Chapter 68: Operation Blackbeard

Sometimes, the most dangerous hunt isn’t for the monster hiding in the dark, but for the truths it has buried beneath its shadow.
Time—the silent accomplice of every mistake—does not forgive those who seek justice without understanding its price. For there is no clean victory when the enemy is not just a face… but a shared past.
Names fade. Reasons rot. And what was once a noble cause can end up as nothing more than an excuse to keep fighting.
Yet even among the rubble of rage, there are choices that define who we are. Some fight out of duty, others for revenge. Some seek to protect… others only wish to destroy.
And among them, there are those who can no longer remember why they began.
Today is not just an operation. It is the echo of an ancient story, a warning disguised as an opportunity. Because catching a ghost does not depend on strength… but on being willing to look it in the eyes, and accept what it reflects.
The problem is that sometimes, the reflection staring back… is our own.

——————————————————————————————————————————

The night was thick—so dense it felt as though the air itself was holding its breath.
Several hooded figures surrounded an old warehouse on the outskirts of the city, hidden among the shadows like specters about to reveal themselves.
Alexbold stood at the front, gaze steady, breathing controlled.

“After all these months… we finally have him cornered. Tonight you fall, Blackbeard,” he thought, as a current of tension ran through his body like electricity.

Without a single verbal command, the hooded agents moved in unison. They slipped in through the flanks, sealing every exit with surgical precision. When Alexbold finally stepped through the warehouse entrance, the air grew heavy—thick as tar.

“Freeze, Blackbeard!” he shouted, his firm voice slicing through the silence.

But the only response was the echo of his own command bouncing off the metal walls.
The interior was completely empty. Only a single crate rested in the center of the vast room—a silent mockery.

“This is impossible,” he thought as he approached cautiously. “We’ve been watching the place all day. No one’s left. His energy is still here. How can this be?”

Behind him, Rukia rushed in.
“Alexbold, we’re not getting any signal from Group B.”
“How long?”
“I can’t say for sure, but… it looks like their line’s been down for a while.”

Alexbold’s jaw tightened.
“Damn it…”

At that very moment, a hand emerged from the darkness—tearing through the air as if ripping space itself apart.
“Watch out!” Iseli shouted.

There was no time to react.
A brutal explosion shook the entire building. The roof burst upward into a thousand shards as a tongue of fire devoured every corner. The air burned. The ground quaked. The entire operation fell into chaos.

And then—the memory struck. Sudden. Violent. Like a blow straight to the mind.

Flashback

The bodies of Alexbold and Edén clashed again and again across the training field—strikes, dodges, blocks. The exchange was fierce, but there was something more beneath it: respect, curiosity… tension.
Edén threw a straight punch toward Alexbold’s face, which he barely managed to block in time. Even so, the impact made his forearms tremble.
“How the hell did he improve this much in just a few weeks?” Alexbold thought, stepping back half a pace. “Although he’s still not…”

The next blow forced him to reconsider that thought. It pushed him to the limit—not through sheer strength, but through the energy vibrating behind it.
“Whoa, whoa… are you serious right now?” he muttered, looking at his reddened, numb arms.

With a growl, he released a surge of crimson energy. Multiple blood tentacles burst from his back, writhing like living whips.
“I hope you’re not holding back, Edén.”

A dense darkness spilled from the other boy’s body, as if everything he had suppressed was about to erupt.

From a distance, Lux watched in fascination.
“They’re both incredible. I can’t tell who’s going to win…”
“Do you really think that?” Eris said, her eyes never leaving the fight.
“What do you mean?”
“Alexbold’s holding back.”
Yohei, who had been silent until then, crossed his arms.
“They both are… but in different ways. Alexbold does it by choice. Edén, on the other hand… does it without realizing it.”

Before the fight could escalate further, Rukia burst in.
“Stop!”

Both combatants halted immediately. Their energies dissipated like steam under rain.
“What is it?” Alexbold asked, slightly irritated by the interruption.
“It’s the captain. He wants to speak with you.”
“Tch… perfect timing,” he grumbled, then turned to Edén. “Sorry. We’ll have to postpone our match.”
“Don’t worry,” Edén replied with a faint smile. “I’ll be looking forward to it.”

Alexbold turned to Rukia.
“Take care of the rest.”
“Understood.”

Moments later, Alexbold approached an Aether Mirror floating in a nearby room. The figure of Shun materialized with the clarity of a memory that refused to fade.
“It’s been a while, Alexbold. Aren’t you happy to see me?”
“No,” he replied bluntly. “Whenever you call, it’s never good news.”
“Is that really the image you have of me? I’ve done a terrible job marketing myself…”
“What is it?”
“The time has come. It’s the beginning of Operation Blackbeard.”

Alexbold straightened.
“Today?”
“Yes. Juana and Tiresias have already made the preparations. Reinforcements are on their way. It’s only a matter of time before we catch him.”
“Understood.”
“But don’t get overconfident. That man isn’t like the others.”
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t you find it strange he’s been escaping for more than fifteen years?”
“He’s strong, sure… but I don’t think there’s anything else to worry about.”

Shun didn’t reply right away. He just looked at him with an expression caught between doubt and unease.
“Maybe you’re underestimating more than you think. There are too many things that don’t add up.”
“Don’t you think you’re overthinking this?”
“Maybe,” Shun repeated. “Well… I’ll leave the rest in your hands, Alexbold.”
“Understood. I’ll do my best.”
“Until next time.”

The image faded in a faint glow, leaving Alexbold alone with his thoughts… and the echo of what was about to come.

