Execution

The dust hasn't even fully cleared. Ayla stands at the rim, eyes still locked on the medics.

Suddenly—

A blur flashes. In a blink — the Mindless is behind her.

Its mouth close to her ear, voice low and chilling. Same words.

Mindless (whispering): "...Suprise, baby."

Ayla (eyes widening, gasping): "What—?"

Before she can fully react, a razor-tipped claw slices through the air, aimed straight for her face from behind. She twists at the last second, barely dodging — the claw grazing her cheek as she flips backward.

BOOM—CRACK

The missed strike shatters the ground beneath them, tearing open stone like paper.

Ayla (landing hard, breathing sharp): "That speed… that strength—" Around the crater, three Tier 4 Hunters immediately spring into action.

Hunter #4: "Engaging target! Group formation, suppressive force!"

The scene builds to a boiling point, the Tier 4s hunter closing in, weapons igniting, while Ayla regains her footing, eyes now focused, serious. The Mindless smirks.

INT. UNDISCLOSED HIGH-LEVEL STRATEGY ROOM | LOCATION: SOUTH KOREA

General Chae-won stands alone, staring at a large digital wall with energy spikes displayed across continents.

She sips tea — calm, collected — satellite alert flashes: "HIGH ENERGY SIGNATURE DETECTED – KILIMANJARO, TANZANIA."

Aide (nervous): "Another high class spike General. Stronger than Seoul. Local Hunter units engaged. No confirmed visual on source yet."

Chae-won walks closer to the screen.

EXT. CITY OUTSKIRTS – KILIMANJARO – NIGHTFALL

Sirens blare. Red lights flash across highways and rooftops. Military trucks and ambulances rush through the roads. Loudspeakers echo across the streets.

Loud speaker (on loop): "This is an official evacuation directive. Residents in sectors 4 through 9, proceed to designated shelters immediately." Civilians move fast, some in panic, others just silent, eyes turned toward the mountains in the distance. Where faint flashes of light and thunderous shockwaves still rumble.

A child clutches their parent's hand.

Child: "Mama… is it happening again?"

Mother (calm but scared): "No, baby. It's just… they're making sure we're safe."

She glances over her shoulder uneasy. The sky flickers again. A soldier stands watch, radio in hand.

Soldier (into radio): "Containment team still in combat. Mindless class unknown. Reinforcements en route. Evacuation priority confirmed."

[SFX: Another distant boom]

Dust shakes from a streetlight. The crowd moves faster.

EXT. CRATER RIDGE – CONTINUOUS

Chaos erupts.

The Mindless moves like smoke and metal, tearing through the advancing Tier 4 Hunters.

One lunges forward — sliced mid-air, body crumpling in a scream. Another charges from behind — slammed into the ground, spine cracking loud enough to echo.

A third fires a beam. The Mindless dodges and appears beside them, tearing their arm clean off. Blood splashes across the stone.

Ayla (watching, furious): "Fall back—you're just in the way."

Her fist tightens. Her boots scrape forward.

Ayla (under her breath): "Damn it... They're only slowing me down."

[SFX: Another body hits the rocks hard]

A Hunter screams.

Ayla's eyes narrow —

At the edge of the crater, medics worked frantically around Blake.

Blake lies on the ground, surrounded by medics. His shirt clings to him, soaked in sweat. His body shivers uncontrollably, like a storm is trapped inside him.

Suddenly— he stops. Perfect stillness. No tremble. No breath. His eyes half-closed. Pale. Calm. Like he's halfway gone.

Medic (shouting): "We are loosing him! I need a stabilizer—NOW!"

Somewhere deep inside, Blake's mind drifted into a place he didn't recognize.

There was no ground beneath him, no sky above—only an endless, shifting void. The air felt weightless and cold.

SILENCE.

Then --Ashes fall like rain, floating across a vast, blackened sky. The ground is cracked glass, reflecting a burning aurora above — golden, red, and pale violet. Blake stands barefoot, shirtless, untouched — yet trembling. His breath leaves trails of light.

He looks around. He is alone. But he isn't. Whispers echo in languages that don't belong to any nation. Symbols flicker through the ash. A wind pushes against him — but there's no source. In the distance: a massive throne, cracked and molten, rests on a mountain of swords and bones. Above it floats a golden crown, glowing like a sun — but not fixed. It shifts. It moves.

Blake (quietly): "…What is this?" The crown lowers slowly — toward him.

Suddenly — the vision fractures.

Back on the battlefield, the chaos raged on.

The battlefield rages with chaotic blasts — Datium surges ripple through the air, turning the sky into flashes of burning red and black. Ayla stands alone at the front, armor fractured, one arm trailing blood, but her stance never falters. Her aura still flares strong, defiant. Other Hunters retreating.

Hunter (watching from afar, grim): "If Ayla can't bring it down… this isn't a fight. It's an execution."