CHAPTER 59: CHAPTER 8.11 : SHADOWS BEFORE THE STORM

Not long after the incident,

Sandra, Al’s mother, was watching TV while chopping food in the Virellano residence kitchen—a hobby that was one of the reasons Edward could keep loving her despite the relentless temptations of the upper-class world.

Her eyes were fixed on the TV, but her mind was elsewhere.

Ever since Al had returned, she couldn’t stop thinking about him. Regret and denial constantly clashed in her heart.

How bright David was in her eyes... and how dim Al appeared in her heart.

But why did David have to be the switched child? Why did Al have to be the biological one?

Why couldn’t it have been David instead?

Ever since Al came home, internal family issues kept surfacing. The way Al spoke—his subtle barbs and remarks—made her angry and guilty at the same time.

And she realized... for now, there was no reconciliation between David and Al. The two of them could not coexist.

She didn’t know whether she should continue trying to keep both boys under the same roof, or let one of them go—though deep down, she knew exactly who would be the one to leave if that day ever came.

The unwanted biological son... or the adored, switched child.

Her daydream shattered when the TV screen suddenly shifted to breaking news.

Then a viral headline flashed across national TV screens.

"Breaking News — Explosion at Hazandeen International High School This Afternoon.

Authorities Suspect Terrorist Attack, Investigation Underway.

School Temporarily Closed for the Next Few Days."

The footage showed the scorched interior of the HIHS library, smoke still lingering. Panic-stricken students with shaken faces filled the screen.

Sandra dropped what she was doing as she watched the news. Her hand trembled, clutching the remote.

"Oh God..."

She closed her eyes, her hands clasped in prayer.

"That’s Al’s school... Please let him be okay..." she whispered.

But then... a stray thought crept into her mind.

What if... Al disappeared...?

Wouldn’t life be... easier?

"No... no..." she muttered, shaking her head.

"What kind of mother thinks like that about her own child?"

---

Meanwhile at the Indra Household

"WHAT?! An explosion at HIHS?!"

Indra’s mother shrieked, nearly dropping her phone after a call from her husband.

She rushed to Indra’s room.

"Indra! Call Al! Right now!"

Indra approached calmly.

"Relax, Mom. I just got a message from Al. He said he’s okay."

Indra’s mother exhaled deeply, nearly collapsing onto the floor in relief.

"Thank goodness... Where is he now? We need to see him."

"I tried calling again, but his phone’s off. He’s probably still at HIHS. The place is crowded and access is restricted right now. It might be hard to get in. Are you sure you want to go?"

She nodded without hesitation. Her face filled with concern.

Soon, they left for HIHS.

There was something deeply ironic about it—Al’s own birth mother barely reacted to the danger he had faced. Meanwhile, Indra’s mother, with no blood relation, was terrified and willing to drop everything just to check on him.

---

Late Afternoon – Lower City District

A black silhouette darted through the narrow alleys, blending into the shadows like a phantom in the night.

Wearing a black uniform, hood pulled low, Al moved like a shadow—gliding across fences, leaping over walls, crossing the rooftops of old buildings without a sound.

He arrived in a dim alleyway lit only by a flickering streetlamp above a trash bin.

There—he spotted them. Three figures talking... or perhaps fighting?

"You IDIOTS!"

Jogo barked, kicking one of Rudi’s henchmen into a pile of cardboard.

"S-Sorry, Boss Jogo... We rushed it, didn’t realize that girl Rina was in the library with that orphan boy..." stammered one of them.

"If she gets hurt—I’ll kill you all first!"

Perched silently on the roof, Al listened.

"So it was them," he muttered under his breath.

His mind flashed back to the moment those two students bumped into him earlier. One of their bags had spilled open, revealing a black book. The exact same one Al had found at the center of the library explosion.

I don’t meddle in the world’s business... But it seems the world keeps dragging me into its mess. Or maybe... I’m the one it’s targeting.

The thought brewed in Al’s mind.

Without another word, Al leapt down silently—like a bat descending from the night sky to snatch its prey.

No sound. No mercy.

WHAM!

One strike to the first thug’s neck—he dropped instantly.

"WHO—?!" Jogo shouted.

Before the second thug could react, a low kick took out the back of his knees, followed by a crushing elbow to the nape.

"Ughk—!" He collapsed.

