The forest around the temple was deathly quiet. Not peaceful—just waiting for something to snap. Benji stood at the edge of the courtyard, his fists clenched tight, muscles taut as tension simmered under his skin. His mind was elsewhere, replaying the Sensei's teachings over and over.
"We protect life," Sensei always said. "No matter what. We fight to preserve, not destroy."
Benji had bought into it for as long as he could remember. Mercy. Restraint. Control. But some nights, like tonight, he questioned it. What good was mercy in a world full of killers?
His power crackled under the surface, always there, always pulsing. His fingers twitched as sparks of blue energy flickered between them, ready to be unleashed. He could feel the raw, dangerous power that could level mountains if he let it. And still, Sensei held them back.
"Hey." Mira's voice broke through his thoughts. She stood next to him, her dark hair lifting in the breeze, her expression sharp and knowing. "You're thinking too much again."
Benji exhaled sharply, shaking off the tension. "I'm fine."
"No, you're not. You've been on edge for weeks. What's going on?"
Benji didn't answer. How could he explain the storm brewing inside him? The doubt that gnawed at him? Instead, he looked away, his voice tight. "Do you ever wonder if Sensei's wrong? If all this—holding back—is making us weak?"
Mira raised an eyebrow. "Sensei's way works. We're alive because of him."
Alive. But for how long? The world didn't care about mercy, and Benji knew it. His eyes scanned the courtyard, where the temple loomed in the distance. It had been their home, their sanctuary, ever since Sensei had taken them in as kids. He had taught them how to fight, how to control their powers—but never to kill.
It gnawed at him. The world wasn't as merciful as Sensei wanted them to be.
Before Mira could respond, a subtle shift in the air made Benji's senses sharpen. His power surged, instinctively responding to the danger. A sound—a faint rustle of leaves, barely audible, but out of place.
"Shit," Benji muttered, his muscles tensing. "Mira, get Daichi. Now."
Mira didn't hesitate, vanishing into a gust of wind—her power. Speed, quick as a gale. Benji stayed behind, his hands crackling with energy, ready for whatever was coming.
The shadows moved.
Figures emerged from the trees, cloaked in darkness, their forms shifting and shimmering as if they were part of the night itself. Assassins. But not just any assassins. They moved too fluidly, their presence too heavy. These weren't ordinary killers. The way their powers distorted the air around them—it was wrong. Twisted.
Benji blinked toward the closest figure, vanishing in a puff of black and violet smoke, reappearing behind them just as they struck. His hand shot out, releasing a burst of concussive energy that sent the assassin flying through the air.
The courtyard erupted into chaos.
More figures appeared, slipping from the shadows, their powers warping reality around them. Benji could feel the tension snapping like a live wire as the other students poured into the courtyard, their powers blazing. Mira reappeared in a blur, followed by Daichi, whose hands shimmered with liquid metal, molding and reshaping like living armor.
The assassins came in waves.
One moved through the shadows, his form twisting into smoke, slipping around attacks like a phantom. Another raised her hands, and the air around her warped, bending space itself, distorting reality in pulses. Benji barely had time to react before she launched a spatial shockwave at him, but he blinked away just in time, reappearing behind her with a blast of raw energy that knocked her off her feet.
Daichi's liquid metal shifted into spikes, shooting toward another assassin who split into mirror images of himself, dodging the attack with ease. The courtyard was a blur of powers clashing—fire, lightning, energy blasts, and forces that bent the laws of physics themselves.
But something wasn't right.
Benji could feel it in his bones. The assassins knew too much. They moved like they had studied the temple's layout, anticipated their powers. And then he saw him—Tao.
Tao stood at the edge of the battlefield, watching. He wasn't fighting with the students. He wasn't fighting at all. He was just...observing.
"Tao!" Benji shouted, blinking toward him, fury boiling in his chest. "What the hell did you do?!"
Tao's eyes met Benji's, cold and detached. He didn't flinch. "What needed to be done."
It hit Benji like a punch to the gut. Tao—his brother, his friend—had betrayed them. He had brought the assassins here. But why?
"Tao, you sold us out for this?" Benji's voice was raw with disbelief.
"I did what Sensei was too weak to do," Tao said, his voice flat, emotionless. "You don't get it, Benji. His way—mercy, restraint—it's a death sentence. The world doesn't care about mercy. It cares about power."
Benji's fists crackled with energy, the rage building, threatening to explode. "You sold out your own family for power?"
Tao sneered. "Family? We're not family, Benji. We're pawns. Tools. Sensei used us. He made us weak."
Benji's heart pounded in his chest as the truth crashed down on him. Tao wasn't just a traitor. He was the mastermind behind all of this. The assassins, the attack—it was all him.
Before Benji could react, Tao raised his hand, a dark, crackling energy forming at his fingertips. The air around him warped, bending under the weight of his power. He unleashed a wave of darkness that tore through the courtyard, sending Benji flying backward. He hit the ground hard, the impact knocking the wind out of him.
"Tao!" Daichi's voice rang out as he charged toward their former friend, his liquid metal shifting into a massive blade. He swung with all his might, but Tao was faster. He raised his hand, and the blade stopped inches from his chest, frozen in mid-air by a telekinetic force.
"You're too weak," Tao said coldly, his power surging. He flicked his wrist, and Daichi was thrown across the courtyard, crashing into the stone wall with a sickening thud.
Benji struggled to his feet, pain radiating through his body. He couldn't let this happen. He couldn't let Tao destroy everything they had built. But Tao's power—it was unlike anything Benji had ever seen. Dark, twisted, raw.
And then Sensei appeared.
The blind old man stepped into the courtyard, his presence calm, even as the chaos raged around him. His face was lined with age and wisdom, but there was a sadness in his eyes.
"Tao," Sensei said quietly, his voice steady. "This is not who you are."
Tao laughed bitterly. "Don't you see, old man? This is exactly who I am. You taught us to hold back, to show mercy. But the world doesn't care about mercy. The strong survive. The weak die."
"There is strength in mercy," Sensei said, his voice soft but firm. "You can still choose another path."
Tao's expression hardened. "No. I've chosen my path. And I will become stronger than you ever were."
With a flick of his wrist, Tao unleashed another wave of dark energy, but this time, Sensei was ready. He moved with grace and precision, dodging the attack and closing the distance between them in an instant. He struck with the precision of a master, landing a series of blows that would have crippled any normal opponent.
But Tao wasn't normal anymore.
He caught Sensei's fist in mid-air, his power surging. "You're too late, old man."
And with that, he unleashed a devastating blast of energy that sent Sensei flying across the courtyard. Benji's heart stopped as he watched the man who had raised them, who had taught them everything, crumple to the ground, blood pooling beneath him.
"No!" Benji screamed, blinking to Sensei's side, his hands shaking as he knelt beside him.
Tao's voice was a cold whisper. "Mercy is for the weak."
Benji's world shattered. He had always believed in Sensei's teachings, in mercy, in restraint. But now, with Sensei dying in his arms, something inside him snapped.
He blinked to his feet, his power surging around him like a storm. The ground beneath him cracked, the air around him rippling with heat. He was done holding back.
"Tao," Benji growled, his voice low, dangerous. "You're going to pay for this."
And then, in a flash of black and violet smoke, the real fight began.