Laurel stood in the dim light of the forest, his eyes fixed on the distant horizon as the echoes of the previous night's battle with Monkey Man faded. The air was thick with tension, a mix of fear and anticipation that clung to him like the damp mist settling over the trees. He hadn't slept well, not that sleep had ever come easy to him.

  But this night had been different. This night had dredged up memories he'd long tried to bury—memories that tore through him like the lasers he could shoot from his eyes.

  In his dream, he was back in that cramped apartment, the walls too close, the air too heavy with the stench of cheap whiskey. His mother's voice, usually so strong and soothing, was cracked and pleading. His father's silhouette loomed over her, fists clenched, eyes wild with rage.

  "Please, Danny, don't!" his mother begged.

  Laurel, just nine years old at the time, had cowered in the corner of the living room, too scared to intervene but unable to look away. His father's anger had always been like a storm—unpredictable, violent, and impossible to escape. That night, the storm broke. His father's fists had rained down like boulders, and before Laurel could scream, it was too late. The life had drained from his mother's eyes, leaving her crumpled on the floor, silent and still.

  Laurel had fled that night, running through the streets until his legs burned, vowing to never stop until he had avenged her. But no matter how far he ran, he could never outrun the guilt, the anger, the helplessness. And now, it seemed, he couldn't outrun his father either.

  In the dream, the scene shifted, and he was no longer that terrified child. He was older, hardened, his mother's blood still fresh in his memory. But this time, there was something new. A name, floating in the air like a specter: Danny Benigine. And then he saw it, clear as day—a list of names. His father's name, bold and unmistakable, was on the roster for Power Royale. Ten spots remained, and his father had taken one.

  Laurel woke with a start, his heart pounding in his chest. The fire of vengeance burned hotter than ever, threatening to consume him whole. His eyes, glowing faintly in the dark, narrowed as he clenched his fists. He knew now that his father was out there, somewhere on this cursed island, and he would find him. He would make him pay.

  The morning came with grim news. The announcers' voices crackled through the air, cutting through the stillness with their usual mix of excitement and morbidity.

  Announcer 1: "Good morning, folks! What a night it's been! The war boars have done their job, thinning out the competition. Fifteen competitors have fallen, leaving us with a clean seventy! How's that for a little nighttime culling?"

  Announcer 2: "Indeed, the numbers are dropping fast, and it's only going to get more intense from here. Remember, folks, in this game, it's not just about power, but strategy and survival."

  Laurel barely heard them. His mind was already racing, plotting his next move. Somewhere out there, Danny Benigine was waiting. Laurel's fingers itched with the urge to unleash the power he'd been gifted, to make sure that this time, when the storm broke, it would be his father who was left in pieces.

  The woods were eerily silent as the trio moved cautiously through the dense undergrowth. The air was thick with tension, every rustle of leaves or snap of a twig putting their nerves on edge. William led the way, his eyes scanning the ground for any signs of movement, while Angelo kept his senses sharp, ready to shift into any animal that might give them an edge in this hostile environment. Laurel trailed behind, his mind consumed by thoughts of his father.

  They had been walking for hours, the adrenaline from their encounter with Monkey Man still lingering in their veins. Laurel had barely spoken since they set off, his usually sharp tongue dulled by the weight of his memories. But now, something had caught his eye—small, irregular shapes scattered across the forest floor, half-buried in the dirt.

  "Wait," Laurel said, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade. He crouched down, brushing aside the leaves and debris to reveal a series of tracks. They weren't animal tracks, but something else entirely—small, jagged indentations that almost looked like tiny rocks.

  "Those are...weird," Angelo muttered, kneeling beside him. "What do you think they are?"

  Laurel's eyes narrowed as he studied the tracks. His heart skipped a beat as a memory flashed before his eyes—a memory he had tried to forget.

  ---

  **Flashback - One Month Earlier**

  Danny Benigine sat in a sterile room, his hands shaking as he watched the syringe filled with a swirling, metallic liquid. The man in the white lab coat smiled, but it was a cold, clinical smile that didn't reach his eyes.

  "Don't worry, Mr. Benigine," the man said in a monotone voice. "This will make you stronger. It's what you need to win. It's what you need to save your family."

  Danny barely heard him. His mind was a whirlwind of thoughts—of his gambling debts, of the threats made against his wife and son, of the voices in his head that screamed at him day and night. He needed this power. He needed it more than anything.

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  The needle pierced his skin, and the liquid burned as it coursed through his veins. He gritted his teeth, feeling his muscles tense and his skin harden. And then, as the pain subsided, he felt something new—something strong, unbreakable. He looked down at his hands and watched in awe as small rocks began to form on his skin, like armor growing from within.

  "Rock manipulation," the man in the lab coat said, his voice filled with a twisted sense of pride. "You'll be unstoppable."

  ---

  Laurel's breath hitched as the memory faded. He stood up abruptly, his hands clenched into fists. "It's him," he whispered, his voice filled with a mix of fear and determination. "It's my father. He's close."

  William and Angelo exchanged glances, the tension between them thickening. "Are you sure?" William asked, his tone skeptical but cautious.

  "Yeah," Laurel said, his eyes hardening. "I know those tracks. I've seen them before. He's leaving them behind without even realizing it."

  William nodded, his mind already working on a plan. "Alright, then we follow the tracks. But we stay sharp. If he's anything like you, he won't go down easily."

