He Burned Coal

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"KAPOW!" "NUUURGHHHAHHH!" Ahmali's battle cry ripped through the air as her nunchucks smashed down onto the glass table

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"KAPOW!" "NUUURGHHHAHHH!" Ahmali's battle cry ripped through the air as her nunchucks smashed down onto the glass table. The impact sent shards flying, scattering her reflection into a thousand jagged pieces. With swift precision, she planted her hands on the bare stools, flipping her body in a graceful 90° arc. Her legs descended like a guillotine, cutting through the air and slamming into the owner’s skull with brutal force.

The owner’s face plowed into the shattered glass, sharp fragments slicing into her skin like knives carving through delicate flesh, leaving her features mangled and unrecognisable. A pitiful whimper escaped the woman’s lips, but Ahmali’s response was ruthless. She stomped her heavy, fur-covered boots, boots with vicious bear claws, into the owner’s skull. The claws dug deep, tearing through hair and scalp as she yanked her foot away, leaving a tangle of blood and hair in its wake.

The woman, trembling and broken, rolled over, her screams of agony echoing through the room. Never in her wildest nightmares did she think her end would come at the hands of a child.

Ahmali sneered, wiping the blood from her nunchucks. "Ironic, isn't it?" Her voice was cold, mocking, before she swung the weapon once more, the wood crashing into the owner's face with a final, brutal blow.

Without a second glance, Ahmali sprinted down the orphanage hall, her feet pounding against the stone floor. She reached the center of the chaos, where Lalzari moved like a winter storm—fierce, calculated, and unstoppable. Ahmali watched in awe, mesmerised by her snow guardian’s fluid, lethal grace.

Lalzari pulled the emei piercers from her thick curls, and her hair unfurled like a cascade of dark clouds, soft yet wild. It framed her face like a lion's mane, bristling with untamed power. She moved with the calm ferocity of a predator cornering its prey.

"You don’t deserve to live," Lalzari hissed, her voice barely a whisper, yet dripping with venom. With a swift, practiced motion, she plunged the piercers into the man’s chest. Blood welled up and oozed like tar from a broken dam. She tossed him aside like discarded trash, a stain too far gone to be cleaned.

Ahmali joined her, positioning herself beside her snow guardian, nunchucks spinning in a blur as she braced for the next wave. The three rebels stormed into the building, weapons slashing and striking with relentless fury. Screams and the clash of metal echoed through the halls, a wild cacophony of violence that swelled like the roar of a charging herd of wild boars.

Suddenly, Lalzari gasped—"AHHH!"—as a man seized her shawl, yanking her backward with brutal force. He swung a punch at her right side, his fist hurtling toward her like a wrecking ball.

But Lalzari was faster.

(Slice!) Her emei piercers met his fist mid-swing, embedding themselves deep into his clenched hand. The impact was like driving a nail into splintered wood. She used his trapped fist as leverage, twisting her body around and launching her boot straight into his face. His head snapped back, and he crumpled to the floor, unconscious before he hit the ground.

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