Jogo spun, stunned by the speed.

Al now faced him, still not using any magical energy—just sheer skill.

Jogo, a martial arts prodigy, managed to block a few of Al’s attacks and countered with wild strikes—none of which hit their mark.

Even with his talent, Jogo was overwhelmed. Every move he made was shut down. Invisible pressure pressed from every angle.

"W-What kind of monster...?" he muttered, his stance breaking.

Al jumped back and stood on a stack of crates.

From the haze of shadows, he revealed himself.

But to Jogo’s eyes, he was not a human—he was a creature cloaked in darkness. No light, no face... just a humanoid shadow with glowing, sharp eyes.

"Who are you?! What’s your problem with us?! Who sent you?!" Jogo shouted.

His face was bruised, his body swaying from the pain—black and purple marks starting to bloom across his limbs.

Suddenly—Al vanished again.

He was behind Jogo now.

"You like explosions, don’t you?"

He whispered into Jogo’s ear.

Before Jogo could turn—

BOOM!

Multiple mini explosions went off on Jogo’s body—stomach, back, thighs, neck.

Elemental Magic – Fire Type: Mini Fire Bomb

Each burst burned deep, controlled, and precise.

Jogo screamed—and then dropped, his body smoking.

"If you don’t like fireworks, maybe stop playing with them."

Al whispered to the crumpled figure.

Then, Al dragged the three bodies to the center of the alley, stripped off their outerwear, and tied them up—leaving them in nothing but boxers.

He glanced at Jogo, who was barely conscious.

"Your body’s pretty tough..."

He rummaged through their clothes.

One by one, he pulled out their wallets and emptied them.

"This all you’ve got? Not enough to pay for school repairs."

He scribbled a note and slipped it into each wallet.

Compensation for HIHS Facility Damage. Transfer payment within 3 days. If not—I’ll be back.

In the distance, he heard the pounding of patrol boots.

By the time the guards arrived, all that remained were three half-naked bodies tied up, empty wallets tossed in front of them—and a faint scent of smoke still lingering in the air.

Al was gone.

---

That Night – Rooftop of the Tallest Building in the City

The wind howled at the top of the city’s highest tower. Below, the city lights flickered like an ocean of stars.

Al stood still, silhouetted against the moonlight. His black cloak rippled in the breeze.

Behind him, six shadow soldiers appeared in perfect formation. Clad in jet-black uniforms with only a faint silver crest on their chests.

A single woman stepped forward—firm posture, graceful stride. She lowered her hood.

It was Miss Aiza.

Her voice was sharp and calm.

"Master."

Al turned slightly, his piercing gaze scanning the unit behind her.

"All these recent incidents... They’re complicated," he said quietly, clearly.

"But because of them... we’ve found something that’s been hidden all this time."

He looked up to the sky, as if seeing beyond the clouds.

"Something big is coming. I can feel it—its presence is growing stronger. We need to move faster."

Al then turned his eyes to his subordinates.

"You all know what needs to be done now."

"Use everything we’ve got. Make this mission a success."

The woman—Miss Aiza—bowed deeply.

"Yes, Master."

Followed by a unified response behind her—

"Yes, Master!"

And in the blink of an eye—they vanished.

Al stood alone once again.

The wind tugged at his cloak. The city below buzzed softly.

"A big war..." Al muttered.

---

At that very moment, in a place swallowed by darkness...

A single eye opened—its iris glowing crimson, with a jagged black-and-yellow pupil staring sharply at the shadow-filled world before it.

Cloaked figures stood silently in front of it, heads bowed in deep reverence, as if worshipping a god.

Then, a voice echoed from the eye’s direction—low, ancient, and incomprehensible to human ears:

"Wath-tou-nha-nhi" (It is time.)

"Pkha-muza-ang-lop-pho" (The big war...)

At that very moment, in perfect synchrony with Al standing atop the tower—

Al: "...will begin!"

The eye: "Iphu-ammu-o-alai" (...will begin!)

And the eye slowly closed, as all those present knelt in complete submission.

---

Back on the rooftop, Al gazed into the night sky.

In the distance, thunder cracked across the sky—

as if signaling the storm that was about to begin.

Thunder cracked.

Al’s eyes narrowed.

Far away, the ancient eye pulsed once more.

Two sides.

One war.

And fate, now fully awakened, had begun to stir.

---