A man in a sharp black suit hunched over a glowing computer screen, the dim light casting sharp angles across his face as he furrowed his brow in concentration. His dark eyes reflected the bright lights of the screen.

"Multiple witnesses reported a young woman—platinum blonde hair, fair skin—seen with a firearm at the nightclub," he muttered to himself. "Same description shows up again at UCLA. Someone like that can't be mistaken."

He leaned back, eyes narrowed, fingers tapping restlessly on the desk, running a frustrated hand through his black hair..

"Either we're chasing a ghost, or she's way more dangerous than we thought."

A voice cut cleanly through the silence. "Brioni. Progress?"

Agent Mireille stepped into the light, hands clasped behind her back, her expression unreadable. She wore a sharply tailored black trench coat that fell just below her knees, its collar turned up against her neck. Her dark auburn hair was pulled into a low, shaped bun that emphasized the sharp angles of her face—high cheekbones, an aquiline nose, and thin, unsmiling lips painted a muted plum.

Jaxon Brioni didn't turn. "Her face shows up at two crime scenes. Then nothing. No ID, no digital footprint. Every camera she passes glitches out. She knows how to cover her tracks. But she slipped once—we've got this frame." He tapped the keyboard, pausing a grainy clip. A platinum blur under a streetlight, gun in hand, her hair illuminating like a spectral vision caught on camera.

Mireille examined the image, frowning. "So what's the theory?"

"She's either chasing the chaos or causing it. Could be a vigilante. Could be part of something bigger. Either way..." He paused, jaw tightening. "She's our only lead."

Mireille's gaze sharpened on the image. "Then we bring her in. Quietly. If she's armed and embedded in this mess, we don't risk spooking her."

Brioni stood, adjusting his tie. "Already issued a quiet alert to our field units. High-risk target. Do not engage unless cornered."

"Good," said Mireille. "Because if she's involved in this... we're already several steps behind."

------

As Edel drifted back to consciousness, her head pounded and her limbs ached. The biting pressure of zip ties cut into her wrists, securing her tightly to a cold metal chair. She blinked hard against the sunlight streaming in from the tall windows behind a desk, the brightness making her vision swim.

A blonde woman with straight hair, porcelain skin, large gold cross earrings, and sharp blue eyes sat comfortably across the grand desk, the bright daylight casting elegant shadows across her angular features. Her tailored black double breasted blazer suit hugged her slender frame with sharp precision, the subtle shimmer of expensive fabric catching the light. She wore sheer black tights and pointed heels that gleamed like obsidian. A delicate gold chain hung around her neck, the pendant bearing her family's coat of arms: a fierce lion bearing sharp teeth and claws.

Her posture was relaxed, almost lazy, with her chin rested on her interlocked fingers, but there was a predatory stillness to her that made anyone fear her. A sly smile curled on her lips, calculated and cold, like a cat savoring the moment before it pounced. Her hair, glossy and perfectly styled in soft, deliberate waves, framed her face like a halo—an angelic contrast to the menace in her gaze.

Everything about her—her poise, her clothes, her expression—radiated control. This was a woman who was used to being obeyed, feared, and never questioned.

"You're awake," she said, voice smooth and velvety with amusement. "You really fooled the world, you know. Dead for years—at least, that's what the reports said."

Around Edel, silent figures clad in black stood like statues, armed and ready, their presence a warning: don't even think about trying to escape.

The woman leaned forward slightly, eyes gleaming with an unsettling mix of admiration and malice. "I have to admit, I'm impressed. Disappearing like that? Not easy. But even ghosts slip up eventually. So what was it, hmm? Did those sweet new friends of yours make you soft?"

She laughed lightly, as if the whole thing were a joke between old acquaintances. "I had a lot of time to think while you were unconscious. I wondered—how does the youngest Monclerchanteau end up here, all alone? Your family, so powerful, so pristine... and you? Overshadowed. Invisible. Maybe this is your

way of finally stealing the spotlight."

Her voice dropped, almost sympathetic. "It must be hard... the survivor's guilt. Knowing you were the only one who made it out alive."

Edel glared at her, jaw tight. "Who are you? What do you want?"

