Attack

The flick of his fingers sent the coin tumbling skyward, spinning like a tiny, golden sun. Its gleaming surface caught the endless light of the battlefield, twisting and shifting as if reflecting not just the present—but the future itself.

Dawn's gaze remained locked on its flight, his breath steady, his mind razor-sharp.

No vague questions this time.

This battlefield was a crucible of blood and steel, where titans clashed and legends crumbled into dust. There had to be someone here capable of ending his life. But vague inquiries would get him nowhere.

His lips parted.

"Can someone from the Flowing Swamp organization threaten my life?"

As though the question itself demanded a price, a sharp sting ran through his body, sapping his energy like an invisible toll. Dawn clenched his jaw, enduring the phantom pain with a grimace.

The coin spun faster, humming with a silent, cosmic resonance, warping the very air around it. Then, abruptly—