📖 BLACK AURA
Chapter 3: The Message in the Mist
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The wind whispered cold over the midnight rooftop. Alone in the dark, CrashGamer sat with knees tucked to his chest, his hoodie fluttering against the breeze. His notebook lay open on his lap — its inked pages still fresh from the night before.
“Reality Combo – Alley Style.”
His fingers brushed the edge of the paper, where a darkened spot marked the place his aura had flickered — though he didn’t yet know to call it that.
> “I still feel it… the heat in my chest. That mist.”
“Was that even real?”
The air around him felt heavier. As if unseen eyes were watching.
He glanced around the rooftop, but nothing stirred — only the city lights blinking in the distance.
---
Elsewhere, Ali sat alone in a cold, steel-furnished apartment. The kind of place built for surveillance, not comfort. A flickering bulb above cast long shadows over scattered files and worn folders.
On the screen before him, footage from a hidden alley camera played in silence.
He watched it again. Zoomed in on the precise moment Crash had used his drawn technique.
There it was — unmistakable. A faint black shimmer, like heat distortion, blooming from Crash’s palm.
> “No weapon. No aura training. Still cracked the air.”
“Coincidence… or curse?”
He placed the tablet down beside a sealed envelope.
Staring back at him:
“Operation Reaper: Arrowhead’s Missing Weapon”
Ali’s eyes narrowed.
> “Black Aura… Impossible.”
---
The next morning, Crash found a note wedged into the cracks of his front door.
The paper was folded precisely. Almost military.
> “You did well yesterday. But they’ll come again.
You need to train.
Rooftop. Tonight. Midnight. — A”
He stared at the words.
> “Train? Me?”
He remembered the alley fight — the attacker rushing him, the move from his notebook saving his life.
> “I wasn’t a fighter… but now?”
“I might have to become one.”
---
Far from the city, in a hidden underground chamber, shadows gathered.
The walls pulsed with quiet power. At the center, a round table of obsidian. Behind it, three figures stood in silence, facing a screen.
On the screen: Badshah’s face. Cold, unreadable.
> “Ali is alive,” he said flatly.
“And he’s mentoring a variable.”
“Send a General. No more games.”
One of the cloaked figures stepped forward. His cloak bore scarlet lines that shimmered unnaturally. Eyes glowed faint crimson behind a silver mask.
> “I’ve waited long enough,” he said, voice like metal.
“Let me remind him what fear looks like.”
His name was Ravik.
General. Executioner.
And above all — loyal to Arrowhead.
---
Midnight returned.
Crash stood once again on the rooftop where it had all begun.
Ali waited there, arms folded, moonlight catching the white of his shirt.
> “Show me your notebook,” Ali said.
Crash handed it over hesitantly. Ali flipped through the pages — slowly, methodically. His expression unreadable.
> “He doesn’t even know what he’s doing…”
“…and yet, he’s building a fighting manual.”
> “We’re training differently,” Ali said, handing it back.
“I’ll attack. You defend — using what you’ve written. Understood?”
Crash blinked.
> “Wait… What?”
Before he could protest, Ali threw a soft jab toward his face. Crash barely dodged.
> “What the hell—!?”
---
They trained.
Ali’s attacks were slow at first — a jab here, a feint there. Crash moved based on instinct, on memory. But his reflexes lagged.
Ali faked left. Crash moved too late.
Ali swept his leg. Crash hit the concrete with a thud.
> “I know what to do… but my body isn’t fast enough.”
He flipped open his notebook. Found a page:
> “Counter Block #2 – Drop Arm + Twist”
As Ali struck again — he followed the pattern.
Step. Drop arm. Twist.
Perfect block.
Ali stepped back, brow raised slightly.
> “You don’t have raw talent,” he said.
“But you have repeatable perfection.”
“And that’s dangerous… in the right hands.”
Crash’s heart skipped.
> “Dangerous?”
“Is that… a compliment?”
And then — under his foot, for just a second — a flicker of black mist.
Ali saw it.
> “Again…”
“It’s growing.”
---
Suddenly, something shifted.
A crash. Metal tearing.
A dark shadow landed with a thud on the opposite rooftop.
A tall man stepped into view — silver mask, glowing red eyes, black coat swirling.
Ali’s stance hardened.
> “Ali,” the figure called out.
“Badshah sends his greetings.”
“You were warned.”
Ali’s voice dropped.
> “Crash. Stay back.”
But Crash was already flipping through pages.
---
Ravik leapt forward — blades of aura materializing from his arms, slicing through air.
Ali ducked, spun, countered — landed a punch to Ravik’s ribs.
The aura around the General’s body shimmered — Ali’s hand recoiled, burned.
> “Aura shield. He’s full-blooded. Damn.”
Crash watched in frozen awe. The fight wasn’t a game. It was lethal. Beautiful.
He saw Ravik’s next move — a downward arc, fast and final.
Crash didn’t think.
He moved.
He flipped to a page:
> “Aura Blade Deflect – Ledge Assist”
He sprinted in, sliding under Ravik’s leg, knocking him off balance.
Ali struck — a clean elbow to the face, followed by a slam to the rooftop tiles.
And in that moment — it happened again.
Black mist erupted from Crash’s arm. This time not a flicker — but a wave.
Everyone stopped.
Even the General.
---
Ravik’s voice cracked.
> “T-That… that wasn’t possible…”
He turned to Crash, backing away.
> “The Black Aura… was destroyed years ago…”
Ali looked at Crash.
For the first time — fear touched even his eyes.
> “He doesn’t know what he is…”
“…and that’s exactly why they’ll come for him.”
Ravik staggered back.
> “If he lives… Arrowhead falls.”
And then — he vanished.
Gone in a flash of light.
---
Crash collapsed to one knee, chest heaving, hand still steaming with black vapor.
He stared at it — trembling.
> “What’s happening to me…?”
Ali stepped closer, silent.
Then — he finally spoke.
> “You just became the most wanted boy in the world.”
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🖤 END OF CHAPTER 3: The Message in the Mist 🖤
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Next Chapter Preview:
> “The General’s Report” – Ravik returns to Arrowhead, and the true origin of the Black Aura begins to unfold…
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