Sinus shouted, "HEIDE!"
He didn't know what fate awaited him. Whether he would survive this, or end up broken on the floor, didn't matter. He didn't have the time to care.
A punch crashed into his gut.
His body folded with a choked cough, breath torn out of him as he stumbled back, gasping for air that wouldn't come. His lungs burned. His vision spun. But even through that, he looked up. He refused to fall.
He launched a punch at Carrisius.
But the next second, Carrisius was gone.
How?
What is that? What is that artifact…?
Sinus couldn't understand.
Each time he threw a punch—again and again—Carrisius stood right there, just a few feet away. But every hit missed.
They didn't touch.
They didn't phase through.
They just… didn't reach.
It made no sense.
It was like his fists were being denied by the world itself. Like Carrisius existed somewhere just outside his grasp.
Sinus's thoughts blurred. This wasn't something he could wrap his head around.
It was beyond him.
"IS THAT ALL YOU GOT? COME ON, SHOW ME A LOT MORE!"
Carrisius's voice was wild, manic, tearing through the air as the next barrage came.
Sinus tried to guard. He couldn't.
There was no rhythm. No pattern. Nothing he could respond to.
He was being hit from all sides, and none of it could be stopped.
A gunshot.
Sinus had pulled the trigger on instinct.
Carrisius dodged it. Effortlessly.
Sinus froze.
How?
---
Shalap was crouched in the corner, breath held, as all the guards rushed into the castle.
Then—BOOM.
A deafening explosion. Glass shattered somewhere above.
She flinched. Her Clarion-enhanced hearing picked up more than she wanted to hear.
"HEIDE!"
Sinus. That was Sinus's voice.
Her eyes widened. She got low and darted toward the castle, careful to stay out of sight. If anyone saw her, she was dead.
The castle was massive—sprawling like a maze, ceilings too high, halls too wide. Everything echoed. The deeper she ran, the more twisted it felt. Then—footsteps.
A group. Fast, armed, coming her way.
She ducked behind a pillar, holding her breath.
The group passed, but two stopped nearby.
"Gabriel, WHY did you stop? We need to help the captain."
"Shut up, Mackie. I'm sure Captain will win anyway. We just need to make sure to kill anybody else while the Captain deals with the guy with the gun. Just go find the kid who fell out and confirm if he's alive."
"Uhh, sure… but what are you going to do?" Mackie asked.
"What I do is none of your business. Get out," Gabriel said.
Mackie left.
Gabriel turned toward the pillar.
Shalap froze.
"Stop hiding. I know you're there."
Her whole body stiffened.
Slowly, Shalap stepped out from behind the pillar, hands raised, trembling.
"Please don't kill me. I really don't have anything…"
"You a noble? How did you escape the cells?" Gabriel asked, voice sharp.
"Oh—yeah, sorry about that. Can you take me ba—"
She didn't finish.
A knife slammed into her chest.
Her breath caught. Her eyes widened in horror. She tried to scream—
A brutal kick crashed into her face.
Her nose broke with a sickening crunch.
She flew back, slamming into the pillar behind her. Pain screamed through her spine.
She gasped, mouth wide, tears already falling. She clutched her chest, her body curling as Gabriel approached.
"You think? You're a Clarion user like me. Clarion users have a different smell than normal people—so don't think you can fool me."
He grabbed her by the hair, yanking her head up.
"Stop crying."
Her eyes met his.
She stopped.
Not because she wanted to. Because she couldn't breathe. Couldn't think.
Her heartbeat roared in her ears. She was terrified.
This was it.
She was going to die.
If only… if only there was someone.
Shalap heard screams.
They were coming from below—raw, panicked screams. People crying out in fear.
She knew that sound. It was the same sound caught in her own throat.
People were scared. Just like her.
Then what was the difference between them and her?
What is the difference?
She had joined the Taskhand for a reason. She wanted to become strong. She had told herself she'd fight, that she'd stand tall when the time came.
But here she was. Crying. Helpless.
What's the difference, then? If I'm just like them… if I break the same way, cry the same way…
She had learned nothing.
Gars was right. She was too young. Too soft. She had thought she could be more—but it was her own carelessness that led her here.
Who was she to ask for help?
She was a burden.
A scared little girl pretending to be brave.
Who was she to help anyone if she couldn't even stand?
Her mind spun. Her body ached. Pain pulsed through her chest, her nose, her back.
A child being beaten down, so brutally even a grown man would've begged for mercy.
This was it.
Her story would end here.
No one was coming.
No hand would reach for her.
She was going to die like this.
Alone.
With no one to save her.