A lone city under a dome moved through the barren and desolate land. Behind it lay nothing, before it an electric storm crackled. While the dry lightning was intimidating, the dome didn't turn, slowly forging ahead.
Withing the city a phenomenon of its own was occurring – fog. It spread from the center, eating building after building before spreading to the outer corners where crops grew.
Teens wisely stayed indoors, well behaved for once. The omegas didn't utter a sound and no movement came from the tallest building in the city.
Sahara sat in an apartment, biting a nail as she watched fog cover the entire city below. The weather in Regona was controlled. Someone had made this happen. Someone wanted it. And the feeling was ominous.
Shifting in her seat, she glanced at the holographic numbers ticking on the wall. "Where are you?" she murmured before returning to bite at the nail with a vengeance.
In the outskirts of the city, one could faintly make out the scaffolding of a half-finished building - Noctorious' base. The air was damp, within it a tension crackled, ready to boil over. If one squinted, they would be able to make out one or two figures standing among the scaffolding, dangerously far up. White from the skulls drawn on masks flashed.
Within the heart of the building, a guy crouched on a table, red streaks in his hair. He was examining his blood-covered fist, giving no notice to the cards he crumpled below his boots. Several other guys sat around, some on boards, some on broken furniture. Everyone but two wore masks covering their mouths with the same skull. Other than the guy on the table, Lance stood some distance away.
His shirt had several holes in it, revealing the muscle within. The cut on his forehead, gained from his last match in the fighting cage, had grown a scab. His eyes were half-closed.
Not far from him lay two bloodied figures, both almost unrecognizable due to their injuries.
Lance lifted his head. "They're here."
The boy with the bloodied fist looked up.
Silence hung in the air outside.
Swish.
A figure flashed by.
Swish – another followed.
Almost invisible to the naked eye, the Phantoms had come.
But Notorious was far from afraid.
"Hehehe," hyena-like laughter escaped the guy with red streaks as he stood. "Boys." He spread his arms, twisting his boots to further crumple the cards beneath his feet. "Let's have some fun!"
Lance glanced his way. "Zaki, remember the plan."
Zaki licked the blood on his fist, his lips curling before walking off. Lance turned his eyes to where a loud crash sounded.
As though the sound was the signal, the silence erupted.
Board after board whooshed out from the fog. Several made their way to the ground; the others went for the scaffolding. However, the Phantoms were in another tiger's territory. The moment boards flew between scaffolding, chaos erupted.
Figures melted from the shelter of construction, knocking riders from their boards. They disappeared as fast as they came, eerie laughter coming from behind the masks. They weaved in and out of the scaffolding, swinging and jumping from one to the other with ease. Few were on boards as they faced the skilled Phantoms.
The Phantoms didn't fall easy, however, the moment one was caught, a pile of Notorious members would take them on, beating skill with pure numbers, like a pack of hyenas taking on a single lion.
Borders were torn from boards in a variety of ways. Some were knocked down when a body crash into them, others would evade one only for a metal pipe to swing out from the fog and send them tumbling.
As fists flew, boarders fell from dangerous heights, and adrenaline rose, the confusion grew. With one side wearing masks with skulls, the other ones without, it was hard to tell without clear lighting who was who.
Noctorious soon showed they didn't care about who they attacked, hitting their own if they got in the way.
Within moments, they took down a Phantom member, tore the mask away, and while several decided to beat him, another swapped his own mask, taking on the identity of a Phantom. There was no fairness in this game.
The fight moved from boards to the ground in moments. Teens were everywhere, fighting tooth and nail. There was no coordination, just anarchy.
A certain group fought their way through, making it into the building.
Crash!
A Notorious member destroyed the already shabby chair when he went flying into it.
A burly figure cracked his knuckles. Marcus looked up, eyes ablaze. Sven stood just in front of him, Troy following on Marcus' side. From the fog, a figure ran over to catch up, panting.
"Night?" Troy noted the newcomer. "You don't need to be here."
Two other Phantoms in masks nodded in agreement.
"You kidding?" Night gulped a lungful of air. "I came as soon as I heard. I may not be a Phantom, but I never say no to a friend in trouble."
Marcus' eyes flashed. He turned, grabbing a guy who'd rushed him with a raised bat. He caught him by the throat, glaring.
Dropping his weapon, the attacker turned victim clawed at the hands, gasping for air as he was lifted into the air.
Several more attackers appeared.
Sven dodged, hitting out as Marcus tossed the guy in his hands to the side, taking a blow from another without blinking before striking back twice as hard. His other hand drew out a small object from the backpack hanging by one strap off his left shoulder. The item was used to hit another attacker on the head before it was tossed towards another group.
