KHR: Decimo Primo

The air was thick with smoke, shouts, and the clash of steel as the Varia stormed the branch headquarters. Tsuna stood frozen for a moment, his heart pounding as chaos unfolded before him. Naito grabbed his arm.

"Snap out of it, Tsuna! We need to move!" he shouted, pulling him away from the main hall.

Around them, the younger Mafia school students were retreating en masse, their fear evident in their wide eyes and trembling hands. Many stumbled as they ran, and others huddled together for safety. The seniors, however, stood their ground where they could, rallying to support the branch's overwhelmed security forces. Despite their valiant efforts, it was clear they were no match for the Varia's elite members.

"Raul, over here!" Pantera called, ducking behind an overturned table as a Varia member sent a wave of flames crashing into a group of senior students. The seniors scattered, coughing and shielding their faces, but miraculously, none seemed fatally injured—at least not yet. Tsuna's stomach churned as he realized that despite the overwhelming attack, the Varia members weren't outright killing their targets.

"They're not here to massacre everyone," he muttered, almost to himself. His voice was shaky, but the words made Basil, who had been scanning the chaos, glance sharply at him.

"What are you saying, Sawada-dono?" Basil asked, ducking as another explosion shook the ground.

"I don't think their goal is to kill the guests," Tsuna said, his voice firmer this time. "Look around—there are injuries, but no deaths. It's like they're trying to scatter us or keep us occupied."

"Whatever their goal is, we can't face them head-on," Basil replied, his tone urgent. "We need to retreat and find cover."

"He's right!" Naito added. "We're not fighters! We'll just get in the way out here!"

Raul, carrying a stunned Lunga on his back, nodded. "We need to move now, before we get caught in the crossfire."

Reluctantly, Tsuna followed as Basil led them toward the mansion's side entrance. Explosions continued to rock the area, and they passed groups of injured students and staff being helped by their classmates. The sight made Tsuna's chest tighten with guilt and helplessness. He wanted to help, but what could he do?

As they slipped into the quieter halls of the mansion, the sounds of the battle outside grew muffled. Basil paused, placing a hand to his ear and fiddling with his earpiece. "Still no signal," he muttered with frustration. "I'll keep trying. CEDEF needs to know what's happening here."

"Wait," Tsuna said suddenly, stopping in his tracks. He had caught sight of a familiar figure walking purposefully down a corridor ahead. It was Timoteo, the Vongola Nono.

"What's he doing?" Tsuna whispered, his voice hushed but filled with alarm. "He's heading deeper into the mansion—alone!"

"That's not safe," Pantera said, frowning. "The Varia's clearly after something—or someone."

"We can't just let him go by himself," Tsuna said, determination replacing his earlier fear. "We should follow him."

Basil hesitated. "Sawada-dono, I understand your concern, but this is the Vongola Nono. He has his own guardians—highly skilled ones at that. We should focus on getting to safety and alerting reinforcements."

"But look outside," Tsuna argued, his voice rising slightly. "The guardians are holding back the Varia, but what if some of them get through? The Nono could be in danger, and he doesn't have anyone with him right now. We can't just leave him."

Basil's expression wavered, torn between his sense of duty and Tsuna's plea. Finally, he relented with a sigh. "Alright, but we proceed with extreme caution. And if it gets too dangerous, we fall back immediately. Understood?"

Tsuna nodded, relief washing over him. "Thank you."

The group crept down the corridor, following the Nono at a safe distance. As they moved deeper into the mansion, the sounds of the battle outside grew faint, replaced by an eerie silence. Occasionally, they passed signs of the Varia's attack—shattered furniture, scorch marks on the walls, and unconscious staff members. But there was no sign of the Varia themselves.

"This place feels like a maze," Lunga whispered, his voice barely audible. "Where could he be going?"

"We'll find out soon," Basil replied, his grip tightening on the hilt of his sword. "Stay alert."