The woman smirked, clearly savoring the moment. "So much fire in you now. You've clearly changed—gotten sharper, colder. I like it." Her long nails clicked rhythmically against the wooden desk as she leaned in. "I'm just trying to catch up, Edel. A little girl talk, that's all."

Her smile faded like a blade slipping back into its sheath, replaced by something harder. "But let's drop the pretense. You've been sabotaging the Fantasma family's operations. That's my territory—and you've crossed the line. That doesn't come without consequences."

Edel's brow rose. "What?"

The woman's voice dropped, laced with venom. "Let me spell it out for you: you've interfered with high-value cargo at the Port of LA, cost us hundreds of thousands—no, millions! You've taken out our men, torched our assets. All while escaping relatively unscathed."

Edel met her stare, unflinching. "You deserve so much worse."

At the subtle nod from the woman, one of the guards stepped forward and slammed the butt of his rifle into Edel's head. Pain exploded in her skull, and she grit her teeth, refusing to cry out. Blood trickled from her brow.

The woman leaned forward, her voice colder now, eyes narrowed with curiosity and contempt.

"What are you even doing here, Edel? You had your chance—you could've disappeared for good, started over, lived some quiet life under a new name. But instead, you came back."

She stood slowly, circling the desk like a predator.

"Don't tempt me to finish what should've been done years ago. You want to join your family that badly? Just say the word."

Then, she paused, crouching slightly to meet Edel's glare.

"What do you want, really?"

Edel's breathing was ragged, but her glare remained sharp, defiant. Blood dripped from her temple, but she didn't flinch.

"Hah... Killing my family doesn't come without consequences either. I came back because people are dying—and you're behind it."

The woman gave a low, amused chuckle, standing upright again.

"Oh, Edel," the woman sighed mockingly. "You think you're some kind of savior? Clinging to this fantasy that you can fix the world—one corpse at a time?" She leaned in, her smile brittle. "You've spilled blood just like the rest of us. The only difference is you wrap yours in righteousness."

Edel smirked, blood at the corner of her mouth. "And you think your bloodshed means something? That's rich."

The woman's smile dropped, her tone sharpening as she dug her 4-inch high heels deep into Edel's calf, causing Edel to groan in pain. "Laugh all you want. But I have your friends. That van of yours? Seized. And the little computer program you worked so hard on?" She stepped back and let the words hang. "It'd be a shame if it was suddenly... eliminated. Along with the people you care about."

The woman snapped her fingers. One of the guards dragged a metal cart forward—a worn laptop sat atop it, hooked up to cables and external drives. Edel's eyes flicked to it instinctively. Her project.

"See? We've already begun poking around. But it's locked up tighter than a miser's wallet. You're going to help us unlock it."

Edel said nothing.

The woman sighed, dramatically disappointed. "Fine. Let's do it the hard way." She turned to the guard. "Bring in the footage."

A flat-screen monitor flickered to life behind her. Grainy surveillance video began to play—clips of Charlotte, Tabo, and Perchance being dragged, unconscious, into concrete rooms. One showed Charlotte tied to a chair, face bruised, eyes fluttering as she regained consciousness. Edel's jaw tensed.

"You're good at hiding emotion," the woman noted, circling Edel slowly. "But I've studied people like you. You break eventually. Usually for someone else, not yourself."

She leaned in close to Edel's ear. "Tell me the passcode, and I'll let your friends walk."

Edel stared straight ahead, her voice ice. "You'll kill them either way."

"Maybe," the woman whispered. "But how fast it happens... how painful it is... that's still up to you."

The silence that followed felt like a blade suspended in the air.

"Let's start simple," the woman said, returning to her seat and opening a notepad. "Tell me where the backups are. You kept copies of your program, didn't you?"

Edel didn't answer.

The woman gave a lazy nod to a guard. A sharp, electronic crack rang out as a cattle prod was pressed to Edel's side, sending a violent jolt through her.

She gasped, but still said nothing.

"You're very stubborn," the woman said. "But everyone talks eventually. Especially when they watch the people they love suffer."

She smiled again. "So. Let's see who cracks first—your friends, or you."

