The President sat down at his desk, smoking. Mr. Armstrong sat opposite him. 

"It's been over a year now, Mr. President, and things haven't gotten any better," Mr. Armstrong said, frowning. 

The President kept his eyes to slits. He was calm. Too calm. Serene as if nothing could ever bother him. "There is no better, Mr. Armstrong," he said, "there is only worse. If things worsen, only then we can start to worry. You can start to worry."

"Mr. President, might I ask ..."

"Mhm?"

"What about you? Are you going to worry should things worsen?"

The President looked at him. "To hell with that. The people's feelings are my feelings. But I don't actually feel ... anything. Not anymore. After years of this long tenure, you're bound to become a lonesome stoic."

Mr. Armstrong stood. "Mr. President, I don't mean to be disrespectful but I don't think you're doing your job there. You're suppose to feel things, as our president. I don't know if it's the fifth abilities you possess that makes you feel inhuman, I can't have that from you as our political leader. 

"The demons are here now. And I commend that you've set up a whole new world beforehand. But this new world isn't ideal for the people. There are only sufferers. They don't get food, so they rely heavily upon their abilities to get them such food. This leads to fights, and wars. Gangs, Mr. President.

"So many have lost their lives. Our law enforcement officers are becoming trivial. Nobody fears them anymore, nobody. And our children are being molestered and killed every day. The population has declined by more than sixty percent during the course of this year. 

"We have escaped an apocalypse, Mr. President, and you deserve all the credit for that. The domes are our last hopes. But we've escaped an apocalypse, only to make another. These domes are dangerous to even walk in. Maybe it's time we bring out our prototypes. The tropes of warriors we've built to fight back. This is the apocalypse, Mr. President. Hel's army will find a way to get into the domes!"

Mr. President looked at Armstrong. "You think I don't know that? We must save our top secret tropes for later. We'll create tropes with what we have now. We'll use our people. Those gangsters in the mafia. We'll make them our weapons; almost as good as our actual top secret weapons." 

"W-why ... why would we do that?"

The President glared at Mr. Armstrong. "Justice is lost. Democracy is lost. This is the new world. So watch those gangs carefully, Mr. Armstrong."

***

Xavier slowly turned around; body swathed in flames, clothes burned to nothing. This was what he wanted for a long time now. He furrowed his brows. A war with Ash. He had been reveled and overpraised enough. It was time to take his place. 

Ash stood with apathy in his eyes. This wasn't the first member of his gang who had tried to annihilate him. He scoffed. Here he thought he had defeated the assailant and set the example to exhibit what fate a betrayer was to get. He clutched his fingers to the cold metal bat. 

'They don't learn, don't they? They all try to kill me 'cause they think it's easy. I mean, I don't have an ability so I suppose that's what they'd assume. But they didn't know me ... they should've known me. Had they known me, they would have not attacked my in the first place, and they would have been alive today. The amount of comrade blood on my hands, it's just immeasurable at this point. If this is what the King of the Mafia's life is, then I want out. But I guess ... it's far too late for that.'

They—both Xavier and Ash—were amidst a circle of flames thrice the heights of their bodies. To amend, it was thrice the height of Xavier's body, and twice the height of Ash. Ash was a rather tall young man now. And to execute such powerful, lingering flames; Xavier was a powerful man. Or was he?

Xavier raised his right hand, outstretching his fingers. "By the way, Ash ... this is nothing personal" he said, bending his fingers in to almost touch his palms. Suddenly, a ball of swirling flames had begun to conjur, expanding. The attack bolted at Ash, pitching through air, sputtering. 

Ash scoffed. "Tsk." He quickly swung with bat with both his hands. The bat bolted to the right. He used his left leg to balance out his body. The bat passed through the flames, causing the pocket of fire to disperse and descend to the floor. 

Xavier glared at him. He hadn't expected him to be stop the fireball so easily. For him, it was impressive. He was the only one had heaved Ash's bat—given that Ash didn't trust many with his weapon—and having heaved it, he realized that it was a rather heavy weapon. It kept getting easier for Ash to use. Xavier sneered. A metal bat was such an asburd choice of weapon. 