As they rounded a corner, they saw Timoteo enter a large, ornate room at the end of the hall. The door closed behind him, and Tsuna and the others paused just out of sight.

"What now?" Naito asked, glancing at Tsuna.

Tsuna took a deep breath, steadying his nerves. "We go in."

Tsuna held up a hand, signaling for everyone to stay quiet. "We don't know what's inside. Let me try something."

Summoning all his focus, Tsuna extended his Mist Flames, wrapping a thin veil of distortion over himself and his companions. The flames shimmered faintly before blending seamlessly with the surroundings, cloaking them from view.

"Whoa," Naito whispered, impressed. "When did you learn to do that?"

"Not the time for questions," Tsuna murmured, sweat forming on his brow as he maintained the fragile illusion. "Just stay close."

The group moved cautiously to the door, their steps silent against the marble floor. Basil motioned for everyone to stop, then cracked the door open just enough to peer inside.

"What do you see?" Pantera asked in a hushed voice.

Basil's jaw tightened. "The Vongola Nono… and the Varia."

Tsuna felt his stomach drop. He nudged Basil aside to get a look. The room was vast, with towering pillars that cast long shadows under the dim light. At the center stood Timoteo, calm but resolute, facing six figures.

Xanxus sat on a grand, throne-like chair, his posture relaxed yet imposing. His fiery eyes locked onto Timoteo with a mix of disdain and anticipation. Beside him stood Belphegor, the "Prince," grinning maniacally, and Squalo, his massive sword resting against his shoulder. Three other individuals Tsuna didn't recognize stood nearby. One was a hulking man with a wild, beast-like appearance. Another was a wiry figure with sharp eyes and a calculating smirk. The last figure, however, caught Tsuna off guard.

A baby with a pacifier—similar to Reborn's but in a different color—hovered near Xanxus, exuding an air of authority.

"What… is that?" Raul whispered, his voice trembling.

"A Pacifier?" Basil muttered, his brow furrowed. "That can't be—"

"Quiet!" Tsuna hissed, straining to listen as Xanxus rose from his chair.

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Xanxus's POV

The old man's arrival brought a twisted smile to Xanxus's face. He stood, his movements deliberate, as if savoring the moment.

"So you finally decided to show yourself, old man," Xanxus said, his voice dripping with contempt. "What's the matter? Tired of hiding behind your so-called guardians?"

Timoteo didn't flinch. His calm gaze met Xanxus's fiery one. "I came because this senseless attack must end. Whatever grievance you have, this is not the way."

Xanxus laughed, the sound echoing through the room. "Grievance? You think this is about petty grievances?" He stepped forward, his hand igniting with the powerful flames of Wrath. "This is about reclaiming what should've been mine all along!"

Belphegor chuckled, licking the blade of one of his knives. "The Prince agrees. This is going to be fun."

"Enough talk," Squalo growled, his sharp teeth glinting as he gestured with his sword. "Let's settle this now!"

The other Varia members remained silent but poised, their presence a constant threat.

Timoteo sighed, his expression heavy. "Xanxus, you are misguided. This path leads only to destruction—for you and for the Vongola."

"Save your lectures!" Xanxus snarled, his flames surging. "Today, I'll take what's rightfully mine, and no one will stop me!"

Here's the revised continuation where Timoteo faces the Varia alone in a one-versus-six scenario:

Xanxus's laughter boomed across the cavernous room, echoing ominously off the pillars. "Old man, you should've stayed in your rocking chair. Did you think you'd walk in here and talk us down?"

Timoteo's expression remained calm as he surveyed the six figures before him. His Sky Flames burned faintly around his hands, their soft glow a stark contrast to the aggressive, roaring energy of the Varia members surrounding him.

"No, I came to stop you," Timoteo said simply, his voice steady.

"Stop us?" Belphegor sneered, his knives glinting in his hands. "That's rich! The Prince loves a good comedy."

"Enough talk!" Squalo bellowed, charging forward, his massive sword gleaming as it cut through the air. "We'll end you here!"