Edel let the pain ebb through her, her breathing ragged but controlled. She slumped slightly in the chair, eyes half-lidded, as if dazed. The woman leaned back, satisfied.

Then Edel chuckled. Low. Hollow. Intentional.

"What's funny?" the woman asked, arching a brow.

"You," Edel murmured. "All this effort. Kidnapping, interrogation, torture. And you still think this is about a passcode."

The woman's smile twitched.

"You're playing the wrong game," Edel said, lifting her head slowly. Her eyes burned with quiet defiance like shimmering amethyst orbs. "You think my program is just sitting idle, waiting to be cracked open? It's already doing exactly what I built it for."

Ebony's smug expression faltered. Her posture stiffened, shoulders squaring like a predator sensing a trap too late.

"You know why I let myself get caught?" Edel's voice cut through the air like a scalpel. "Because I needed access—to your systems. And now, here we are. Ebony Fantasma, in the flesh. How convenient." Her lip curled. "Now tell me—where's Greene?"

Ebony's eyes darkened, lips twitching as though biting back a curse. "You're bluffing."

Edel didn't blink. "Am I?"

Edel tilted her head. "You have my laptop, right? Then tell me—has it done anything... strange since you plugged it in? Like locking you out of your own network? Uploading itself onto nearby terminals? Maybe pinging coordinates?"

She smirked. "Because if it has, then your time's already up."

For the first time, Ebony's polished veneer cracked—just a flicker, a sharp breath, a flash of real fear behind her eyes.

"Check the system," she barked, whipping around to one of her guards.

Edel leaned back as far as the restraints would allow, her ribs flaring in pain. "La Maison Dieu," she murmured. "The tower falls."

Following her code words, her laptop sparked to life—then immediately began to overheat, its screen flickering with distorted symbols. A shrill whine followed, activating self-destruction. Seconds later, the device exploded in a blast of fire, shattered glass, and burnt plastic, forcing the guards to stumble back.

Chaos.

The building's sprinkler system activated, but the water pressure was insufficient to reach and extinguish the fire's source. As they rushed to stop the fire from spreading, Edel seized the moment. She let her head drop, hair cascading forward to mask her face. Her fingers, bloodied and trembling, worked furiously at the zip tie cutting into her wrists. Pain lanced through her arms as she twisted them at an unnatural angle.

The plastic stretched—strained—then began to give.

Ebony noticed and her voice cut through the smoke and static. "Stop her!"

Edel slammed her wrists down against the edge of the chair again—once, twice—until she heard the plastic snap. Pain flared through her arms as she yanked one hand free, then the other. Still bound at the ankles, she leaned forward and hurled her full weight into the chair, crashing it against the floor with a loud thud.

The guards spun around. "She's loose!"

Edel rolled with the momentum, using the metal chair back as a makeshift shield as one of the guards raised his rifle. She flung it toward him, catching him off guard, and dove for the nearest side table—grabbing a letter opener.

Not ideal, but it was something.

She slashed the zip tie at her ankles and bolted toward the door, ducking behind furniture as bullets shattered wood and glass around her. Ebony screamed orders, but Edel was already gone, sprinting into the corridor beyond.

Making sense of her surroundings, Edel's mind raced as she realized she was in a multi-story building.

Her friends could be anywhere, and the clock was ticking. As her eyes scanned the space, she deduced that she was likely on one of the top floors. The height of the building added an extra layer of complication—finding her friends would be nearly impossible if she didn't know the layout.

She took a steadying breath, forcing her panic aside, and began to move quickly down the corridor. The walls were lined with framed artwork and strange, oversized vinyl records displayed in a haphazard manner, some in glass cases, others pinned to the walls like decoration.

She brought me directly to Reaper Records? she wondered, a confused thought breaking through her focus. It felt out of place—like a strange mix of an old-school music store and some kind of quirky museum. But there was no time for curiosity.

The sound of footsteps behind her grew louder, drawing her attention back to the present. She didn't have much time before the henchmen caught up.

Footsteps pounded closer, their muffled voices bouncing off the concrete walls. She spotted a stairwell ahead and bolted for it, adrenaline surging.

On the next flight down, a henchman burst around the corner. He collided with her, knocking her against the railing. She grunted as he swung a punch, but Edel twisted free and drew the letter opener.