Hiss!
Smoke spewer from the device causing those approaching to start coughing and their eyes to tear. Their struggle was ignored by the Phantoms.
Troy blocked an attack aimed at Night, who helped by going for the attacker's feet and knocking him aside. The other Phantoms assisted, keeping them on the path no matter who they came across.
The group made their way through the building, taking on anyone who came at them.
"Hehe," the laugh sounded one second, the next, a force collided with Marcus' back. He took a step forward to regain his balance.
Splinters of wood rained around him as he turned.
A guy with red streaks stood there, no mask on his face. His eyes had a crazed gleam to them, his lip split and blood trickling down the side of his head. Most eye-catching were the fists dripping with red.
He looked at the remaining leg of the stool he'd broken across Marcus' back. "Oopsies." He twirled the leg that now was a sharp split. "I wonder how hard it would be to embed this in your leg." Zaki had joined.
Marcus saw red. He charged but was dodged.
Sven stepped in, his kick connecting. The splint went spinning into the air and Zaki scrambled back. "Hmm. Why do you all look like you lost something?" he mocked. He scratched his head.
"You're looking to die!" Marcus bellowed.
Sven stepped forward. Behind him, Troy and the others were taking care of more attackers.
"Where are they?" Sven asked.
The other guy stopped scratching, his eyes lighting up. "I'm assuming you mean the one who interrupted our party last time?" He tilted his head. "He can't talk right now." He grinned, revealing teeth stained with red.
"Bastar–" Marcus didn't get to finish as an attacker broke through and collided with him
"Hey!" Zaki complained. "That was my prey!" He smiled at Sven. "Want to play?"
Sven whirled, blocking the attack from behind, and engaged in a counter right away.
"Guess not." Zaki turned, eyes lighting up as they landed on Troy. "Bingo." He walked over.
Troy had just knocked his attacker to the ground.
Night stumbled by, taking a fist to the jaw before groggily dodging the next blow.
"Hello!" Zaki announced, swinging.
Troy whirled, blocking the fist and pushing back. "I don't have time for this," he muttered.
But Zaki didn't care. He crouched before charging.
Troy turned, avoiding the blow, but a handful of dust was tossed as Zaki passed.
His eyes teared as he fought to get his vision back. A force collided painfully with the back of his legs, sending him to one knee. Surprisingly, Troy let himself fall, rolling to the side before getting back to his feet. Through his blurred vision, he saw the next attack. He ducked to the side.
A foot collided with his neck. It didn't stop there, curling around. Using momentum, Zaki flicked around, pulling himself up on Troy's shoulders and with one motion, pulled back with his weight. Troy could do nothing as he crashed painfully backward.
The moment he touched the ground, his attacker was already out of reach.
The force of his fall had knocked the air from Troy's lungs and he was momentarily stunned.
Though his vision was still blurred, he saw a metallic flash.
"Troy!" Sven yelled in warning. He was too far away.
A blade descended, held in the hands of a teen whose eyes were filled with anticipation.
Marcus was caught up with too many attackers to do a thing. The other Phantoms were busy with their own fights.
Stab.
Blood droplets flew.
A grunt of pain sounded.
Troy's vision cleared to see Night kneeling. He'd attempted to catch the hand with the blade but mistimed. As a result, that blade was now embedded in his hand.
Marcus threw off his attackers. "Are you crazy?" he roared. He tossed another smoke bomb in the direction from which more attackers were coming.
Zaki stared at where the blade went through flesh, eyes wide with wonder. "It's so easy," he whispered before scratching his nose. "Remember, you asked for it, kind sir."
He scrambled back, dodging Marcus as he charged over.
Night grasped his hand, hissing. Troy had gotten up, eyes still tearing, but he immediately looked at the hand.
"Don't pull it," Sven commanded as he took care of the teens he was fighting and came over.
Marcus lunged at Zaki who dodged and retreated, seeming to decide it was time to call it quits.
"Tsk. That's my favorite!" He called from a safe distance. He pointed a finger at the knife embedded in Night's hand. "Return it to me, ok?" With that, he turned and disappeared.
Night didn't reply, beads of sweat forming on his forehead from the pain as he gritted his teeth.
"Lunatic," Marcus growled. All around, those from Noctorious seemed to think following Zaki was the wiser option. Or perhaps no one wanted to stick around after a real weapon had been used and the atmosphere changed.
Troy put a hand on Night's shoulder. "Dude...thanks..." he didn't have the words. They all knew things could have ended a lot worse.
"We should get you medical help..." Sven began as he took a look.
Night shook his head, face pale. "It hurts, but it'll be fine. Let's find them first."
Sven scowled.
