✦ Fanfic Entry: Act I — The Summoning

The theater was alive with shadows.

Velvet curtains swayed as if stirred by unseen hands, chandeliers flickered overhead, casting fractured light across rows of crimson seats. The air was thick, humming with tension, as figures began to appear one by one — gangs ripped from their timelines, forced into the same space.

Mikey was the first. He sat casually, legs crossed, posture deceptively relaxed. His half-lidded eyes were unreadable, but the aura around him was suffocating. Even in silence, he dominated the room.

Draken appeared beside him, broad shoulders tense, scanning the theater with sharp vigilance. His tattooed temple glistened under the light, jaw clenched, already protective of Mikey.

Takemichi stumbled in next, wide-eyed, panic etched across his face. “W-Where are we?!” His voice cracked, echoing in the cavernous hall. Mitsuya followed, calm but wary, his designer’s eye already noting exits, the structure, the surrealism of the place.

Across the aisle, chaos incarnate arrived.

Kazutora laughed, a jagged sound that cut through the silence. “A theater? Perfect place for a massacre.” His grin was wild, eyes darting like a predator.

Hanma sprawled into a seat, legs stretched, hands behind his head, grin stretching unnaturally wide. “Now this... this is entertainment.”

Kisaki adjusted his glasses, smirk curling. He didn’t speak yet — he observed, calculated, already plotting how to twist this bizarre situation to his advantage.

Then came Tenjiku.

Izana stepped in with regal detachment, his presence cold, untouchable. He didn’t sit immediately; instead, he surveyed the theater like a king inspecting his domain. Kakucho followed loyally, gaze steady, protective, orbiting Izana like a shadow.

From the shadows, leader of Brahman emerged.

Senju walked lightly, sharp eyes scanning every face. She was curious, cautious, but unafraid.

Finally, the Black Dragons thundered in.

Baji stormed forward, voice booming. “What the hell is this place?!” His presence was domineering, immediately trying to assert control. Hakkai hesitated behind him, torn between loyalty and fear, his eyes flicking nervously toward Draken and Mitsuya. Yuzuha entered last, gaze sharp, protective of Hakkai,

The gangs were assembled. The theater hummed with hostility, every personality clashing in silence before words even began.

---

Sparks in the Dark

Takemichi broke first, voice trembling. “W-We shouldn’t be here... this isn’t right!”

Hanma chuckled, leaning forward. “Relax, crybaby. Think of it as a movie night.”

Kazutora’s laughter spiked. “Or a bloodbath.”

Draken stepped forward, towering, voice low but commanding. “Shut it. Nobody’s fighting until we know what’s going on.”

Draken’s eyes narrowed, tension thick between them — two alphas, neither willing to bow.

Kisaki finally spoke, voice smooth, calculated. “Clearly, we’ve been summoned for a reason. The question is... who’s pulling the strings?”

Izana smirked, tone dripping superiority. “Does it matter? Whoever it is, they’ll regret bringing us together.”

Senju tilted her head, thoughtful. “Or maybe... they want us to see something.”

Her words hung in the air, cryptic yet piercing.

---

The Screen Flickers

The massive screen at the front of the theater flickered to life. Static crackled, then images formed — fragments of battles, betrayals, deaths. The gangs instinctively leaned forward, drawn into the unfolding vision.

The first image: Mikey, drenched in blood, eyes hollow, fists clenched.

Takemichi gasped. “Mikey... no...” Draken’s fists tightened, veins bulging. Izana smirked. “So even the invincible Mikey breaks.” Hanma clapped mockingly. “Bravo! The king falls.” Senju frowned, whispering, “He’s carrying too much...”

Mikey didn’t react. His face remained blank, but his aura darkened, suffocating the room.

The second image: Kisaki manipulating events, pulling strings, orchestrating chaos.

Takemichi screamed, voice cracking. “You ruined everything!” Kisaki smirked, adjusting his glasses. “And yet, you’re still here, aren’t you?” Kazutora laughed, “You’re all puppets dancing to his tune.”

The gangs erupted in overlapping voices — accusations, laughter, threats. The theater became a storm of clashing personalities.

---

Clash of Wills

Draken stepped forward, voice booming. “Enough! We’re not here to fight each other.” ”

Izana smirked, “To prove who’s strongest, obviously.”

Hanma laughed, “Now that’s a show worth watching.”

Takemichi, desperate, pleaded, “No! We can’t fight... we have to understand what this means!”

Mikey finally spoke, his voice low, chilling. “...We’re all monsters. Different skins, same fate.”

The room fell silent. Even Hanma’s grin faltered. Mikey’s words cut deeper than any blade.

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