With a lightning-quick slash, she cut across his neck. He lurched backward, eyes wide, before collapsing in a spray of crimson.

Edel didn't pause. She yanked the rifle from his limp grasp and kept descending, each step echoing in the hollow stairwell. Her heart hammered—she needed to find her friends, but she didn't know where they could be. For all she'd know, they could be at an entirely different location.

She reached the next floor and quickly scanned the hallway. Empty. Her grip on the rifle tightened, her mind racing. What if they're somewhere else? What if I'm wasting time?

A sound behind her jolted her from her thoughts—the unmistakable stomp of boots. Her pursuers were gaining, but she couldn't risk spending additional time in one stairwell any more. There had to be something on this level, something that could give her a clue as to where her friends were.

Then, through the crack of a slightly ajar door, she saw it—flickering lights from inside a room. Edel moved quickly, slipping through the opening with the rifle raised, her heart pounding in her throat.

Inside, she saw a makeshift holding area, concrete walls lined with metal doors. Her eyes darted from one door to the next, desperately searching for any sign of her friends.

Please be here.

Edel crept closer, her footsteps silent on the cold concrete floor. She peered through the bars of the nearest door, scanning the darkened interior for any sign of movement. A chill ran down her spine as her eyes adjusted to the dim light filtering in from a lone overhead bulb. Nothing.

But then she heard a soft shuffle, a barely audible noise coming from the next cell. Edel's pulse quickened as she approached, her breath held in anticipation. As she peered through the bars again, she saw a figure slumped against the wall, barely conscious, but still alive.

"Tabo," she whispered, her heart lifting for a moment.

She didn't hesitate—she needed to get him out. Gripping the rifle tightly, she stepped back, glancing quickly at the rest of the hallway. The guards were still searching elsewhere, but it wouldn't be long before they circled back. She needed to hurry.

Edel silently approached the door to Tabo's cell and checked the lock. It was a simple padlock, but the key was nowhere in sight. Her mind raced—she wasn't sure how much time she had before the henchmen returned.

She scanned the room around her for anything useful. A rusted metal pipe caught her eye—just the right length for breaking the lock. She grabbed it and forced the end of it against the latch, using all her strength to twist and pry.

Seconds passed like hours, but finally, with a soft snap, the lock gave way. She pushed the door open and rushed inside.

"Tabo, hey, wake up!" Edel whispered urgently, kneeling beside him. He stirred, his head lifting slowly, eyes bloodshot but alert.

"Edel...?" His voice was hoarse, barely audible. "You... you found me."

"I'm getting you out of here, but we need to move fast," she replied, helping him to his feet.

He staggered, still unsteady from his captivity, but managed to hold his own as Edel supported him.

"Where's Charlotte? Perchance?" he asked, his voice full of concern.

"I don't know. But we'll find them. Let's go." Edel scanned the hallway again, her instincts telling her time was running out. The sound of boots grew louder in the distance.

Edel and Tabo moved quickly through the darkened hallways, each footstep echoing in the narrow corridor. The only sound louder than their own breathing was the distant thump of boots from the guards searching the upper floors.

As they rounded a corner, Edel's heart raced when she spotted a group of three guards ahead of them. They were walking in their direction, oblivious to their presence—at least, for now.

"Stay behind me," Edel whispered to Tabo, keeping her rifle close. She didn't have the luxury of thinking about strategy; it was just survival. She had to act fast.

With a quick hand signal, Edel motioned for Tabo to stay low as she moved into position. The rifle felt heavy in her hands, but her grip was steady. She needed to take them down quickly before they could alert the others.

The guards turned the corner, and Edel wasted no time. She dropped to a knee, aiming at the closest one and squeezing the trigger. The rifle's shot rang out, sharp and loud in the otherwise quiet hall, striking one guard in the chest before he had time to react.

The second guard immediately reached for his sidearm, but Edel was faster. She ducked behind the corner, her body moving on instinct as she took another shot. The second guard dropped, his weapon clattering to the floor.

But the third guard was quicker. He managed to raise his gun, firing in their direction. The bullet grazed Edel's shoulder, causing her to wince in pain, but she pushed through it. She fired once more, the shot landing square in the guard's chest.