The call cut off, and the bar’s silence fell back over the room like a slab. Shun remained seated, back straight, fingers tracing the wrinkled edges of a sheet of paper he hadn’t stopped staring at for minutes.
“What’s wrong?” a voice across from him asked, breaking the low murmur of the room. “This is the first time I’ve seen you this worried. Are you afraid of Blackbeard?”

Shun lifted his gaze for only a second. There was no anxiety on his face—only a slight, crooked smile, small and almost imperceptible.
“No,” he replied calmly. “On the contrary… I’m excited.”

He took the coffee cup with one hand and finished the last sip as if it were a silent ritual. Then he rose, moving slowly, as if in no hurry.
“Where are you going?” his interlocutor pressed.
“I’m going to finish Blackbeard with my own hands.”
“Huh?” the man frowned, confused. “What do you mean? Aren’t they going to catch him today?”

Shun left some coins on the table, pivoted on his heels, and started to walk away without looking back.
“Who knows. I hope we see each other again. Goodbye.”

The other man sat frozen, unable to respond. He only watched him go, thinking: What are you planning, Shun…?

Shun walked through the bar’s dim lights, his gaze still fixed on his thoughts.
“Why Blackbeard? And what connection does he have to those kids…? What are those damned elders hiding?” he mulled as his fingers returned to the paper.

There, on the burned and crumpled sheet, several black-and-white images were lined up. They were childhood portraits accompanied by codes, dates, and strange symbols. No explanation. Just a set of lives cut short or at risk—lost in time… and in silence.

Return to the present

The heat was unbearable. Flames crackled everywhere, and the air was thick with smoke and ash. Amid the devastation, Alexbold lay on the ground, his body lacerated and his mind still spinning.
“What the hell… happened?” he muttered, shaking his head.

His eyes searched desperately through the rubble…and stopped at a figure lying motionless.
“Iseli!” he shouted, crawling to her.

He scooped her into his arms in desperation. Her body was wounded, covered in burns and deep cuts. She was barely breathing.
Alexbold gritted his teeth. The pain in his chest outweighed the physical agony. And then he heard another voice.
“A-Alexbold…”

Rukia stood barely upright, staggering, unrecognizable. She was missing an arm, and half her face had been consumed by fire.
“I’m glad… that you’re alive,” she whispered.

Then she fell. Limp. Like a withered flower on the edge of winter.
A tearing void opened inside Alexbold. The weight of guilt sank him. He looked around: charred soldiers, comrades reduced to ash.
“I… failed. I failed them again. I… I’m worthless,” he said in a broken voice.

And then he felt it. A piercing gaze. Cold. A burly man watched him from among the burning wreckage.
“I’m sorry…” Blackbeard murmured. A single tear rolled down his stone-like face.

“Blackbeard! I’ll kill you!” Alexbold roared, and a storm of energy erupted from his body.
Blood tentacles surged with monstrous force—twice as large, twice as violent. They lashed toward Blackbeard like furious whips. But Blackbeard didn’t flinch.

With a single raised palm, the tentacles halted…and began to be absorbed slowly, dissolving as if into dust.
“What…?!” Alexbold screamed, incredulous.
“No matter what you do. You cannot hurt me.”
“Shut your mouth, bastard! I’ll make you pay for everything!”

One of Blackbeard’s eyes shifted. It turned crimson, as if revealing a hidden aspect of his true power.
“You leave me no choice.”

In the distance, a group of GODS students rushed in at full speed. The air smelled of blood, ash, and tragedy.
“What the hell happened here…?” Shu said, frozen by the chaos before him.

Edén saw him first.
“Alexbold!”

The young man was in ruins—covered in wounds and barely held up by a single blood tentacle. Blackbeard gave him one last look.
“Something tells me we’ll meet again. Farewell.”

Then he vanished, sinking into the earth as if swallowed by the ground itself.
“Don’t run, you bastard! You have to pay! Damn you!” Alexbold screamed, utterly unhinged.

A dark, malignant aura enveloped him. His energy became unstable—a whirl of pain and rage.
“He’s out of control…” Yohei said. “There’s no way to stop him peacefully.”
“Do we kill him?” Zef suggested.

They all stared at Zef in disbelief.
“Idiot,” Yohei growled. “Just knock him out.”
“Do we really have to fight him?” Lux asked, nervous.
“It looks like there’s no other choice,” Yuki said seriously.

A dark light emerged from Edén. His resolve was clear.
“I’ll stop him. You rescue Rukia and Iseli.”
“What are you trying to do? Play the hero?” Yohei demanded.
“Shut up. Just do it.”

Lowa let out a light laugh, but said nothing.
“Calm down. I got this,” a familiar voice said.

“Pink hair…?” Edén whispered, surprised.
“Was that the first thing you thought of?” Shun replied with a faint smile.
“No doubt… it’s him,” Yohei thought. “The strongest man of them all.”

Shun narrowed his eyes; his expression shifted into that of a strategist.
“Looks like I wasn’t wrong. He was already expecting our arrival. But… an explosion? Why draw so much attention? What are you up to, Blackbeard?” he pondered. “Bah… it doesn’t matter. I need to stop this now.”

He moved without warning.
“Alexbold… forgive me.”

In the blink of an eye, Shun struck him. Alexbold fell unconscious without making a sound.
“What…?” Yohei thought. “I couldn’t sense him… didn’t even see him move. How is that possible?”

“Edén, take care of the rest,” Shun ordered, giving no time for hesitation.
“Y-Yes,” Edén answered at once.

Together with the others, they lifted the battered bodies of Rukia, Iseli, and Alexbold himself.
Shun stood in the center of the destruction like a sentinel. His eyes dropped to the ground. Among the ashes and dust, something crackled under his foot: a paper scorched by fire.

He picked it up carefully.
“This is…”