glided through the sky like a dark angel.

Now in freefall, the motorcycle plunged straight toward the main platform. In that instant, excitement transformed into pure tension. Everyone in the square realized that disaster was imminent, yet they were powerless to move. Their eyes followed the motorcycle, while Rodion drifted away, gliding towards the nearby alleys with his glider wings.

In this seemingly eternal moment, silence reigned. No one spoke. No one screamed. The crowd, the guards, the armed men, even the snipers on the surrounding rooftops... all of them bore witness to a scene that felt like a dream, a fated moment where time itself paused to observe this daring, impossible act.

Then, suddenly, the silence shattered. The motorcycle crashed onto the platform with immense force. The resulting minor explosion snapped everyone back to reality... guards shouting, parts of the platform collapsing, and smoke billowing into the air... while Rodion disappeared into the alleys, leaving behind an unforgettable spectacle.

The motorcycle struck the platform like a blazing meteor. The impact shook the ground, debris scattered in all directions. Guards rushed to shield the Counselor, raising their shields to protect him from the flying shrapnel.

Five, through the wireless device, with a subtle smirk: "Phase one is complete."

Chaos spread like wildfire through the packed square. The screams intermingled with the buzzing of radios and the barked orders of the guards. The thick pink smoke swallowed the colors, turning everything into a blurred painting of gray distortion. But above all this noise, Five stood on a high rooftop, watching with cold eyes, smiling like a conductor relishing the destruction of his own orchestrated symphony.

Elsewhere, inside a dark room filled with screens broadcasting the chaos live, Seraph watched with deadly calm. A faint smirk crossed his lips. He lifted his heavy rifle with unwavering steadiness and aligned his scope with the moving target.

Seraph, whispering to himself: "Your time has come, James."

He pulled the trigger. The gunshot cut through the noise like a piercing scream in the storm. The bullet streaked through the air, devouring the distance with lethal precision. Everyone in the square froze, time seemingly halting. The guards moved sluggishly, as if trapped in a world of ice, while the Counselor stared at his impending death, powerless.

But before the bullet could reach its mark, something unexpected occurred. From within the crowd, a dark figure burst forward at an inhuman speed. A crimson cloak billowed like fire, and a black suit clung to his frame like the night itself. He leaped into the air, almost flying, his hand stretching out with unbreakable resolve.

His fingers closed around the speeding bullet while it was still in motion. The sound of metal clashing against his skin echoed like a small explosion. With an indescribable force, he crushed the bullet between his fingers, reducing it to fragments that scattered in the air.

All eyes turned to him. The crowd murmured in fear, terror painted on their faces. Counselor James slowly turned, his face pale, his eyes widening as he recognized the man standing before him. His voice trembled as he muttered.

James: "R... Rivander?!"

Rivander stood firm, as if the ground beneath him had found its anchor. The wind played with his brown locks, his hazel eyes gleaming under the dark shadows of his crimson hood, reflecting an unbreakable resolve.

He slowly raised his head, his movement carrying the weight of an impending storm. His gaze reassured the Counselor but simultaneously warned all who dared approach. In a deep voice, filled with authority and certainty, he addressed Jack Connor.

Rivander: "Stay behind me, Mr. Counselor… This night is far from over."

In the distant darkness, Seraph kept his eye pressed against the sniper lens, his breaths steady as he adjusted his aim. But suddenly, his gaze met Rivander's through the scope... as if the man's eyes pierced through the distance and glass, reaching into his very soul.

Seraph, whispering through the earpiece: "Damn it... I missed."

A moment of silence, then Five's voice comes from the wireless device in quietly.

Five: "Really… That's unfortunate. But don't worry… He'll get what he deserves."

On the other side, Rivander moved quietly, raising his hand slowly to his earpiece. His voice was low.

Rivander: "Maviudas, don't let him escape."

From the other end, a sharp and confident voice, carrying a strict tone, crackled through the speaker. Maviudas appeared... a man of imposing presence, his sleek black hair shimmering under the light, and his electric blue eyes sparking like lightning. He exuded a deadly charisma, wearing a perfectly tailored black suit, a blue shirt brimming with confidence, and a red tie that burned like a drop of fire.

Maviudas, moving swiftly up the stairs: "I'm almost there… Take care of the Counselor."

Rivander shot a fleeting glance at the Counselor, his hazel eyes brimming with quiet amusement before he responded coolly.

Rivander, with calm confidence: "Ah… Don't worry. Everything is under control."

He pressed his earpiece, scanning the Counselor and the crowd quickly before speaking in a low, precise tone.

Rivander: "Agnes, did you catch him?"

Agnes... a woman of commanding presence and fierce determination... emerged amidst the alleyway chaos. Her dark blue hair swayed with the wind, her deep blue eyes glowing like the dawn's light. She wore a black jacket over a blue coat, radiating an aura of discipline and confidence.