As he crumpled to the floor, silence returned, broken only by the sound of Edel's ragged breathing and the soft shuffle of Tabo moving cautiously behind her.

"That's two down," Edel muttered, wiping the sweat from her forehead. She glanced at Tabo, who looked pale but determined.

"Let's move," Tabo whispered, his voice barely audible. "They won't be alone for long."

Edel nodded, her eyes scanning the hall. They couldn't afford to stay in one place for too long. As they hurried toward the next set of doors, Edel's mind raced. They were close, she could feel it. Charlotte and Perchance weren't far.

But they weren't safe yet.

The moment they stepped through the doorway, they found themselves in a larger room. Low light spilled in from cracked windows, revealing shelves filled with old, dusty crates and equipment. But there was no time to admire the surroundings. A group of four more guards was stationed at the far side of the room, blocking the path to the exit.

"We can't go back," Edel muttered, taking cover behind a crate. "We're going to have to fight our way through."

Tabo gave a terse nod, his hand gripping the metal pipe he had managed to snatch earlier.

"Ready?" Edel asked, her breath steadying despite the blood now trickling down her arm from the graze.

"Ready," Tabo replied, his eyes steely.

Edel peeked out from behind the crate, gauging the distance between them and the guards. She had to move fast, but with the odds against them, every second counted.

She turned to Tabo. "On my mark... we go."

As the guards continued to talk among themselves, unaware of the threat closing in, Edel whispered, "Three... two... one."

With that, she bolted from her cover, firing a shot at one of the guards, who staggered backward, giving

Tabo the opening he needed. He lunged forward, using his makeshift weapon to knock a guard off balance and take him down with a well-placed hit.

Edel kept the pressure on, unloading another round into the guard closest to her, but there were still too many. The last two rushed toward her with weapons drawn, and she ducked behind another crate for cover.

"Tabo, help!" Edel shouted, as one of the guards advanced on her position.

Tabo wasted no time, throwing the metal pipe across the room to create a loud noise on the far side. The guards' attention wavered for a moment, enough for Edel to make her move.

She popped up from behind cover and fired, catching one of the guards in the shoulder, and immediately turned to the last one. Her shot was precise, and with a sharp exhale, the last guard crumpled to the floor.

"Thank you." Panting, she turned to Tabo. "We're almost there. I know it."

They rounded another corner—this hallway narrower, the lights flickering above—and Edel's breath caught when she heard faint, muffled voices through one of the doors up ahead.

"Wait," she whispered, throwing a hand out in front of Tabo to stop him. Her eyes narrowed on the reinforced metal door. A low hum of equipment vibrated from behind it, along with the sound of someone groaning softly.

"That's them," she said, already moving.

The door had a padlock on it, to which Edel broke with the shot of her rifle. Edel burst in, rifle raised—only to immediately lower it when she saw them.

Charlotte was slumped in a chair, bruised and pale but conscious. Her wrists were bound to the armrests, and her ankles to the legs of the chair. Perchance sat across from her, looking worse—his face swollen from a hit, and his left arm hanging awkwardly. He had been keeping up a half-hearted grin, which seemed uncanny given the state of things.

"Edel!" Charlotte gasped, her eyes wide with disbelief. "How—"

"No time," Edel said quickly, rushing forward to cut through the zip ties on Charlotte's wrists. "Can you walk?"

Charlotte winced but nodded. "Barely. But I'll manage."

Tabo freed Perchance, who let out a breathless, dry laugh. "You came back. I thought—" He grimaced. "Never mind what I thought. It's good to see your face."

"We're not out yet," Edel said, her tone sharp but not unkind. "There are more guards. Reinforcements will be sweeping the floors soon. We need to get to the ground level and out before they lock down the exits."

Perchance clutched his wrists since the zip ties had left burning red marks on his skin. "Ouch, that hurt."

Edel helped support Charlotte while Tabo assisted Perchance. The four of them crept back into the corridor, bloodied, bruised, but together.

They rounded a corner—and Edel cursed under her breath.

Four guards blocked the hallway, rifles already raised.