  They moved forward with renewed purpose, the tracks leading them deeper into the forest. The further they went, the more frequent the tracks became, as if Danny was losing control of his power, leaving a trail of small rocks in his wake.

  After what felt like an eternity, they finally reached a clearing. And there, at the center of it all, stood Danny Benigine.

  He was a hulking figure, his skin covered in jagged rocks that gleamed in the dappled sunlight. His eyes were wild, darting around as if he were searching for something—or someone. He didn't notice them at first, too consumed by whatever thoughts were racing through his mind.

  But Laurel noticed him. His breath caught in his throat as he stared at the man who had destroyed his life—the man he had vowed to kill.

  "Dad," Laurel whispered, his voice barely audible over the sound of his pounding heart.

  Danny's head snapped up, his gaze locking onto Laurel's. For a moment, the world seemed to stand still, the tension so thick it was suffocating.

  And then, just as quickly, the moment was over. Danny's eyes narrowed, his hands balling into fists as the rocks on his skin began to shift and grow.

  The battle was about to begin.

  The clearing was silent except for the faint rustling of leaves in the wind. Laurel stood frozen, staring at the monstrous figure of his father, Danny Benigine. The man he had vowed to kill. The man who had ripped apart his life, his family, and now, his heart.

  Danny's eyes, wild and unfocused, locked onto Laurel. A flicker of recognition passed through them, but it was quickly buried beneath a wave of madness. His rock-covered body shifted, the jagged stones grinding together as his muscles tensed.

  "Laurel...?" Danny's voice was a low, guttural growl, filled with confusion and something else—something that might have been regret. "Is that...you?"

  Laurel clenched his fists, his entire body trembling with a mix of fear and rage. "Yes, Dad. It's me. The son you left behind. The son you—" His voice caught in his throat, choking on the words. "—you killed Mom."

  Danny flinched at the accusation, a brief flash of humanity piercing through his crazed expression. "I...didn't mean to," he muttered, his voice barely audible. "The voices...they wouldn't stop. They told me...I had to..."

  Laurel's heart twisted in his chest, torn between the child who once loved his father and the avenger who had sworn to end him. But there was no room for pity now. Not after everything that had happened.

  "You don't get to blame the voices," Laurel spat, his eyes blazing with fury. "You don't get to make excuses. You destroyed everything! And now, I'm going to make sure you never hurt anyone again."

  Danny's expression hardened, the brief moment of vulnerability vanishing as quickly as it had appeared. He straightened up, towering over Laurel like a living mountain of rock. "You think you can stop me, boy?" he growled, his voice dripping with menace. "You're just a kid. You've always been weak. Just like your mother."

  The words hit Laurel like a physical blow, but he refused to let them break him. He focused on his rage, letting it fuel his power. His eyes began to glow, a searing red light building up behind them as he prepared to unleash everything he had.

  But Danny moved faster than Laurel expected. With a roar, he lunged forward, his massive hands closing around Laurel before he could react. The rocks on his father's skin were cold and unyielding, crushing Laurel's small frame with terrifying strength.

  Laurel struggled, his vision blurring from the pain, but it was no use. Danny lifted him into the air as if he weighed nothing, his grip tightening with brutal force.

  "This is what you wanted, isn't it?" Danny snarled, his face twisted in a grotesque grin. "You wanted to face me? You wanted to kill me? Well, let's see if you have the guts to do it!"

  With a sickening crunch, Danny began to pull. The pain was unimaginable, white-hot agony that tore through Laurel's body as his father's strength overwhelmed him. He could feel his bones snapping, his flesh tearing—every nerve in his body screaming in agony.

  But even as his body was being ripped apart, Laurel's mind remained focused. He couldn't let it end like this. Not without taking his father down with him.

  With a final, desperate surge of energy, Laurel's eyes flared with a blinding red light. He focused everything he had into one last, devastating blast—aimed directly at Danny's eyes.

  The laser shot out, a searing beam of energy that sliced through the air and struck its target. Danny's roar of triumph turned into a scream of agony as the laser burned into his eyes, blinding him instantly.

  Laurel could feel his father's grip loosening, but it was too late. His body was already broken beyond repair, his life slipping away with every passing second. He could barely breathe, let alone move.

  But he had done it. He had stopped his father. The man who had caused so much pain—who had ruined so many lives—was finally defeated.

  As Danny collapsed to the ground, his body convulsing in his death throes, Laurel felt a strange sense of peace wash over him. The pain was fading now, replaced by a numbness that was almost comforting.

  He could see the sky through the trees, the sunlight filtering down in soft, golden rays. It was beautiful. And for the first time in what felt like forever, Laurel allowed himself to cry. Tears of pain, of sorrow, of relief.

  As his vision darkened, Laurel's last thought was of his mother. He hoped he would see her again. That he could finally tell her how sorry he was. That he could finally rest.

  And then, with a final, shuddering breath, Laurel Benigine died.

  The screen flickered as the Announcers' voices filled the air, their tones somber but tinged with excitement.

  Announcer 1: "Whoa, folks! That was one for the history books! Laurel Benigine and his father Danny—what a showdown! I don't think anyone expected that outcome!"

  Announcer 2: "Indeed, a tragic end for both father and son. But that's the nature of the Power Royale. Only the strongest survive. We're down to 68 contestants, and things are only going to get more intense from here."

  Announcer 1: "You said it! Stick around, everyone—this is far from over!"

  The camera panned out, showing the blood-soaked clearing one last time before cutting to black.

  To be continued...