Swift and agile, she maneuvered through obstacles, cutting through the crowd like a hunter tracking its prey. Ahead of her, Rodion dashed like a shadow melting into the darkness. Agnes locked onto him, increasing her speed as she shouted into the radio.

Agnes, talking through the earpiece: "I see him! I'm taking him down now!"

But suddenly, the roar of a car engine is heard. A black car speeds around the corner at a reckless pace. Agnes tries to stop, but time isn't on her side. The car slams into her with brutal force, sending her flying into the air before she crashes hard onto the ground, rolling several meters before coming to a halt.

The driver rolls down his window, shouting angrily: "Damn it! Have you lost your mind? Watch where you're going!"

Agnes, writhing in pain, slowly pushes herself up, quickly checking her body before brushing the dust off her coat. Her eyes burn with determination, but as she looks around, there's no sign of Rodion. She clenches her radio, frustration and anger filling her voice.

Agnes: "I lost him..."

Rivander, in a calm tone: "It's okay. The police will handle it. Return to the site immediately. We need to strengthen security here."

Agnes, grits her teeth, clenching her fists but ultimately complying: "Understood."

She turns toward the dark alleys, scanning the area for a moment. Taking a deep breath, she turns back and starts running swiftly, but something inside her whispers that this chase is far from over.

Nearby, inside the black car that hit Agnes, the driver pulls a small wireless device from his pocket, presses it, and speaks in a quiet yet firm voice.

Driver: "She's on her way back. The job is done."

On the other end, Five stands on the rooftop of the building opposite the museum, walking with unhurried steps. The wind plays with his long coat, and the sound of his boots echoes across the surface. He brings his radio close to his lips, responding in a low, satisfied tone.

Five: "Well done. You may leave now."

Slowly, he closes the wireless device, stepping toward the edge of the rooftop as if every step announces the beginning of a new tragedy. The cold wind lashes against his face, but it doesn't bother him... it only amplifies his eerie presence. His pink eyes glimmer, reflecting all the agony of the past, and to him, everything seems like a game he controls with his cold hands.

Raising a megaphone to his lips, his calm smile gradually widens... a blend of mischief and madness... as if the long-awaited moment has finally arrived. His voice cuts through the cold air, carrying a deadly chill and an unwavering confidence that reaches deep into the soul.

Five: "Good evening, my dear friends… or as you prefer to call it, an evening of justice! My name is Five. Pleased to meet you."

Faces turn. The murmurs stop. All eyes fix on the figure standing at the edge of the opposite building.

Some eyes are filled with terror, others with anticipation, and a few with fury... but all are locked onto him. The journalists, gripping their cameras, hesitate for a moment before swiftly pointing their lenses toward him, as if realizing that this is not just an event… but a moment that will be etched into history.

Among the crowd, reactions vary. Some freeze in place, while others take slow, cautious steps backward, as if trying to escape the heavy shadow Five has cast over the scene with his voice.

Five: "Here we are. In the heart of a city groaning under the weight of your greed, drowning in the illusion of your power. But tonight… oh, tonight is not like any other night. No, no. Tonight is my poem, my symphony, written with my tears and my screams. It is my moment. The moment of twisted truth that hides behind your masks. The moment to tell the story you tried to bury in the darkness of your laboratories."

He pauses, lifting his eyes to the sky as if speaking to something greater... something only he can see.

Five: "The story of a child… who was never more than a lump of flesh, moving at your wretched command. A child you stripped of his name, his emotions, even his right to cry. You made him a rat, a test subject for your sick experiments.

Do you know what it means to be born without a name? Without meaning? To be just a number in a file, just a rat in a cage? Have you ever felt that your entire life was nothing but an experiment and that pain was the only real thing in it?"

He pauses for a moment, his gaze narrowing as if recalling every moment he has lived through, then lets out a short laugh... one filled with madness and despair.

Five: "I know this feeling very well. Because you… you were the ones who taught it to me. You placed me under your cold lights, plunged your needles into my body, measured my heartbeat... as if I wasn't human, as if I had never been alive."

As Five continues speaking, every word seeps into the crowd like knives, and with each passing moment, Rivander's expression darkens. The shock on his face is evident... his eyes widen, and a pale hue washes over him, as though Five's words have carved open old wounds in his memory. Inside him, a bitter conflict rages, as if memories are attacking him from all sides. Slowly, with a dazed look, he turns to Counselor James, searching for an answer to a truth he does not want to see.

Rivander, his voice trembling: "Is… is what he's saying true…?:

His voice carries doubt and helplessness, as if the very question itself is an admission of something he has been trying to push out of his mind, something he dreads to face... even before himself.