"Move!" she snapped, shoving Charlotte and Perchance behind her. She dropped to one knee and opened fire. The corridor lit up with the flash of gunfire, the shots deafening in the narrow space. One by one, the guards fell, their bodies crumpling against the walls. Smoke and blood thickened the air.

Breathing hard, Edel motioned for them to keep moving.

They were just one floor from the ground level when a sharp click behind them froze her mid-step.

A fifth guard, previously unseen, had flanked them—his gun aimed directly at Charlotte.

Time slowed.

"Charlotte—!" Edel shouted.

But Tabo moved first.

In a split second, he lunged, pushing Charlotte aside just as the gun fired.

The shot rang out.

Tabo stumbled, the impact folding him forward. He collapsed to his knees, hands instinctively clutching his stomach where the blood began to bloom.

"No!" Charlotte screamed, rushing to him.

The guard adjusted his aim, now pointing the barrel at Tabo's head.

Edel didn't hesitate. One clean shot—straight between the eyes—and the guard dropped.

Thud.

Tabo gasped, trying to hold the blood in, but it slipped through his fingers. It was bad—too bad.

"Go," he rasped. "Leave me. I'm slowing you down."

"We're not leaving you, Tabo!" Charlotte cried, her hands trembling as she pressed them to his wound. "We're almost out. Please—just hang on!"

Tabo reached up weakly, brushing her hand with his. "You've gotta live. Get out. That's enough for me."

Edel scanned their surroundings. Shadows moved at the end of the corridor—more guards, converging fast. They were surrounded.

Rifle raised, blood rushing in her ears, Edel did the only thing she could.

She stood in front of her friends—over Tabo, over Charlotte, over Perchance—her jaw clenched and finger tightening on the trigger.

If they wanted them, they'd have to go through her.

The guards didn't shoot.

They stood in rigid silence, weapons raised, awaiting orders. The only sound was the labored breathing of the wounded and the faint echo of approaching heels.

Then she appeared—cool, poised, and perfectly in control. Ebony stepped through the line of armed men like a queen surveying the aftermath of a skirmish.

"Well, well," she said, voice smooth as silk. "Looks like the game's over. You put up a good chase, Edel. I'll give you that. But unfortunately... you don't get to run this time."

Edel kept her rifle up, though her stance trembled slightly—blood soaked through her jacket where the earlier bullet had grazed her arm. She sneered through the pain. "Then what are you waiting for? Kill me and get it over with."

The woman clicked her tongue and gave a mocking smile. "Kill you? Now why would I waste such talent?"

She walked closer, heels echoing against the concrete, until she was just out of Edel's reach.

"I've seen what are capable of. You've killed several of my men despite being outnumbered. But you could be so much more. An asset. A boogeyman. You could be one of the best assassins Rhett has ever seen. And your little tech project? That alone puts you in a class above the rest. It's too valuable to toss aside... as are you."

Edel's jaw clenched. "I'd rather die than work for scum like you."

Ebony raised an eyebrow. "Brave words from someone bleeding out and cornered."

"In case you were still holding onto some ridiculous inkling hope of getting out of here alive..." Ebony held up a small device between her fingers, her smile sinister. "Let me bring that back down to zero."

Firmly, she pressed the red button.

A deafening boom rocked the air. Through the shattered remnants of a nearby window, smoke billowed into the sky. The sound of twisting metal and cracking glass followed by a roar of flames in the distance.

"That," she said coolly, "was your little van."

Edel didn't flinch. Blood trickled down her arm, staining her sleeve deeper, but her eyes remained locked on Ebony, amethyst eyes peering into the soul of sapphires. "Your hope of making me work for you is zero," she said flatly. "All that's left for you now is to kill me."

Ebony chuckled, stepping closer. "You really are a Monclerchanteau. So stubborn. So proud." Her smile turned cold. "Before you die, though... I'll give you something."

She leaned in slightly, just enough to let the words hit hard.

"I didn't have much to do with your family's murder. That was... political." A pause. "Your father, the mayor, made enemies. Started cracking down on organized crime like he thought he was invincible." She gave a small, mocking sigh. "Greene wouldn't shut up about it. And eventually, Rhett decided enough was enough."

