Signification #2

The morning mist still hung low when their footsteps reached the nearly abandoned zone. Crumbled buildings lay scattered, exuding the scent of ruin and smoldering embers. From a distance, the silhouette of a woman emerged. Her hair was like night smoke, her gown flowing yet sharp with regal authority. She looked at them with a sly, crooked smile.

"So, you've arrived," she said, as though welcoming honored guests.

Zeco narrowed his eyes, hand moving to the hilt of his katana. But before he could step forward, Hazle advanced a pace ahead, placing himself between them.

"Zeco. Charlotte. Go. Face Joker. I'll follow once I'm done with this."

"But—"

"She's mine," Hazle cut in coldly. The winds around him stirred, sharper than usual.

Zeco merely nodded, then moved on with Charlotte, leaving Hazle standing alone before Velyra.

Charlotte whistled softly. "Well, looks like we got the elegant lady earlier—and you know, Zeco, I really hope this fight doesn't ruin my shoes. They're the only ones I have that aren't torn."

Zeco glanced at her briefly. "Don't mess around, Charlotte. We don't know what's waiting ahead."

"Oh, I'm dead serious! I'm not even wearing socks in these!" she shot back, pulling her rubber slingshot from beneath her cloak. Her fingers gripped a polished, gleaming sphere—not just any stone. She called it a Candyball.

Amid the ruins, Joker stood waiting, like a host at a grim banquet. His black coat flared in the wind. A thin mask hung at the side of his face, and his sharp eyes glowed faintly red.

"Zeco," he said, voice deep but casual. "The younger brother of that self-righteous fool, huh?"

Charlotte instantly darted to the side of a crumbling wall, bounced off, and fired a shot from her slingshot. The sphere flew fast, bursting into a sticky net as it neared Joker. But he merely shifted—just enough to avoid it with a calm grace.

Zeco charged in with his katana. His body twisted, blade slicing toward Joker's chest. But the man raised one hand—and stopped the blow with just two fingers.

"Bold of you, child," Joker murmured.

Zeco pulled back, eyes blazing. "I have no choice. My brother asked me to protect him. And you, Joker… you're the reason."

The battle erupted.

Charlotte darted through the debris, firing her specialized ammo—one that made the ground slippery, another that summoned sudden fog, and one that exploded with a thunderous crack. Her slingshot wasn't a toy. It was a legacy from Robin, the trap master.

Zeco held Joker off at the front, unleashing strike after strike, his blade clashing against a force that defied reason.

"What's your goal?!" Charlotte shouted, firing a lightning pellet.

Joker chuckled. "My goal? Do you really want to know?"

He leapt atop the ruins, spun once, and unleashed a shockwave that threw Zeco and Charlotte apart.

"I want to erase this world of false heroes. And you two… you're just spectators on my stage."

Zeco stared up at him, blood dripping from his temple. Charlotte panted, one leg scraped.

Meanwhile, Hazle clashed fiercely with Velyra. Winds lashed out at her, but the woman always evaded with terrifying grace. Suddenly, amidst her swelling arrogance, Velyra blurted out, "You think this is all to stop you? This is just bait… Hiro has already been taken to the heart of Joker's plan!"

Hazle froze, breath catching. "What?!"

But Velyra realized too late that she had revealed a truth meant to remain buried.

Elsewhere…

Riding westward on horseback, I sensed something was off. The rider ahead—whom I had thought was Uncle—was a stranger. Tall back. Broad shoulders. Someone I'd never seen before.

"Uncle?" I called out. But the man didn't respond.

Isabella clutched my hand, nervous.

I stared ahead. A foreboding chill began creeping into my chest.

"You live only to escape reality…" he whispered, voice low. "What's the point, coward? Aren't you supposed to prove something… you bastard."