The Heart of Zero

The smoke hadn't yet fully dissipated. The shattered rooftop stood in silence, a grim representation of a hellish battlefield. The ruined walls, jagged and incomplete, clung to fragments of bricks and debris. Broken desks and chairs, scorched by intense heat, lay toppled on their sides, some reduced to blackened ash, leaving only smoking wooden shards. Cracks crisscrossed the ground like a spider's web, spreading outward, rendering the entire rooftop a precarious structure on the brink of collapse.

Shards of glass lay scattered, glinting faintly in the dim light, trembling from the lingering heat in the air like frozen tears from the battlefield. The acrid scent of burning filled the air, forcing one to hold their breath. The shattered bricks stood solemnly, like scarred warriors, while the twisted steel supports, deformed by the heat, stretched outward like tortured spines.

Below, students and teachers stood frozen in shock, staring at the scene. Some covered their mouths, pale-faced, their eyes filled with disbelief and unease, as though this apocalyptic scene didn't belong in the campus they knew. A few stood paralyzed, as if weighed down by an invisible force, while others backed away in fear. Nervous murmurs rippled through the crowd, the atmosphere heavy with an inexplicable tension.

A deep, oppressive sound broke the silence, like an ominous presence drawing closer. The smoke tore open, revealing two figures descending from above, landing firmly by the broken wall. As the wind blew, their cloaks fluttered, stirring up clouds of dust. The heavy sound of their footsteps echoed sharply amidst the ruins.

Shingin raised his eyes toward the unexpected intruders. The first to catch his gaze was a man in a long black cloak with a face of sharp determination. His skin, dark and rugged, bore scars of past battles, and his body exuded an unrelenting iron-like aura that suffocated those around him. His icy eyes swept over Shingin and the others, radiating a merciless and cold killing intent, as if seeing straight through to their cores.

The other figure was shorter and more restless. His eyes flitted across the ruins and between the three fighters, his demeanor uneasy yet calculating. Compared to his companion, he seemed less imposing, yet his gaze gleamed with a sinister glint, like a venomous snake coiled in darkness, radiating a subtle but unsettling danger.

"Twenty—" the black-cloaked man began, his cold voice resonating through the ruins like a heavy hammer. "Do you remember who you are? To stoop to brawling with these ignorant kids!" His tone was laden with reproach, sharp and cutting like a blade, as though condemning Twenty's betrayal of their cause. His piercing gaze carried an unyielding severity.

The man addressed as Twenty—earlier their relentless opponent—stood to the side, his fists clenched and shoulders trembling. Despite the ragged state he was left in after the battle, his eyes burned with anger and defiance. Glaring at the black-cloaked man, he muttered through gritted teeth, "I could've dealt with these brats myself... if only you two hadn't been late! Twenty-One, Twenty-Six..." His voice dripped with resentment and fury, as though his failure stemmed entirely from their tardiness.

Shingin's heart sank as he recalled the term "Watcher Thirteen," which Rayl had mentioned. A chill ran through him as he muttered the numbers under his breath: "Twenty... Twenty-One... Twenty-Six...?" His voice cut through the tense air, the weight of the names casting an even darker pall over the confrontation.

Meanwhile, Twenty seemed to notice the growing crowd below. Teachers and students were gathering on the field, alarmed by the scene. Some faculty members had begun making frantic phone calls, likely summoning the authorities.

"Retreat," ordered the black-cloaked Twenty-One curtly. At the same time, the smaller Twenty-Six glanced toward the nearby warehouse, his eyes narrowing in sudden fury. The once-sturdy structure had been caught in the destruction, now buried under debris of tiles and cement, likely entombing something important.

"Damn brats..." Twenty-Six spat, suppressing his anger as he cast one last venomous glance at Shingin and his comrades before signaling their retreat.

Yahageshii watched them withdraw, his eyes blazing with fury. His alien soul continued to pulse within him, radiating heat. Clenching his teeth, he growled, "Letting them go is as good as releasing a tiger back into the wild! We'll definitely face them again, maybe even suffer a sneak attack next time..." His voice rose as he turned to Shingin and Ryuosho, resolve burning in his expression. "Shingin, lazybones! Let's go after them!"

Ryuosho stretched lazily, scratching his head with a trace of exasperation in his eyes. "Chase them? They're already this far gone; how're we supposed to catch up..." Before he could finish, Yahageshii grabbed him by the collar, dragging him forward.

Yahageshii's gaze was resolute. He patted Shingin's shoulder lightly, a silent gesture of encouragement. His eyes lingered on Shingin's thoughtful face before nodding slightly. "We'll go after them. Meet us later."

Noticing Shingin's faintly worried expression, Yahageshii flashed a brief smile, adding, "Don't worry. We'll be careful."

Shingin nodded, watching his two companions disappear into the smoke. Ryuosho glanced back over his shoulder, a teasing smirk on his face. "I don't know what's going on or who they are," he called out, "but I can't stand people like them bullying middle schoolers."

Yahageshii let out a hearty laugh, tightening his grip on Ryuosho as if acknowledging their shared sentiment. Together, they vanished into the haze, leaving Shingin alone.

As their figures faded, Shingin's eyes shimmered faintly, a subtle wave of emotion stirring within him. He glanced at the ruined school building, the devastation mirrored in his heavy heart. Taking a deep breath, he steeled his resolve. The swirling smoke around him seemed to swallow his form as he disappeared into the rooftop's desolation.