Her gaze sharpened. "You want to know who really gave the order? It wasn't me. It was your father's own war against people like us that got them all killed."

Then, Ebony was handed a pistol from one of her henchmen and leveled it directly at Edel's forehead. The metal gleamed cold under the flickering lights.

"No!" Charlotte's voice broke with panic as she cried. Her hands were covered in blood from pressing Tabo's wound. Tabo's time was running out.

Ebony glanced sideways, almost amused. "Maybe I'll start with your friends," she said smoothly. "Let you watch them die one by one. So you understand—there are consequences for what you've done."

She stepped closer to Edel, her finger resting lightly on the trigger. "That's the thing about people like you," she said, her eyes piercing into Edel's own. "The rich always think they're untouchable. That money and power will shield them from the real world. But they always want more. More control. More power. They couldn't just be comfortable with what they had. And bit by bit, they get pulled into games they never should've played."

She cocked the hammer. "But you're not playing anymore, Edel. You've lost."

"Is working with dark magic a game you want to play?" Edel scoffed, her voice hoarse but biting, remembering what the henchman told her before she stabbed him in the eye. "I don't think that'll end well for you either."

Despite the growing weakness and the trail of blood down her arm, Edel maintained a steady aim with her rifle. Her sights locked on Ebony's forehead. But before she could pull the trigger, a sharp jolt surged through her body—one of the guards had slammed a cattle prod into her ribs. Her limbs seized, and she collapsed to the ground, her weapon clattering from her grasp.

"Did I ask?" Ebony uttered.

In one swift, merciless motion, Ebony turned and fired a single shot into Tabo's skull. The crack of the gun echoed like a thunderclap.

Blood and brain matter splattered across Charlotte's face. She let out a raw, strangled scream, stumbling back, her hands shaking uncontrollably. Perchance froze, color draining from his face. "Oh shit," he whispered, eyes wide as saucers.

Ebony turned, raising her gun to Charlotte—ready to fire again.

But before she could pull the trigger, a blinding flash of light filled the room.

"Gah! What the hell was that!?" she shouted, shielding her eyes.

Thick, black smoke poured into the space—odorless, cold, and swirling with strange pinpricks of starlight that shimmered like a night sky ripped open.

Then, a grunt cut through the haze.

A staff swung out of the shadows and cracked hard across Ebony's temple. She crumpled to the floor without a sound.

The smoke began to thin, revealing the aftermath: Ebony unconscious, her gun lying useless beside her. Tabo lay nearby, his lifeless face turned upward, the wound in his head brutal and final.

Charlotte fell to her knees beside him. "Tabo... no..." she whispered, voice cracking. Her trembling fingers hovered over his chest, unable to accept his loss of life.

Edel stared in horror, her breath caught in her throat. Even the guards couldn't believe what they were seeing, their faces pale and slack with awe and disbelief.

The guards opened fire on the intruder, but the masked figure moved like smoke and shadow—his staff twirling with uncanny precision, deflecting bullets mid-air. Sparks flew. The shots stopped, but all the guards in the room dropped dead in mere seconds, shot with their own bullets.

"You... must get out of h—"

Edel spun toward the voice, instincts flaring. She snatched Ebony's pistol from the ground and aimed it at a pair of glowing eyes in the dark corner of the room.

"Don't move!" she barked. "Show yourself. Now!"

The figure stepped forward slowly, one hand raised in surrender, the other gripping a staff. He wore a mask—sleek, ominous, like the ones worn by the Maskers.

"A Masker?" Edel hissed, finger twitching on the trigger.

"I'm not what you think," the voice was calm, almost reverent. "I am a traitor. The Judas among them. And you... you are my priests and soldiers."

"We are not your ally," Edel snapped.

"But you must be. Without me, you'll die trying to escape. All of you." His voice softened. "It's not too late for your friend."

"He's dead," Charlotte whispered, holding Tabo's limp body. "He's gone."

The masked figure turned his head slightly. "So was Lazarus. Yet he returned in four days. I can bring your friend back in four minutes. But we must leave—before the sinners return."

Edel's aim didn't waver. "You still haven't told me who the hell you are."

