Battle to Shatter

The air was heavy.

No, not air—space itself.

Arka stood frozen in the abyss, his breathing uneven. His eyes widened, his fists clenched, his thoughts tangled in a web of confusion and disbelief.

The void around him seemed endless, yet suffocating. There was no sound, no gravity—nothing except himself.

And the thing in front of him.

His lips parted, but the words refused to come out.

What… what the hell am I looking at?

The formless mass shimmered like a liquid shadow, pulsing as if it were alive. It had no clear shape, no clear identity—just an overwhelming presence.

His heart pounded against his ribs. He felt something stir deep within him. Something primal.

And then—

"OI!"

A voice snapped through the silence like a gunshot.

Arka blinked.

The void shattered like broken glass, and in an instant, he was back in the real world—back in his office, Zain standing in front of him, arms crossed, an eyebrow raised in amusement.

"What the hell was that?" Arka muttered under his breath.

Zain smirked. "No clue. But damn, that was one hell of a spaced-out moment."

Arka clenched his jaw. He was still struggling to process what had just happened, but he pushed it aside. He couldn't afford to lose focus—not now.

Something about that… vision—it wasn't just his imagination.

He felt something shift inside him.

But there was no time to dwell on it. Because the moment he snapped back to reality, his instincts screamed a warning.

A presence.

A threat.

Zain sensed it too. His smirk vanished, replaced by a sharp, calculating expression.

A chill crawled down Arka's spine. He turned his head, eyes narrowing as he focused on the door.

Then—

BOOM!

The entire wall exploded.

Debris scattered, smoke filled the air, and before either of them could react—

A figure emerged from the dust.

A tall, imposing man dressed in a pitch-black trench coat, his face obscured by a metallic mask. His presence alone was suffocating, exuding an aura of absolute domination.

Zain's eyes flickered with recognition. "Shit."

Arka didn't even need to ask. He already knew.

This was one of them.

One of the Heavenly Demons.

The government's elite assassins, created specifically to hunt down the Ātmans.

The man stepped forward, his heavy boots crushing the remains of the shattered wall beneath him. He spoke, his voice mechanical and distorted through his mask.

"Target located. Commencing elimination."

Before either of them could move—

He vanished.

Then reappeared right in front of them.

Arka barely had time to react before a fist slammed into his gut with enough force to send him flying through his desk.

The impact rattled his entire body, knocking the air out of his lungs. He coughed violently, his vision blurring from the sheer force.

Zain, however, had already moved.

He spun, launching a kick toward the masked man's ribs. But before it could land—

The man caught his leg mid-air.

Then, without hesitation—he twisted.

Zain's body was thrown like a ragdoll, crashing through the bookshelves.

Arka groaned, forcing himself up. His entire body felt like it had been hit by a truck. But there was no time to complain.

The assassin wasn't waiting.

The man raised his hand, his fingers crackling with energy—a deep crimson glow radiating from his palm.

He fired.

A concentrated blast shot toward Arka.

His instincts screamed at him to dodge, but his body was still sluggish.

Move, move, MOVE!

And then—something happened.

Something instinctual.

Without thinking, Arka raised his hand.

And the energy blast—stopped.

It didn't hit him.

It didn't explode.

Instead, it froze mid-air, as if caught in some invisible grip.

Arka's breath hitched. He wasn't touching it—he wasn't doing anything.

And yet, he could feel it.

The raw, unstable energy in the air—flowing around him, through him.

It felt… natural.

Like it had always been a part of him.

A memory surfaced. Zain's words.

"The Ātmans weren't just chosen. They were created."

And now, he understood.

The energy—the power.

It was his.

Something deep inside him awakened.

The frozen energy blast trembled, then—

It reversed.

Arka clenched his fist. The energy compressed in mid-air, then launched back at the assassin twice as fast.

The man barely dodged. The blast grazed his shoulder, cutting through his coat like a blade.

For the first time, the assassin hesitated.

Arka looked down at his own hands. His fingers crackled with faint traces of the same energy.

So this is what it means to be an Ātman.

He exhaled slowly, his lips curling into a smirk.

Zain, who had recovered from the impact, chuckled from the side. "Heh. Took you long enough."

Arka rolled his shoulders, his body still aching but his confidence rising.

The assassin tilted his head slightly. "You've awakened. Expected. But insufficient."

Then—he charged.

The fight truly began.

The assassin's movements were almost inhuman—blurring between speeds that defied logic. But now, Arka could keep up.

Fists clashed.

Energy crackled.

Every strike sent shockwaves through the ruined office, shattering what little remained intact.

The assassin's combat style was brutal—a perfect blend of martial arts and energy manipulation.

But Arka was adapting.

He wove through the attacks, dodging, countering—every movement sharpening with instinctual precision.

And then—he struck back.

With his newly awakened energy, he shaped it into a blade. A sleek, glowing dagger of pure energy formed in his hand, humming with raw power.

He lunged.

The blade met flesh.

A deep gash tore through the assassin's chest.

For the first time—he staggered.

Zain took the opening.

