“C’mon out, ya fucker… I know what ya’re doin’!” Gen shouted, opening his arms.

“I’m not scared of ya!” he bellowed, his voice echoing across the empty forest.

There was no reply. The Gainen, if it was close by, decided to stay hidden.

Gen, forced to think, something he usually outsourced to Sophia, made the connection.

He remembered years ago, when he had just begun living with Reiji.

It was a crisp winter morning, and snow blanketed the same forest they had been threading through before the Gainen attacked.

Gen had been following Reiji on a hunting trip. Reiji regularly hunted dangerous game as a service to the town. It was one of the many jobs he took to provide for Gen’s education and expenses.

One of the main reasons Gen respected him so much.

As they walked over the crunchy, fresh snow, Reiji turned around, placing one finger over his lips and pointing with the other at a bear.

Gen, around ten at the time, couldn’t help himself and let out a surprised yelp. The bear turned and noticed them, but Reiji stepped between them, and the beast turned tail at the sheer presence of Gen’s grandfather.

As young Gen’s voice died out, swallowed by the ivory powder around them, Reiji stood as tall as he could. His grandson, coming from a very shitty family, shrank and braced himself for a hit.

Instead, Reiji turned around and knelt, placing his large hand on Gen’s shoulder. With a gentle smile, he explained:

“Gen, when huntin’, ya need to understand the patterns and moves of whatever yer prey is. Ya need to make decisions and use yer head, ’cause animals, while good with their instincts, lack the intelligence we humans have. Next time around, use yer head. Don’t let yer emotions set the terms of engagement.”

Young Gen, still surprised he wasn’t punched to the floor like he would’ve been in his stepfather’s house, weakly nodded and smiled for the first time in a long time.

“Gen… what are you talking about?” Sophia managed to ask, fighting the fear gripping her heart.

“We’re bein’ hunted,” he replied bluntly. “This fuckin’ Gainen is a hunter, and… that means somethin’.”

“I thought these fuckers were like animals; they killed from instinct. But this one… this one is actually smart,” he explained.

“And he can get to ya, because ya are smart… I’m too fuckin’ dumb to be afraid,” he continued.

“And now that fuckin’ thing knows it.” Gen spat on the floor. “I ain’t buyin’ what this fucker is sellin’.”

The young brawler pulled his medal from inside his jacket.

“He’s smart enough to know he shouldn’t lose his advantage by hidin’.” Energy began to crackle around Gen—bolts of orange lightning snapping through the air.

“But he doesn’t know somethin’,” he added, as the lightning gathered around his head, manifesting, much like on his arms and legs, a partially armored form.

A golden metallic mane formed around his head, with two large visors burning with blue light and a scarf around his neck blazing the same color.

He took a deep breath, listening to his surroundings—until he suddenly turned, his blue eyes locking onto a shape atop a tree branch.

“I’VE GOT YA NOW, FUCKER!” he bellowed, charging toward the Gainen.