"I am Iscar," he said. "An exile. Look upon the ruin of my mask—broken, because I chose the left path." He extended his staff, light glinting off the cracked porcelain. "I told you all that must be known. The rest is choice."

Silence held the room.

Edel's jaw clenched, gun still trained on him. She didn't trust him—but something about him didn't match the others. His presence was strange, yes—but not entirely hostile.

Perchance stepped closer. "Edel... I don't like his vibes either, but he could've killed us already. Maybe... this is our only shot."

Edel took a breath, eyes never leaving Iscar. Her hand trembled, blood loss taking its toll, but her voice was iron.

"Fine. We go with you. But if you're lying..." She cocked the gun. "I'll be the one sending you to meet Lazarus."

Iscar nodded once. "Then let us begin."

Iscar lowered his hands and strode toward a door at the far end of the room. "There are 167 more beyond this point," he said, matter-of-fact. "I can't clear them all alone—someone carry your fallen friend. The rest of you, be ready. You'll need to handle the stragglers."

He pushed the door open, revealing a dimly lit corridor—and two guards standing watch.

In a blink, Iscar vanished into the shadows.

A split second later, he reappeared between the guards like a specter, his staff plunging clean through both their chests. They dropped without a sound. Then, just as quickly, he vanished again into the darkness.

"Go!" Edel barked, snapping into motion. She took point, guiding the others as they scrambled to lift Tabo's body. Charlotte and Perchance each took one of his arms, struggling to keep him steady as they followed Edel's lead.

She pressed herself against the wall at the corner of a hallway, peering around the edge.

More bodies.

Two guards lay sprawled on the floor, blood pooling beneath them. A third stumbled forward from a side corridor, eyes wide with shock—only to drop dead a heartbeat later as Iscar's staff retracted from his chest and disappeared back into the shadows.

Edel swallowed hard.

Whatever Iscar was... he wasn't bluffing.

Edel's grip tightened around her weapon as she watched the last body hit the ground. The full extent of his abilities was still unknown, and that uncertainty unnerved her more than she'd admit. If a single rogue Masker could carve through trained guards like phantoms in a nightmare ... what were they truly capable of at full strength? How much bloodshed were they going to spill?

She shivered—not from fear, but from the creeping realization that she'd only scratched the surface of what they truly were.

She had faced Maskers before—ritualistic killers in masks and robes, moving with eerie coordination and wielding blades like zealots. They'd felt like a cult drunk on illusion and theatrics. But what Iscar had done wasn't a trick. It was something else entirely. Something darker. Something real.

Where had they come from?

And more terrifyingly—what exactly did they want?

Her heart sank. What chance did she—a mortal with blood, bone, and bullets—have against beings wielding supernatural dark magic? Guns were nearly useless when your enemy could turn to smoke, slip through walls, and kill in the space between heartbeats. Hand-to-hand combat against someone like Iscar? Laughable, when their bodies seemed made of shadows and vapor.

She'd always known the Maskers were dangerous, but this—this was something else entirely. If she wanted any hope of defeating them, she'd need more than grit and firepower. She'd need something darker. Something to match their power.

If Iscar truly was a traitor to their cause... maybe, just maybe, he could be the weapon she needed.

Iscar reappeared in flashes of black vapor, moving through the corridors like a curse unleashed. When they reached a heavily guarded level, he stood alone before the squad, lifted his staff, and tapped it once against the ground.

The lights died.

The world went black.

And in that darkness, screams were torn from lungs, sharp and sudden, followed by sickening gurgles and then—men dropped to the floor like flies.

The lights flickered back on.

Blood slicked the floor. Bodies collapsed like broken marionettes. In the middle of the carnage, Iscar hunched over his staff, chest heaving.

"I am... exhausted," he rasped, voice shaky. "And there are still many more ahead."

He lifted one trembling arm, fingers curling inwards as shadow tendrils rose around the group like curling smoke.

"I will send you all to a safe place," he said. "I'll meet you there."

Edel gave a small nod. The others gathered close, with Charlotte steadying Tabo.

As the shadows curled tighter, swallowing them one by one, she took one last look at Iscar—wounded, drained, and yet still standing.

And then darkness took her.