Perhaps in another situation, he would have argued, but things were already quickly escalating beyond anyone's control. Finding those they came for and leaving as soon as possible was the best way out.
Marcus and Sven lead the way. Troy hung around Night, face filled with guilt as he looked like he wanted to help but didn't know how to. The other Phantoms with them followed, tense as they waited to be attacked again. But no one came.
They walked deeper, through rooms with half-built walls until they became actual rooms. Run-down, falling apart, the ground was covered in dirt, and any attempts to make this place look homier just made it shabbier instead.
They finally burst into the large room they sought, smoke from Marcus' latest bomb billowing behind along with coughing and retching sounds coming from the unlucky teens who'd been caught in it.
Several members of Noctorious waited for them, gazing at the newcomers from behind their masks.
At the far end stood Lance, leaning against the wall.
A quick scan of the room revealed two figures lying on the ground at the far end. It didn't take brains to put together who they were.
Marcus gritted his teeth. "Let. Them. Go."
Lance calmly looked up, eyes flittering over the group. "Charging blindly in here?" He raised his eyebrows. "This doesn't seem to be the Phantom's usual way." He scratched his chin. "Forgive me for prying, but why does it feel like you currently lack..." he paused, "a leader?"
Marcus fumed.
Sven stepped forward. "Let them go," he repeated.
Lance held up his palms. "If that's what you wanted so badly, why not just ask nicely? Why come charging in here like a bunch of lunatics and disrupt our peace?"
Marcus took a step toward him, but Sven reached out an arm to block him. The calmer in the group, he could sense that the teen before them was not someone to be messed with. He radiated the air of cold danger he could liken to any opponent he would think twice of messing with.
"Things have already escalated to this point," Lance sighed. "Too bad. Today's not a good day to fight." he nodded to the two unconscious boys. "I'm afraid our games might have gone a little far. You should get them medical attention."
Even though the Phantoms wanted nothing more than to destroy every Noctorious member in the room, they didn't.
Sven was the first to move. He walked to where his friends lay on the ground and crouched. He patted Noah's cheek, getting a groan in response.
"Help me out," he spoke.
Phantoms rushed forward, helping him to pick the boys up.
Lance watched before moving his eyes back to where Marcus stood, burning holes into him with a gaze that said he was ready to murder someone. His fists clenched so tight his knuckles were white.
Lance's eyes flittered by him. "You." He pointed a finger.
Face pale, Night looked up.
"You look a lot like someone I know," Lance stretched his words.
Night narrowed his eyes, clutching the injured hand.
Lance bared his teeth. "Kinda makes me want to beat you up."
Night scoffed in reply.
Troy and Marcus stepped forward.
"Leave it," Sven warned as he walked by, helping to support Noah. "We should focus on those injured. Other things can wait." He continued to the exit, completely ignoring Noctorious who returned the favor.
Marcus pointed a finger at Lance. "We'll remember this."
"Choose your battles wisely," Lance told him.
A muscle in Marcus's jaw jumped. "You the leader?"
Lance chuckled. "I'm honored." He nodded to the door. "Why don't you leave while we're being nice?"
Marcus nodded. "I'll remember you."
"Can't promise the same," came the calm reply.
Troy was the one who pulled Marcus away before the boy could burst a vein from anger.
It was as though a secret signal had spread when the Phantoms left. The fighting ceased. Those able to board helped the injured. They melted back into the darkness, leaving behind broken pieces of old furniture, walls, scaffolding, and groaning members of Noctorious.
"We let them go, just like that?" Zaki stepped into the room.
"That's what he said," Lance replied.
"Boring," Zaki complained. He dropped a hand on Lance's shoulders. "Say, since when were you one to listen to the rules?"
Lance shook the hand off. "Don't you think it's more fun this way?" He asked, a gleam entering his eyes. "Can't you just see it?"
Zaki raised his eyebrows.
"The mighty Phantoms." A smile spread across Lance's face. "They're about to be in for a shock." His eyes stayed on where the group had disappeared. "Where one falls, another shall rise." He turned to Zaki, "Do you know what's more fun than anything?"
"Blood?" Zaki tried.
"Chaos," came the response.
Some distance from the building, shrouded by the mist from the eyes of those fighting, a figure stood on a sleek black hoverboard. When he watched the Phantoms enter, his fingers curled into fists. If one were to look closely, they would see his hands trembling ever so slightly.
The figure waited until the moment the Phantoms exited, carrying two unconscious figures with them. As the figures headed off with the wounded, the figure tipped his head back, his fists slowly relaxing.
The action caused his face to be in full view.
A breath escaped Terrell. Then, without glancing back, he turned and boarded away, letting the mist swallow him once more.