A Predator Demands

"Tch… a bunch of silver-ranked trash."

Dawn stood motionless. The sky above him was a swirling abyss of darkness, the starlight barely cutting through the storm clouds. A hail of arrows descended, their sharp tips gleaming like falling stars, but his expression remained indifferent.

Then, his ocean-blue eyes flickered—two smoldering embers igniting into crimson suns.

A sharp sizzle cut through the night.

A single, pulsating red beam flashed.

Before the attackers could even react, their bodies were split cleanly in two. A heartbeat later—boom!—they burst into particles of light, fading into nothingness.

The arrows continued their descent, yet they might as well have been autumn leaves drifting against an immovable wall. Each one crumbled upon contact, falling uselessly at Dawn's feet.

The scattered onlookers gasped, their voices a mix of awe and horror.

"He really did it…" one whispered.