He unleashed a massive energy blast at point-blank range.

The explosion engulfed the assassin, swallowing him in a fiery storm.

The building shook.

The dust settled.

Silence.

Arka panted, his entire body screaming in pain. But his smirk remained.

"Not bad," he muttered.

Zain wiped a bit of blood from his lip. "Yeah, well. That was just one of them."

Arka's smirk faded slightly.

Right.

The Heavenly Demons weren't a single person.

There were many more.

And this was only the beginning.

The dust from the explosion had barely settled when Arka felt it—a shift in the air.

Not one. Not two.

Many.

Zain cursed under his breath. "Tch. Here they come."

The shadows moved.

One after another, figures emerged from the darkness. Five. Ten. Fifteen. Twenty.

They stood like specters, clad in black, their masked faces devoid of emotion. Each one radiated an aura of overwhelming power, a killing intent so thick it could suffocate the weak-willed.

But it was the one who stood at the front that caught Arka's attention.

She wasn't like the others.

A woman, clad in a tight, form-fitting bodysuit, its black fabric hugging her curves like a second skin. The material shimmered under the dim light, accentuating her slender waist, her long, toned legs, and the sharp definition of her body.

Her mask was different—sleek, white, with two long, twisted horns extending backward.

She tilted her head, amusement evident in her body language.

"Well, well," her voice was silky, dripping with mockery. "That was... pathetic."

Arka's eyes narrowed.

"Twenty of you against two of us?" he muttered. "Sounds like a fair fight."

The woman laughed, placing a hand on her hip. "Oh, you're funny. I like that. But unfortunately, humor won't save you from getting erased."

Her hips swayed as she walked forward, her steps slow, deliberate.

"Zain Mark," she purred, tracing a finger along the curve of her mask. "One of the strongest Atmans. And yet, here you are, babysitting a rookie."

Zain exhaled through his nose. "And you are?"

The woman giggled, tilting her head. "Oh? You don't recognize me? I'm hurt."

She placed a hand on her chest, the tight fabric shifting subtly with her movements.

"Call me..." she tapped her chin, "...Nyx."

Arka remained still, but his mind was racing.

This woman.

Her presence alone was terrifying—not in raw strength, but in something else.

She was a predator, and she knew it.

Nyx snapped her fingers.

Instantly, the Heavenly Demons attacked.

The battleground erupted into chaos.

Arka barely dodged a blade aimed at his throat. He twisted, countered, and slashed back with his newly-formed energy weapon.

The clash of fists, energy blasts, and sheer force shook the ground beneath them.

Zain fought alongside him, but even he was getting pushed back.

Arka gritted his teeth. There's too many.

Nyx, meanwhile, was watching.

Arms crossed, legs slightly apart, her body language exuding a mix of confidence and amusement.

"Oh, my~," she mused, stretching her arms above her head—her bodysuit pressing tightly against her figure as she arched her back.

"Is this really all the mighty Atmans can do?"

She let out a mock yawn, her hips shifting slightly as she leaned to one side.

"You know," she continued, "I always thought you Atmans were legendary, but honestly?" She sighed. "Disappointing."

Zain froze.

His head turned toward her slowly.

Arka immediately sensed the change in him.

His energy spiked, but not just in power.

In rage.

Nyx smirked, not noticing—or not caring.

"Especially you, Zain," she went on, her voice laced with venom. "Luon made you, but in the end, you're nothing more than a failed experiment."

Silence.

Then—

Everything collapsed.

The entire battlefield shook violently as Zain's pressure exploded outward.

The air turned heavy— no, crushing.

Arka collapsed to one knee, struggling to breathe.

The Heavenly Demons?

Flattened to the ground.

Every single one of them, their bodies pinned down by an unbearable gravitational force.

Nyx's confident smirk finally wavered.

"Wh—"

She couldn't move.

Zain lifted his hand.

Nyx's body rose into the air, effortlessly suspended by his gravity manipulation.

Her legs twitched, her arms flailed slightly, but she couldn't escape.

Her bodysuit clung to her frame even tighter as she struggled, her curves accentuated under the force.

"Ngh—!" she gasped, her body trembling from the crushing weight pressing against her.

Zain's voice was calm, but terrifying.

"You talk too much."

Then—

He closed his fist.

And Nyx shattered.

Her body erased in an instant, reduced to nothingness.

The remaining Heavenly Demons, still struggling under the weight of his power, could only watch in horror.

Zain exhaled sharply.

And then—he moved.

No.

He didn't move.

He simply disappeared.

What followed was pure carnage.

He didn't swing his fists.

He didn't dodge.

He didn't even walk.

Zain stood in one place—but every Heavenly Demon around him shattered one by one, their bodies erased from existence.

Like they had never been there at all.

Arka, still struggling to move under the pressure, could only watch.

What the hell... is Zain?

And then—

Everything went silent.

The battlefield was empty.

Zain sighed, rolling his shoulders. "Tch. Annoying."

Arka finally caught his breath.

And for the first time—he felt it.

The true power of an Atman.

And yet—this was only the beginning.