Fionn's legs carried him faster than his lungs could keep up. His breath tore ragged from his throat, his small shoes slapping against the stairwell as he bounded down floor after floor.
The world around him was nothing but echo and blur.
His thoughts trailed behind him, jagged and breathless, struggling to catch the pace of his body.
Ruben saved me.
He could still feel the tremor of the shamrock inside him, the weight of it pressing against his chest, choking him from within. Then he remembered the moment it came out, bright, golden and alive.
It had shimmered between his lips, no larger than a paperclip, then bloomed into something vast, he had thought it would consume him. But then it was gone. Ruben had saved him. Ruben pulled it out of him.
And now all he could do was run. Run because Ruben told him to. Run because the lounge was safety from Tibo. Run because he was small and couldn't fight, but he could at least survive.
His sneakers scuffed against the first floor landing, his chest heaving. The corridor stretched out ahead, familiar in a way that made his stomach twist. He slowed. His gaze snagged on the door halfway down.
This was the room his father was found in.
His knees buckled into a stumble as he drifted toward it. His hands lifted, trembling and pressed against the wood. Cool. Unyielding. He leaned forward until his forehead rested against it.
A thin ache swelled in his chest. He hadn't cried when Ruben told him to talk about his father. He had fought back tears as best as he could back then. But here, nothing but the wood separating him from where his father's body lay, it was harder. He could smell faint traces of soap, even in the hall, lingering with the final smell of finality.
"I wish I knew you better." He whispered, his words muffled against the door.
For a moment, he stayed there, head bowed, letting the storm's distant thrum and the silence of the corridor press against him. Then he drew a shaky breath, pulled his hand away, and turned.
And ran again.
Down the next flight, the walls narrowing, the lights flickering faintly, the air growing thicker with the smell of damp carpet and dust. He pressed on until the stairs spat him out onto the ground floor. His eyes darted wildly until they locked on the double doors of the lounge.
Closed.
Fionn's steps slowed. His heart thundered in his chest. His small hand rose, palm flattening against his shirt, right hand above his heart. He squeezed his eyes shut.
Please let Ruben be alright. Please.
The prayer was silent, but it pulsed in him like a promise.
Then, with a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding, he pushed the door open.
Gasps greeted him.
Marta shot to her feet, her eyes wide, her hand pressed over her mouth. "Fionn…?" Her voice broke on his name, thick with disbelief.
Annelise rose too, her face paling, her hands clutching the hem of her coat as if steadying herself. "You… you're alive?"
The sight of their faces, surprise, relief, confusion, it was too much. Fionn tried to answer, tried to shape words with his tongue, but nothing came. His throat caught, his chest clenched, and his eyes blurred as the tears finally broke free.
The weight of everything finally started to crash down. He stood trembling at the doorway as the door behind him shut silently and tears streamed down his face.
***
The streets were a river of broken reflections, and thunder rolled deep, shaking through the stone foundations.
Kade skidded to a stop, boots splashing through the waterlogged street. Lea nearly crashed into him before catching herself.
The hotel loomed ahead, its windows were pitch black. But atop the building is what made her chest seize.
It was suspended in the storm-churned sky, the Phantasm hung like some grotesque star. Its body was hulking, a swollen shadow of flesh and scale, its form swaying on invisible currents.
From its head jutted the unmistakable lure, and anglerfish's glowing bulb, casting down a ghastly light over the hotel's roof. The radiance pierced the storm, so bright, staining the clouds with an unnatural pallor.
Lea swallowed hard. "It's… it's right on top of it…"
The same girl with the blazing red hair, Rosette St. Jon was there, her hair plastered on her cheek, rain dripping down her jaw as she watched. Elise Vogel stood just behind her, her gaze never leaving the building.
Kade's voice cut through the storm, calm but sharpened with urgency. "It's evolving." His coat whipped with the wind as he turned his head slightly, still keeping his eyes locked on the phantasm. "Right now, it's in a stage between forms. If we don't have the firepower to outright kill it then we should find and break the anchors it has set."
Rosette flickered her eyes toward him, lips pressed into a thin line. "Anchors?"
