The ballroom was in chaos. A massive breach gaped in the wall, debris scattered across the floor where lifeless bodies lay.

People ran in panic, some desperately seeking shelter behind overturned tables and heavy curtains.

Amidst the pandemonium, grotesque creatures moved in hordes, their grotesque forms hunched and fixated on their gruesome task—feeding on the spines of the fallen, their vile motions feeding the air with a chilling dread.

High above this nightmare, on the balcony, Malachi jolted awake.

The distant screams and destruction below jolted him from unconsciousness. The pain in his side was immediate, anchoring him to the severity of the moment.

Bianca and the curly-haired dude stood at the edge of the chaos, whispering urgently. "They're everywhere," he said, glancing around with wary eyes.

Bianca nodded, her expression tense. "I can't really see them... just their outlines. It's like they're shadows moving through the light."

Behind Malachi, an older couple sat huddled together, their fear evident even in their silence.

With them was a mother clutching her twelve-year-old son protectively.

Bianca turned and noticed Malachi sitting up, her face lighting up with relief. She rushed to him, enveloping him in a tight hug.

"Hey, what's up with you?" Malachi asked, surprised.

Bianca pulled back slightly, her eyes searching his face. "I thought you were dead," she confessed, her voice choked with emotion.

Malachi stood up, glancing across the room at the man in the black and white suit—someone he'd noticed on the dance floor before the explosion.

They exchanged knowing nods.

"What's going on?" Malachi asked, turning back to the woman.

"It's a bloodbath," Bianca replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

The curly-haired guy chimed in, "Yeah, some snake-looking things attacked."

Bianca gestured to the curly-haired guy. "Oh, Malachi, this is Noah. He saved you."

Malachi nodded, grateful. "Oh yeah? Thanks, man." Noah just gave a modest smile.

The old man, sitting nearby, shook his head in confusion.

"What are y'all talking about? I don't see any creatures, just shadows and noise."

His words hung in the air, a stark reminder of the unseen terror that still lurked around them, visible only to some.

He ran a hand over his mouth, bewildered.

What kind of mess had Gramps sent him into? Explosions, chaos, and panic flooded his senses.

Screams, blasts, and monstrous roars pierced the air, mingling with the chaos.

Malachi, unsteady, gestured animatedly. "I know I hit my head, but please tell me I'm not the only one hearing this?"

Bianca, her gaze sharp, nodded toward the source of the noise. "Go take a look."

He felt it—a discordant hum that vibrated not just in his ears, but deep within his bones.

The karmic energy was a subtle tremor, a faint ripple of imbalance, like the aftershock of a cosmic earthquake.

It felt like a cold, weightless pressure pressing down on him, a sense of profound wrongness that resonated with a deep, instinctive understanding of cosmic justice.

But interwoven with this unsettling tremor was something far more visceral—pure evil.

This was not a subtle pressure; it was a searing heat, a stench of decay and malice that clawed at his mind.

It was the raw, untamed energy of chaos, a force that sought not merely to disrupt, but to obliterate.

Steeling himself, he rose and cautiously made his way down, every step bringing him closer to the mysterious heart of the turmoil.

Bodies were strewn across the polished marble, limbs contorted at unnatural angles.

The scene was dominated by a horde of serpentine creatures. Their bodies were a mottled green and grey, segmented like colossal snakes, but with the torsos and arms of hulking humanoids.

Sharp, red-tipped spines protruded from their backs and shoulders, adding to their menacing appearance.

Their faces were reptilian, with glowing yellow eyes that burned with predatory intensity, and their mouths were filled with rows of needle-sharp teeth.

Dark, almost black, armored plating covered parts of their bodies, contrasting with the smoother, almost fleshy texture of their limbs and tails.

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These tails, thick and powerful, were currently wrapped around the corpses of several powered individuals.

Malachi's gaze was drawn to the horrifyingly consistent pattern of death.

Each victim lay with their mouths agape, a faint blue light still clinging to their lips—a chilling testament to how their life force had been cruelly drained.

The creatures had used their powerful tails to restrain their victims, forcing their mouths open before absorbing the blue energy that flowed from their victims' mouths into the creatures' gaping maws.

The sheer brutality of it all solidified Malachi's decision to remain hidden, to observe from the shadows rather than risk becoming another victim.

Malachi's eyes widened in horror as chaos unfolded below, where serpentine creatures ravaged the place. "What the heck?" he mouthed, frozen by the scene.

Three figures engaged the beasts fiercely.

Amidst the chaos, a man in a tattered purple suit and matching durag deftly wrestled with one of the serpentine creatures.

His arm and cheek, stripped to raw muscle, flexed with intensity as he fought, his movements a determined blend of desperation and skill.

Nearby, in a blur of motion, a man with wool-like hair whirling around him dodged the creatures' attacks with impossible speed.

His eyes glowed a fierce yellow, unleashing beams of light that seared through the hordes.

Each blast erupted in a spray of thick, black blood, splattering across the chaos, as the creatures convulsed and fell.

Then, in a breathtaking instant, twin laser blasts erupted from his eyes, a searing white light that obliterated a portion of the creatures.

The man in the blue suit launched into the air, his almond-shaped eyes and high cheekbones sharp against his rich mahogany skin.

