“Quiet,” one of the men snarled near his ear. “Or I break your teeth.”

The threat hung in the air.

The boy kicked, but there was no strength in it.

Then—

Tap.

A single sound touched the ground behind them.

Soft. Measured.

The men froze.

One turned slightly, his voice dropping.

“You hear that?”

Silence answered for a breath.

Then again—

Tap.

At the mouth of the alley, a figure stood.

Still.

Calm.

Duniya.

“Who is there?, I heard a child's voice.”

His voice came out even, without strain.

The men turned fully now.

“…You again?” one said.

The other smirked.

“Isn't that the blind kid?”

A quiet laugh passed between them.

“Just keep going,” the first waved him off. “This doesn't concern you.”

"Sir! Please help!!" the kid shouted in a strained voice 

Duniya stepped forward once.

“If you leave now…”

A pause.

“You won’t be hurt.”

They exchanged looks, amusement rising easily.

“Eh? Did he just warn us?” the second muttered.

The first scoffed loudly.

“Blind man dey threaten us now?”

They shoved the boy aside.

He hit the ground hard.

And the moment snapped.

One of them rushed forward.

Duniya did not move at first.

He listened.

Footsteps striking dirt. Breath cutting through the air. Cloth shifting with speed.

Then he turned.

The stick moved before the man understood—

CRACK.

Wood slammed into wrist.

A blade fell, clattering against the ground.

“Ahh—!”

The second man came in wild, anger driving the swing.

Duniya shifted—just barely—

Steel grazed his shoulder.

A thin line opened. Blood followed.

He grunted, but remained standing.

He stepped back—

Too far.

His body struck the wall behind him.

They closed in.

“Finish him!”

Duniya let the stick fall.

His hand moved to the wrapped blade at his side.

For a fraction of a second—

He hesitated.

That was enough.

A kick crashed into his chest.

Air left him.

He hit the ground hard.

They circled him slowly.

“You should really mind your own business, kid,” one sneered.

The boy’s voice trembled nearby.

“Sir—”

Duniya lifted his head slightly.

He listened.

The boy’s breath.

The scrape of boots.

The quiet movement of the night wind through the alley.

Everything placed itself in his mind.

His hand tightened around the wrapping.

Slowly, he drew the blade—just enough.

S H I I I N G.

Steel sang into the night.

The sound alone made them hesitate.

Duniya rose, unsteady, blood slipping down his body.

“One more step…” he said quietly.

“…and you’ll regret it.”

“Hah…” the voice came, low with interest. “So the blind boy even has a takouba.”

The taller one charged anyway.

Heavy steps. Fast.

"AARGH!!" He lunged forward

Too fast.

Duniya turned—

Too late.

The blow hit like a hammer.

His body lifted, then slammed into the dirt.

The blade slipped from his grasp and skidded away.

They moved in again.

Duniya forced himself up on one arm.

His body shook under him.

His hand reached out—searching—

For the sound of metal against earth.

His fingers brushed it—

—and he fell back as a shadow fell over him.

He knelt in the dirt, blood running down his brow.

The first man circled him slowly.

While the other tightened his grip on his weapon.

“What can a blind man truly do?” he spoke.

He rushed forward.

Duniya’s head snapped toward him.

He listened harder now—

Breath.

Footsteps.

Cloth cutting air—

Steel struck across his back.

Not deep.

But sharp.

He hit the ground again.

Laughter followed.

“I told you.”

The man stepped closer, raising his blade.

Duniya’s hand pressed into the earth.

Loose sand shifted beneath his fingers.

Then, immediately, he grabbed a bit of the sand 

He waved his hand in the air 

The sand flew upward in a wide arc.

It struck their faces.

They staggered instantly.

“Ah—! My eyes!”

“Damn it—!”

Duniya rolled aside, rising low, silent.

Now they could not see.

With panicked breath.

Unsteady steps.

Steel scraping against dirt.

He moved between them

A low kick struck bone.

CRACK.

ack!! A scream followed as one collapsed.

Duniya turned.

The second swung wildly.

The blade cut nothing but air.

An elbow drove into ribs.

Breath left the man in a broken wheeze.

Duniya hooked his stick behind the ankle—

Pulled.

The man fell.

Steel dropped.

The first attacker rushed again.

Duniya stepped toward the sound.

The stick rose—

CRACK.

Knee shattered under the strike.

A scream tore through the alley.

The second hesitated.

Duniya turned his head slightly. Listening.

The man attacked anyway.

Steel met steel—

A ringing clash split the air.

The force pushed Duniya back.

His footing slipped.

He fell.

The blade rose above him for the final strike.

 A stone flew through the dark as the boy made an attempt to help 

It struck the attacker’s shoulder.

The strike missed.

Duniya moved instantly.

Everything he had left went into the swing—

CRACK.

Bone broke.

The weapon dropped.

For a moment—

No one moved.

Then fear took them.

They ran.

One dragged the other, injured with him.

Footsteps faded into the night.

Silence returned.

Duniya stood unsteadily, blood trailing down his back and arm.

The boy crawled closer.

“…You’re bleeding.”

Duniya exhaled slowly.

“It’s… nothing.”

He planted his stick into the ground and tried to stand straight.

His knees trembled beneath him.

The world shifted—

Sound bending— His sense of balance faded

Wind.

The boy’s breathing—

The stick slipped from his hand.

And Duniya fell forward into darkness.

“Sir! Sir!”