Five steps forward, his words sharpening, turning into daggers aimed at everyone who hears them.

Five: "But one day, as I lay there... broken... one thought consumed me. What happens if the rat stands up? What happens if it decides to fight back?"

His smile widens... a mixture of sarcasm and madness... as if he is savoring every moment of his performance.

Five: "Tonight… I will show you the sin you chose to ignore. The one born within the walls of your lies, nurtured in the shadows of your actions. I have never been anything but a distorted reflection of your greed, and now, here I stand... not to beg for mercy, but to remind you of one simple truth.

The monsters you create… do not die. They learn."

He pauses, his gaze turning to ice, dripping with cold fury, his voice carrying a deadly finality.

Five: "I am not just an explosion waiting to happen. I am your dark justice, the consequence you planted with your own hands. Every scream, every pain, every scar was a debt… and tonight, I am here to collect. Don't try to run... not because you can't… but because, for the first time in your lives, you are facing something you cannot escape…

Your reckoning."

From above, Five watches them, his pink eyes glowing like a predator's as it observes its prey. The final word he utters reverberates through the air like a deadly hum, as if time itself has frozen.

Below the platform, in the plaza, the crowd is unsettled. Some instinctively step back, while others raise their phones, recording the moment, immersed in a state of deep shock. Whispers of fear spread among them. Detective Arthur stands motionless, his eyes darting between Five and the people around him, while Rivander, despite trying to maintain his composure, feels an unease creeping into his heart. President James remains silent, his face pale.

Arthur, who has been observing with burning eyes, suddenly breaks the silence with a commanding voice.

Arthur: "First and second squads, move to the opposite building now! The enemy has revealed himself. Surround him... don't let him escape! Third squad, start evacuating the civilians immediately!"

But before the squads can move, Five's cold voice slices through the air like a blade.

Five: "Ah, Detective. I see you there. Thinking about how you'll stop me, how you'll save these so-called innocent people. But let me tell you something…

They are not innocent. No one here is. They are all accomplices in the crime called this world.

You are the rats… and the trap has already been sprung."

In an instant, the sound of windows sliding open cuts through the air. Dozens of windows on both sides of the opposite building are pushed wide. The crowd's eyes shift, turning red with panic as they catch sight of the movement. From within the windows, suppressor-fitted rifles emerge... dozens of hands raising their weapons, aiming directly at the crowd and law enforcement. Fingers rest on triggers, poised to fire at any second. The atmosphere becomes suffocating... filled with muffled screams, a charged tension crackling through the air.

Rivander's hand jerks forward as he shouts a warning.

Rivander: "Fall back! It's a trap!"

But there is no time to escape. The eyes that had been following the open windows now snap back to Five. He stands there, completely at ease, his grin wide, dripping with malice and mockery. He watches this moment as if it is a grand spectacle, a victory unfurling before him like golden dust scattered in the air.

The grand city square is packed with people. On the platform stand Counselor James and Rivander. The murmurs of the crowd shift into hushed fear as Five's manic laughter rises from the top of the opposing building.

All eyes turn to Five. The murmur of unease morphs into a stifled panic. A group of journalists lift their cameras, capturing the scene, while countless phones broadcast the moment live.

Journalist 1, voice trembling, struggling to breathe: "Is… is he serious?!"

Journalist 2, gripping his shoulder, whispering anxiously: "Don't move too much… we're in the line of fire!"

Five raises his arms slowly, as if presenting a masterpiece... a chaotic tableau he has meticulously crafted, as if this moment is his final masterpiece, a scene that cannot be repeated. His eyes gleam with a terrifying fervor, his lips curling into a smile charged with tension... a mix of euphoria and the hell he has forged with his own hands.

He turns slowly, savoring the sight of panic around him... the suppressed screams, the pale faces, the limbs trembling uncontrollably. He lifts his chin slightly, like a ruler standing atop a throne of ruin.

Five, in a quiet yet mocking voice, as he scans their faces one by one: "Look at you now… you are the real rats. Trapped. Helpless. With no way out… and now.

Let's begin the show."

His hands rise ever so slowly, as if addressing an audience awaiting the grand finale. And in that moment... his laughter bursts through the air, sharp and jagged, like shards of glass piercing the silence. Bodies shudder. Shoulders hunch. Stifled gasps slip through the crowd, as if they know that what comes next will be far worse than they ever imagined.

The fear isn't just a fleeting emotion... it is a crawling beast, tightening its grip on every soul present. The silence isn't a reprieve... it is a snare, saturated with impending doom. Eyes widen. Bodies freeze. Only the faintest of sounds remain, struggling against suffocation... ragged breaths, hearts pounding like war drums, choked cries smothered in throats, waiting for the inevitable explosion.

As if time itself had frozen for a moment.

Or perhaps…

That had been the plan all along.