Xavier suddenly raised both his hands; and started firing constant fireballs. 'When he swings, it would take a second for him to steady and swing in the other direction. So a few of my fireballs are bound to hit him!' 

The fireballs scooted at Ash. Ash raised his bat, and tossed it to his left hand. Two fireballs were in reach. He swung, hitting them both. The heaviness of the weapon sent his body to the right. And a few other fireballs were coming his way. He tossed the bat to his right hand. He swung; hitting fireballs. He released the bat. It hurtled to the left. Quickly, he caught it with his right hand. He swung again, destroying flames and releasing the bat. It hurtled to right. He caught it with his left hand and quickly swung again. 

Ash was hitting the fireballs with his wide swings, seamlessly. One after the other, or some in a row. He swung, constantly passing the bat between hands. And he did it all with a monotonous look lingering on his countenance. 

Yes, this was boring for him. Child's play. 

Xavier grimaced. He had never seen someone use the bat lIke this before. 'His competency is there. What technique is he even using here? He knows that his double handed swings take longer and send his body unsteadying, so he passed them between hands. As soon as he swings the bat, he releases it and catches it in the opposite hand. Fair play.' The intensity of of Xavier's flames had escalated. 'I suppose fireballs aren't enough!' 

Xavier bolted at Ash. Ash simply took a single step back and held his bat, with both his hands; on par with the level of his head. Xavier's entire body was covered in flames; except for his head. He furrowed his brows as he zoomed in. Ash changed his stance.

Xavier bolted into hitting range, and dashed backward. Ash hadn't swung like he had expected him to. Xavier dashed in again, and jabbed a fiery fist. Ash raised his bat in front of him, blocking the blow. Xavier's fist crashed into metal. He winced, going for Ash's head this time. 

Ash raised swung his bat, hitting away Xavier's hand. Xavier groaned, his bone cracking loudly. He furrowed his brows and powered up. Before he could even finish, Ash swung his bat at his head. He went pitching away. He rolled and then slid backward, shooting a fireballs. 

Ash sauntered toward Xavier, moving his bat in a hanging right, hanging left, lowering to his body, and raising to head. He used his bat like a lightsaber, block fireballs by simply changing the position of his bat. He continued toward Xavier. 

Xavier backed away. Ash closed in. Xavier quickly his head, and pushed out his lips. Suddenly fireball jetted out from his mouth and toward Ash. Ash raised his bat and hurtled at it Xavier. The bat went straight through the flames and crashed into Xavier's head. Xavier collapsed, crashing to his back. 

Xavier's face was almost crushed. He felt as though his skull had fractured. His face was engulfed in blood. He panted heavily; looking up at the sky—the sky that was covered by a massive, translucent dome. Then, Ash's towering body fell into his sight. His eyes had been pulled toward him, shifting focus. He scowled. 

Ash picked up his bat, and slung it over his shoulder. He scoffed. It was such an easy fight. Perhaps Xavier was scared of him. "You're weakest fire user I've ever fought. And trust me," he nodded his head, "I've fought many. 

"The right of fire around us. You should've closed the ring, and force me to panic. The walls of the ring could've been closed with your ability. You disappointed me today."

Xavier gritted his teeth. 

'HOW'D I LOSE TO HIM?'

'HE HAS NO ABILITY!'

'WHAT WERE THOSE MOVES!'

'WHY ARE MY HANDS BROKEN!?'

'WHO ....'

'IS THIS GUY?' 

'HE MUST BE USING AN ABILITY!'

Ash held the bat in both his hands. He charged an attack, about to finish off Xavier. "It's a new world, Xavier. One in which we must suffer. I can't suffer any problems with you any more. So you must die. I can't have backstabbers in my empire," he raised his bat higher, "by the way, it's nothing personal ..."

"ASH, WAIT! LET'S TALK THIS ONE OUT!"

"I WAS JUST TESTING! I WAS PLAYING!"

"FORGIVE ME! SPARE MY—"

Whack!

Xavier's world was now nothing but blackness. A benighted world.