Shiro stood before Keith, a dark smile playing on his lips, his presence unnerving. "Why the long face?" he asked, voice dripping with mockery. "You look like you've seen a ghost. Oh wait—right, you have." He chuckled coldly.
Keith, trying to steady himself, clenched his fists and stood tall. "I'm not afraid of you anymore, Shiro."
Shiro's eyes gleamed with amusement as he scanned Keith's tense posture. "Oh? From the way you're shaking, I'd say otherwise." He took a slow, menacing step forward. "So, what do I want? It's simple. I've come back for Arcadia Industries. But first…" He paused, letting his words linger in the air like poison. "I need to put you back in your place. Just like I did to your little whore".
Keith's heart pounded, and rage flashed across his face. "You'd better not have laid a hand on Reana!" His voice cracked with fury.
"Who, Finir?" Shiro raised an eyebrow, smirking with cruel delight. "Oh, that bitch had it coming. You should've seen her face." He laughed—a cold, malicious sound that echoed in Keith's mind.
That was it. Keith snapped. His eyes blazed gold as he charged forward, fists clenched with righteous anger. "You bastard!" he shouted, launching a punch at Shiro with all his might. The force of the blow sent a shockwave that shattered the glass of the nearby buildings.
But the punch stopped, dead still, inches from Shiro's chest. It was as if an invisible barrier held Keith's hand in place.
Shiro's grin widened, his eyes glowing a menacing purple-blue hue. "Ah, yes," he said with twisted excitement, "it's been a while since I've beaten you senseless, hasn't it, little brother?" His voice dropped, dripping with malevolent satisfaction. "This is going to be a real refresher."
Keith, stunned, tried again—his fist flying at Shiro's face, but the blow had no effect. His confusion deepened as Shiro effortlessly caught his hand, pulling him close. Before Keith could react, Shiro's grip tightened on his face. In a single swift motion, Shiro turned and slammed Keith's head into the concrete.
Keith's vision blurred, but he fought to regain his footing, shaking off the dizziness. He threw another punch, gritting his teeth in defiance. But Shiro dodged effortlessly, stepping to the side and countering with a brutal punch to Keith's chest. The impact sent Keith flying, his body crashing into a row of parked cars with a thunderous impact.
Keith lay in the rubble, the world spinning around him. Through the haze, he could barely make out Shiro's figure—still a mile away. Or so he thought.
In an instant, to his shock, Shiro was standing right in front of him. Keith's heart raced. How is he so fast?
Desperation kicked in. Keith bolted to his feet and charged once more, eyes glowing with determination. But Shiro was ready. With a swift motion, he tripped Keith, sending him tumbling. Before Keith could recover, Shiro grabbed him by the head and, with terrifying strength, slammed his skull into the hood of a nearby car.
Keith groaned, his head pounding. Then it hit him—Shiro had been teleporting. Confirming his worst suspicion, Shiro disappeared again, dragging Keith with him. He slammed Keith into a brick wall with force that shattered the stone, then teleported again—this time smashing Keith through a car window.
The relentless assault continued. Shiro teleported once more, hurling Keith through the air, straight into the side of a building. The concrete cracked as Keith's body collided with it, and Shiro didn't stop. He dragged Keith through the crumbling wall, pulling him along with destructive force, before tossing him aside like a rag doll at the far end of the wreckage.
Keith's body hit the ground with a sickening thud, the pain coursing through him as he lay there, dazed and broken. Shiro stood tall, looking down on him with cold, calculating eyes.