Kade nodded. "Think of it like… keys. They tie the domain to this place, pinning the cage shut. If we find both keys and destroy them, the domain collapses and then we can fight it at an equal level."
If there were someone with the firepower right now to attack then they could physically veer it off course and the anchors would just diminish, leaving the Phantasm to just attack.
But there were other factors Kade was thinking of.
Rosette glanced at her mentor Elise, searching her face. Elise gave a single nod, her silver hair catching the flash of a bolt above.
Kade continued. "There are two… usually two. One would be outside the domain and one inside. Since we have no access inside the hotel where the second one is, we need to find the outside one and destroy that first."
Elise drew in a breath, turning back to Rosette. "Then we split. You search the ground while I head up."
Rosette hesitated only for a second before she returned the nod. "Okay."
Kade gave them a firm look, rain dripping from his brow. "Be careful. It's not going to give those anchors up easily."
Rosette's red hair flicked as she turned, striding toward the hotel's main entrance, her boots striking sharp against the flooded ground. Elise pivoted the other way, cutting through the storm, her movements smooth and deliberate.
Lea shivered slightly, the absence of their presence making the storm feel louder. She looked up at Kade, voice small but steady. "So… what do we do?"
Kade's eyes followed where Rosette and Elise went on to, then they lifted to the looming beast above, its glowing lure burning into the rain like a false star.
"We stick together." He said. His tone was blunt, commanding. "Those two are strong, they'll probably find the anchor in a moment and then as soon as they do we make sure to rush in first and grab the two boys and create an exit for them."
Lea drew in a breath and nodded, her hands clasping once. "Alright."
***
The cut across Tibo's cheek was shallow, but the sight of blood on his otherwise pristine face landed like a victory all on its own.
Corbin's grin was wide, a harsh sound bursting from his chest, half laugh, half taunt. "Look at you," he jeered, shoulders rising as if in mock celebration. "The pro assassin losing to some fuckin punks. Not so untouchable."
The room seemed still. The storm outside dulled to a distant thrum. And in that silence, something shifted.
It poured out of Tibo in waves, an oppressive, suffocating weight that made the chandeliers sway and the air feel heavier with every breath. His bloodlust. It swallowed the space, saturating every corner of the dining hall in a dark, metallic pressure that clawed down their spines.
Ruben felt his gut coil as he lowered his stance. Corbin rolled his shoulders back, jaw tightening.
But then Tibo straightened, pulling it back in with a steady exhale. The gleam on his glasses caught the light as he muttered. "Surprising. Truly surprising."
He lifted his hand, brushing the blood from his cheek with the back of his finger. His voice cut sharp through the still air. "I'd thought it best to hold myself back. Conserve my energy. Make sure I had the strength left to vanish when the Paladin arrived." His tone dropped, flat and hard.
"But now? I regret that decision. Seems I'll have to treat you two with some more seriousness."
The dragon that had scarred him gave a low growl. In the blink of an eye, it was torn apart, split neatly down the middle by nothing more than Tibo's elongated fingernail, sharp as a scalpel.
And then he was gone.
Ruben spun, instincts screaming. A glint sliced past his cheek, thin, metallic and sharp. He dropped into a roll just as the wired end of an earplug snapped into the pillar where his head had been.
Tibo blurred again, the scrape of his shoes skittering across the floor as he reappeared close. Ruben darted backward, shoulder brushing Corbin's. They fell back-to-back, breath syncing, eyes scouring the air for the next movement.
And then he was on them.
Tibo appeared between them with surgical precision, hands flashing outward. His palms struck their chests, a force like battering rams hurling them apart. They spun back into motion, pivoting, fists flying in unison toward his body and skull, only to hit emptiness.
A shadow flitted above.
They looked up too late. Tibo hung inverted in the air, legs splayed wide. His heels snapped out in a vicious split-kick, catching both boys across the sternum. Ruben's back cracked into a marble pillar, dust raining down. Corbin skidded across the carpet, shoulder gouging the floor.