Small explosions burst from his hands as he spun, delivering rapid, bullet-sized blasts to the horde below in a dazzling, controlled chaos.

Though they seemed new to their powers, their efforts became increasingly effective, hinting that they might just manage to hold their own amid the turmoil.

As Malachi turned back to the group, his eyes remained fixed on the ground, hands buried in his pockets.

An older man squinted, recognition lighting his face. "Enoch's son, right?" he ventured, curiosity in his voice.

Bianca quickly intervened. "Not now, sir," she said, her tone soft but firm. She fixed her gaze on Malachi. "Are you okay?" she asked, concern clear in her eyes.

Malachi glanced at her, an exasperated sigh escaping his lips.

"Yeah I'm not sticking around for this," he said, shaking his head slightly. He turned on his heel, moving away from the tension and leaving the questions hanging in the air.

**The Choice**

As Malachi turned to leave, Bianca instinctively grabbed his hand.

He paused, surprised by the unexpected touch. Realizing what she'd done, Bianca quickly let go, her face a mix of fluster and apology.

Noah, watching nearby, raised an eyebrow, sensing there was more beneath the surface.

Seizing the moment, Bianca spoke up, urgency creeping into her tone. "Malachi, you can't just bail on us like this.

Do you know how long we've been waiting for you to wake up? With Deon and Miguel gone, you're our best shot."

Malachi let out a sarcastic chuckle. "Oh sure, and I'm supposed to save the world on my own?"

Bianca stood firm, her voice steady but edged with frustration.

"With your last name being Shaka , from one of the Big Three clans, you should be more than capable." Her eyes narrowed, holding his gaze with unwavering determination.

"You have to fight, Malachi. Save those people out there. I might only see their outlines, but these creatures are terrifying, and we need you."

Their exchange grew heated, Malachi insisting on leaving, dismissing the peril below.

In contrast, Bianca remained adamant, her determination unshaken. She let out a sigh, disappointment threading through her words.

"You always talked about making your own path and standing out on your own. What happened to that fire?"

Malachi met her gaze, momentarily torn. Not wanting Bianca to see him falter, he put on a brave face.

"Okay, fine," he said with feigned enthusiasm.

"I'll do it, happy now?" Inside, a storm brewed as he battled between playing it safe and finding the courage to step up.

A childhood memory surfaced: in kindergarten, a group of girls had picked on him for being quiet, pushing him further into his shell.

Bianca had stepped in, fiercely defending him, and from that day, they became best friends. That bond now reminded him of his values and the person he wanted to become.

Then Noah, the guy with the curly hair, stepped in, all serious. "I've got your back," he said, locking eyes with Malachi.

An older man nearby let out a hearty laugh.

"Oh, the things you youngsters see these days," he said, patting Malachi on the shoulder condescendingly.

"Must be something in the water... or maybe it's just the lack of common sense."

Malachi shook his head, a touch annoyed by how commonplace and dismissive regular people could be.

It was in that moment of irritation and clarity that he realized Bianca was half-awakened, a truth that somehow had eluded him until now.

He decided to keep this revelation to himself for the time being.

Turning to the curly-haired guy, he nodded and said, "Let's go."

Malachi turned to Bianca, handing her his phone.

"B, stay here and try to call my family," he instructed, his eyes lingering on her, captivated by her beauty even in this moment of urgency. "Here's my password."

She accepted the phone, her expression a mix of worry and reluctance.

"Why not call the cops or the JDF?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, eyes wide with concern.

"They'd have been here already if it was that simple," he replied, urgency creeping into his voice. He turned and nodded at the curly-haired dude.

With a deep breath, Malachi leaped over the railing, channeling his karmic energy to supercharge his body.

The sensation was electric, a rush of warmth and strength flooding through him, heightening his senses.

He landed hard, cracking the ground beneath his feet, the impact reverberating through his bones.

The monsters roared in response, their guttural growls vibrating through the air.

Noah followed, landing beside Malachi. "Watch out!" he warned as a monster lunged at Malachi.

As the creature lunged at Malachi, a guy in a shredded purple outfit suddenly appeared from the side, delivering a punch that knocked its jaw clean off.

He looked at Malachi and Noah, a mix of surprise and relief on his face.

"Damn, you guys are still alive!" he exclaimed.

Malachi stared.

The young man's arms were a terrifying display of raw power: bone and tightly packed muscle fiber, the skin stretched so thin it was almost translucent, revealing the intricate network of Bundled of muscles packed together.

Wickedly sharp claws, bone-like fingernails extended into vicious points, tipped each finger. The forearm that had borne the brunt of the creature's bite remained utterly still,

not a tremor betraying the immense force absorbed.

His blood-streaked face held a tired, unfocused stare, a simmering fury barely masked by bone-deep weariness.

The dude with the yellow eyes and the guy in the blue suit were blasting their way through the horde when Noah yelled, "Yo, they just keep coming!" Amidst the chaos, Malachi shouted, "Focus on saving the people!"

The guy in the durag turned to him and asked, "What about you?"

Malachi clenched his fist, feeling a surge of power flow from deep within him, as if every emotion and ounce of determination was being channeled into something tangible.

the karmic energy surged through him, a colossal blue blade materialized on his backhand, its length mirroring a broadsword.

He took a deep breath, confidence spreading through him. "Me?" he said with a grin. "I'm gonna play my part."

To be continued…