Facing Hurt

Carnage.

Blood soaked the earth, painting a grotesque masterpiece of slaughter. Limbs lay twisted, lifeless bodies sprawled in unnatural positions. The silence that followed was deafening.

Sketch, Gamble, Spam, and the twins stood among the aftermath, their expressions a mix of shock and grim realization. The first three knew instantly what had happened—especially since Speedy was nowhere in sight.

Sketch exhaled, scratching the back of his head. "Well… that was well deserved."

"An understatement." Gamble muttered, crossing his arms.

Spam's eyes were sharp, burning with her own sense of purpose. "She's at the village. I want in. Those filthy bastards don't deserve to live."

"Something we actually agree on." Thana snorted, hands on her hips. "But seriously, where the hell did those creepy freaks come from anyway?"

Key finally spoke, his voice measured. "That guy—he said they were here to collect 'a debt.' What kind of debt does this village owe them?"

Ravenna opened her mouth to answer, but before she could, Nythra cut in, voice taut with barely contained rage.

"I think a debt is the least of our problems, Key… he said they have others that they're—" Her fists clenched.

Key didn't hesitate. He placed a steadying hand on her shoulder, grounding her. "I understand." His voice was firm. "Let's go."

Dheerash narrowed his eyes. "Tread carefully, Key. I don't know what it is, but something feels… off about this."

Eunoia nodded in agreement.

Key's gaze didn't waver. "Will do." He glanced toward the distance. "She went this way."

And with that, he took the lead.

.

.

The village loomed ahead, its gates imposing yet fragile in the face of what was coming.

Speedy stood before them, her eyes cold, burning with raw hate. The guards on the other side hurled obscenities at her, demanding her name, her reason for being there.

She didn't answer.

A dark smirk tugged at her lips.

She took a step forward—

"Speedy!!"

She froze at the voice, barely tilting her head back.

Key.

Alone?

She wasn't surprised he had caught up. She wasn't the only one fast, after all.

He read her expression instantly. "I led them in a different direction on purpose," he explained, his voice calm. "Felt like this was something you wanted to do on your own."

He paused, taking in the sight of her—the Skinwalker leader hanging limply in her grasp, her fingers iron-clad around his skull like a discarded doll.

Damn.

That was the only word that came to his mind.

Her eyes softened slightly. Without a second thought, she tossed the leader aside.

Thud.

Key barely had time to process the moment before he felt small but powerful arms wrap around him, her grip almost suffocating.

"…Thank you… for being considerate."

It was the first time he had ever heard her sound like that.

Without hesitation, he returned the embrace, his warmth answering the silent need in her touch.

"If you don't think you can handle it, I—"

A flash.

A memory.

A younger self.

Scared. Broken. Hurt.

There was no more running away.

She slowly released him, stepping back.

"I have to do this."

Her smile was firm, unwavering—a mix of determination and gratitude.

Key studied her, searching for hesitation.

There was none.

Exhaling through his nose, he nodded. "Then I'll make sure no one gets in your way."

Her smirk returned, this time laced with something darker. "Thanks. I'll be sure to make it up to you later, Mr. Ascended."

She turned back to the gate.

Key chuckled, watching as her aura shifted. Darkened.

The men behind the gate, still spewing threats and insults, suddenly fell silent. They felt it.

The predator was watching them now.

Key stepped back, folding his arms. This was her moment.

One of the guards swallowed, gripping his weapon tightly. "Y-you! Stop right there!"

Speedy tilted her head, her smirk never fading.

"Make me."

The next moment was a blur of speed and terror.

She vanished.

Reappeared in front of the first guard.

Her fist buried into his gut.

His body bent violently, his mouth gaping in silent agony before—CRACK.

He flew backward, crashing into the wooden gate like a lifeless ragdoll.

The second guard barely had time to react.

Speedy was already behind him, her breath against his ear.

"You should've run."

His scream never came.

SNAP.

The remaining guards froze.

Panic set in.

Some turned to run.

Bad choice.

Speedy dashed forward, her foot slamming into the ground.

A gust of wind.

A flicker of motion.

And suddenly—they were gone.

Only faint blood splatters marked where they had stood.

Key let out a low whistle. "Feels good to be on the other side."

Speedy nonchalantly dusted off her hands. "Filth."

She turned her attention to the heavy gate.

The last thing those guards had done before dying was lock it.

Not that it mattered.

With a single push, the wood exploded inward, debris flying as the gates shattered open.

A hush fell over the village.

Eyes turned toward her.

Men, grinning bastards with chains in their hands.

Women—naked, bruised, broken.

Even children.

A breath.

A beat.

Then—

A visceral scream erupted from her mouth, raw and filled with years of unspoken rage.

The village was about to burn.