Ruben braced, but the warning came in a whistle of air. A toothpick slammed into the pillar where his head had been, embedding itself deep. Three more shot like darts. He vaulted upward, but two clipped his jumper and the third drove him against the wall, pinning his sleeve through fabric and flesh.
On the other side, Corbin roared, charging. Tibo met him with nothing but his fists. Their blows collided in a furious rhythm, Corbin hammering forward, every strike heavy as falling stone.
Tibo's hands moved like flowing water, palms and wrists diverting each punch with minimal motion. His counters came cruel, a sharp jab into Corbin's ribs, an elbow snapping against his jawline, a sudden knee diving up beneath his chin.
Corbin's head whipped back, blood spraying from his lip. Tibo's fingers shot forward, hooked to gouge his eyes, only for a dragon to rip through the floor and intercept, its fangs closing on his wrist.
Tibo twisted small, vanishing into a flicker of nothing, then reappeared at the dragon's flank. His nail lengthened in a single breath and he split the beast cleanly down the middle, ichor bursting into sparks before fading away.
Ruben rejoined, launching downward, fist cocked like a hammer. Tibo pivoted, slipped aside, and drove his foot into Ruben's stomach. Pain exploded through him, but he grabbed the edge of a table mid-fall, flipped with the momentum, and lashed out with a clawed hand.
Tibo caught the strike on his wrist, turned and spun with brutal grace. His heel whipped around, crashing into Ruben's back and slamming him down through the table. Wood detonated into splinters, which stretched, sharpened and stabbed into Ruben's side like a nest of glass needles.
His groan came strangled, his hand clawing at the floor as the sting burned through him.
Corbin forced himself up, his boots pounding the carpet. The ground shuddered under the force he exerted as he stepped forward in a quick dash. He leapt, fist cocked to obliterate.
But Tibo flicked his gaze to the ground. A scattering of screws trembled, then ballooned into spikes. One lanced straight through Corbin's foot mid-air, blood gushing as he stumbled.
The assassin was there in an instant. Two silver trays shimmered into his hands. With one swift clap, he slammed them against Corbin's skull. The metal warped, ballooning around his head before he could wrench free.
Tibo's boot followed through, punting him across the chest. Corbin crashed into the wall, plaster crumbling on impact.
The room fell still but for the storm's distant fury. Tibo's voice was quiet, cold, but it carried like a blade. "Do you see the difference in our experience?"
Ruben coughed, dragging himself half upright, splinters still sticking from his side. He braced his palms on the shattered floorboards, but Tibo descended again, slamming him back down with a single stomp to the chest. His ribs screamed.
Corbin, nose bloodied and lips torn, rasped through clenched teeth. "That difference doesn't feel so big." His chest rose in a shudder, his glare was defiant. "Sooner or later, I'll have to face this anyway. Because I'm going to become the Warlord of Ostara. I'll take it and move past everyone in my way."
For the first time, Tibo laughed. Low at first, then rolling and sharp, filling the silence. He adjusted his glasses, a smirk breaking his composure.
"Your power is strong. I'll admit that. But a dumb brute like you?" His head tilted, eyes narrowing. "Give up on dreams like that. The world's strongest man isn't a title won by swinging little fists in anger."
The walls rumbled. Dust sifted from the ceiling. The chandelier trembled.
Tibo's gaze flicked upward. His voice dropped low, almost amused. "One of the anchors has been destroyed."
He stepped back, shaking his head as if scolding fate itself. "The Paladin are closing in. I don't have the time to kill you tonight."
In a blink, he was perched on the window frame, the storm's howl at his back. He shaped his fingers into a gun, thumb cocked, index extended. A childish gesture made chilling by the malice behind it.
"Enjoy." He muttered. "Bye-bye."
A sharp stab pierced Ruben's left hand. He screamed, raw, scratchy, eyes darting down to see a needle swollen to the size of a spike rammed through his palm. Another burst from his ankle, driving white pain much greater than the one in his hand. The pain shot up his right leg.
"Ruben!" Corbin staggered forward, panic surging through his battered frame.
The door burst open.
"RUBEN! CORBIN!"