Timoteo didn't flinch. As Squalo's blade came crashing down, the Nono sidestepped with fluid precision, his Sky Flames forming a shield that deflected the blade's edge. Sparks flew as the two forces clashed, and Squalo was forced back a step.

"Fast for an old man," Squalo snarled, repositioning himself.

"Allow me!" Leviathan growled, raising his hands as Thunder Flames surged outward in crackling arcs. The energy leaped toward Timoteo like living snakes, ready to strike him down.

Timoteo extended his palm, summoning a swirling barrier of Sky Flames. The Thunder Flames collided with the barrier, dispersing in a dazzling spray of sparks.

"You rely too much on brute force," Timoteo said, his tone almost chiding.

Lussuria grinned, his movements graceful as he darted toward Timoteo. "Then let's see how you handle this!" His fists, glowing with Sun Flames, struck out in a flurry of blows.

Timoteo's movements were measured and deliberate. With minimal effort, he dodged the strikes, his Sky Flames forming precise counterattacks that forced Lussuria to retreat.

"This isn't a fight for children," Mammon said coldly, their Mist Flames swirling ominously. "Let's finish this."

The room shifted as illusions filled the space, distorting Timoteo's surroundings. The walls seemed to close in, and phantom Varia members appeared, circling him with malicious intent.

Timoteo's eyes narrowed. "Illusions? You underestimate me, Mammon."

With a surge of Sky Flames, the illusions shattered like fragile glass, revealing Mammon's startled expression.

Belphegor took advantage of the moment, knives flying toward Timoteo with deadly precision. "Let's see you dodge these!"

Timoteo twisted gracefully, evading most of the blades while deflecting the rest with bursts of his Sky Flames.

"You're all holding back," he said calmly. "Is it doubt, or fear, that stays your hand?"

"SHUT UP!" Xanxus roared, his Wrath Flames exploding outward. The sheer force of his energy cracked the stone beneath his feet and sent a wave of heat washing over the room.

Timoteo barely had time to brace himself as Xanxus launched himself forward, his fists ablaze with fury. The impact of their clash sent shockwaves through the cavern, and Timoteo grunted as he held his ground.

"You don't deserve to call yourself Vongola!" Xanxus snarled, pushing harder against Timoteo's defenses.

"And you don't understand what it means to lead," Timoteo replied, his voice unshaken despite the strain.

The two broke apart, and Timoteo took a deep breath, his Sky Flames flaring brighter. Around him, the other Varia members began to converge, their Flames burning with lethal intent.

"Let's finish this together," Xanxus growled, his eyes glinting with malice.

Timoteo's gaze swept across his adversaries. Six of the Varia's deadliest warriors stood before him, their power unmatched by any ordinary foe. He exhaled slowly, centering himself.

"Very well," he said softly. "Come."

With a roar, the Varia attacked as one, their combined forces creating a storm of Flames and destruction that bore down on Timoteo.

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The room roared with Flame energy as the Varia's combined might surged toward Timoteo. The air crackled with raw power, and the ground trembled under the sheer force of their attack. But at the center of it all, the Ninth remained steadfast, his Sky Flames glowing brighter, pushing against the storm like a calm beacon amidst chaos.

Belphegor's knives flew like deadly rain, their edges gleaming as they sought Timoteo's vulnerable spots. He deflected them with precise bursts of Sky Flames, his movements fluid and economical. Levi's Thunder Flames crackled, darting toward him in jagged arcs, but they fizzled out against the shield of Sky Flames surrounding the Nono. Lussuria, leaping in with a flurry of Sun Flame-enhanced strikes, found himself parried and sent skidding back by a forceful counter.

Squalo growled, his massive blade swinging with relentless fury. "Stay still, old man!" he shouted, his movements becoming more frenzied as frustration mounted.

Timoteo sidestepped, his Sky Flames flaring as he sent Squalo sprawling with a well-placed strike. "You lack control," he said calmly, his voice cutting through the chaos. "All of you do."

The Ninth pivoted, his flames surging outward in a radiant pulse. Belphegor, Levi, and Lussuria were thrown back, and their attacks were nullified. They collapsed to the ground, groaning and unable to continue. Only Xanxus and Mammon remained standing, though the latter made no move to intervene.

Mammon watched intently, her expression unreadable under her hood. She could have stepped in—the Arcobaleno's mastery of the Mist Flame would have been enough to turn the tide. But in her thoughts, Viper calculated the risk.

Interfering further isn't worth it, she thought, observing how Timoteo maneuvered. The Ninth knows who I truly am. If I escalate this, it could cost me far more than I'd gain.

Feigning injury, Mammon let herself fall to the ground, cloaking her actions with a convincing illusion. She slumped over, seemingly incapacitated, her eyes barely open as she surveyed the scene.

It was then that she noticed movement at the far edge of the room. A group of children—six to eight years olds peeked cautiously from behind a distant pillar. Her sharp gaze focused on them. Children? Here?

A devious idea began to form in her mind. If Xanxus failed, these children could be used as leverage against the Ninth. Yes… They'll make excellent bargaining chips. But for now, she remained still, choosing to let the battle play out.

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Xanxus panted heavily, his Wrath Flames flickering around him. He surveyed the room with disdain, his frustration mounting as he saw his subordinates lying defeated. Squalo, the only one still conscious, staggered to his feet, clutching his sword.

"Tch," Xanxus growled. "Is this what you call the Varia's best? Pathetic."

"Boss…" Squalo muttered, his voice strained. "I… I'll fight…"

"Stay out of this, Squalo," Xanxus barked, his fiery gaze locking onto Timoteo. "This is between me and him now."

Timoteo, though visibly tired, stood tall. His Sky Flames glowed steadily, illuminating his calm expression. "Xanxus, it doesn't have to be this way. Stand down, and we can resolve this without further bloodshed."

"SHUT UP!" Xanxus roared, launching himself at Timoteo with a ferocious burst of Wrath Flames. His fists burned with intensity as he struck, each blow echoing with raw power. "You dare lecture me? You, who lied to me all my life?"

Timoteo met each attack with precision, his Sky Flames countering Xanxus's Wrath Flames in brilliant bursts of energy. "I never lied to you," he said, his voice steady even as the battle raged on. "I raised you as my son because I love you as my son."

"Don't you dare say that!" Xanxus's rage boiled over, his flames flaring wildly. "I'm not your son! I'm nothing to you! You think I don't know the truth? You think I didn't find out about him—the one you chose over me?"

Timoteo's expression softened, a flicker of pain crossing his face. "You're wrong, Xanxus. I chose no one over you. I wanted you to lead, but not like this. Not with hatred and violence."

"LIES!" Xanxus screamed, pouring every ounce of his strength into one final strike.

Timoteo sighed, his Sky Flames surging as he prepared his counter. "Xanxus, I'm sorry."

The Ninth extended his arms, his flames condensing into a brilliant sphere. "Zero Point Breakthrough!"

The room was engulfed in a blinding flash of light as Timoteo unleashed the freezing technique. Xanxus's Wrath Flames were extinguished, and his body froze mid-charge, encased in crystalline ice.

Squalo, who had been watching helplessly, collapsed to his knees, his sword clattering to the floor. "What… what is that technique?" he muttered, his voice filled with disbelief. "Boss… I couldn't do anything…"

The room fell silent, save for the faint crackling of residual flames. Timoteo stood over the frozen Xanxus, his expression heavy with sorrow. "You've been consumed by your anger for too long, Xanxus," he said quietly. "I hope… one day, you'll understand."

With that, Timoteo turned his gaze to the shadows, where he sensed an unseen threat. Unknown to him, Mammon's eyes gleamed with calculation, her earlier plan forming into something far more dangerous.