The moment Mischa snapped her fingers, chaos erupted. Bullets whizzed through the air, the sound so jarring it sent dust cascading from the chandeliers above.
Sévon's eyes went wide.
"TAURA! ESME! LOKEI ,TO ME! NOW!"
There was no hesitation. They could feel the urgency in his voice. Esme glided to his left, while Lokei positioned himself to the right, arms crossed in a defensive stance. Taura ducked behind him, her tail twitching with fear. The floor splintered as bullets tore through the marble, sparks flying like furious fireworks.
Sévon took a sharp breath, grounding himself as he drew in the very air around him.
His aura flared to life.
"Reflecting Hurl!"
A fierce whirlwind erupted around them, spiraling upward like a divine tempest. The tornado engulfed the bullets mid-flight, the swirling barrier howling as metal scraped violently against the vortex.
The dolls kept firing, their magazines emptying with a chilling precision. But every bullet was caught, drawn into the furious spiral above Sévon's head.
Esme watched in awe. "Holy—this is actually insane!"
Lokei muttered, "That's exactly why he's the leader of Team Crow…"
Taura clamped her hands over her ears and screamed, "IT'S TOO LOUD—TOO LOUD—TOO LOUD—!!"
In that moment, the dolls ran out of ammo. But the tornado didn't relent. Sévon's eyes snapped open, glowing faintly.
"Return to sender."
The vortex twisted downward, hurling every single captured bullet back across the hall. A storm of steel ripped through the mansion. Walls crumbled. Pillars shattered. Porcelain dolls burst like delicate glass stars. The entire hall was engulfed in a whirlwind of debris, exploding marble, and raining porcelain shards.
Mischa's voice rang out from above, a mix of amusement and delight:
"Ohhhh my~! You boys are really bringing the heat today!"
Sévon lowered his hand, the tornado dissipating in a final gust. He exhaled, sweat trickling down his temple.
"Everyone," he said slowly, "get ready."
The dust settled. Dozens of the broken dolls began to twitch, their pieces pulling together like a twisted puzzle piecing itself back into form. Mischa let out a giggle.
"Round two?"
Meanwhile at the other side of the Abyssal Reign mansion, Assad took off down the corridor, his boots thudding against the polished marble as bullets zipped past his ears.
"TODAY IS NOT MY DAY WHY IS THIS THING AIMING FOR MY HEAD?!"
Each shot slammed into the walls beside him, sending chunks of plaster and marble flying into his face. He ducked, rolled, and zig-zagged like a frantic cockroach.
"BRO, THEY GOT AIMBOT, THIS ISN'T FAIR!!"
Another barrage ripped through the air behind him.
He dove sideways, his shoulder crashing into a long dining table set with silver plates and glass cups. The impact sent everything toppling over, and Assad instinctively grabbed the edge, flipping it just as another hail of bullets came his way.
The table shook violently as rounds pounded into its underside. Splinters flew into his face.
Assad pressed his back against the wood, gasping for breath.
"Okay,okay, okay think. THINK, DAMMIT!"
The table trembled with each hit. Cracks spider-webbed across its polished surface.
"This thing is from… IKEA or something. It won't last a minute…"
He wiped the sweat from his forehead with trembling hands.
"Alright, what are my options?
Option one: stay here and die.
Option two: run and die.
Option three—"
The table suddenly JOLTED as a bullet nearly pierced through.
"OKAY, OPTION THREE ISN'T READY YET—!!"
He crouched lower, his heart racing. The doll's footsteps tapped closer, like a child taking polite steps before turning deadly.
Assad gritted his teeth.
"If I don't move soon… I'm gonna be a damn cheese grater."
He took another shaky breath.
"That's it. I need a plan. A distraction. A weapon. A miracle. Anything."
He peeked over the table's edge and froze. The porcelain doll stood at the end of the hall, and now two more dolls were joining it, each armed with rifles.
…I'm done. No, seriously, I'm done. This is it. Roll credits. Cue my funeral scene.
Assad sprinted, his lungs on fire, bullets whizzing past him like angry hornets.
"WHY IS IT ALWAYS ME?! WHY AM I ALWAYS THE ONE ABOUT TO DIE?!"
A bullet skimmed his sleeve. Another zipped by his cheek. His heart raced so violently it felt like it might burst. He dove behind a fallen table, his only refuge, and hit the ground hard. The table shook under the relentless onslaught. Splinters rained down into his hair. His hands shook uncontrollably.
"I'm so sick of this… I'm SO SICK OF THIS!"
His breath came out in ragged gasps.
"Every single time… every damn time… I'm the one who's weak. I'm the one running away. I'm the one who can't fight."
A bullet slammed into the table, embedding itself inches from his chest. Assad's eyes widened in shock. A surge of heat coursed through him.
His aura, usually faint and barely there, exploded outward in a fierce bloom of red. The marble floor beneath him cracked from the sheer force.
"IF ONLY THIS DAMN TABLE WAS DESTRUCTIVE—!!!"
The moment he yelled it, the air around him shifted. The table began to glow, red veins of energy crawling across its surface, sizzling like molten metal. The wood warped. Iron sprouted from it. Blades unfurled from the edges like a mechanical beast awakening. Assad stared, his mouth agape.
"…Huh?"
More weapons materialized out of thin air—spikes, serrated edges, rotating saws—all snapping into place around the table like a twisted armory coming to life. He blinked in disbelief. The table THUMPED as something inside it clicked. A missile tube slowly rose from the center.
"…no way…"
Then the dolls reloaded.
Before he could process it, the table moved on its own, its blades spinning and deflecting each bullet with metallic shrieks. Assad felt a fire ignite in his chest. He gripped the table by its legs.
"FINE! YOU WANT A FIGHT?! LET'S GO!!"
With pure rage fueling him, Assad charged forward. The table surged ahead with him, blades slicing through the incoming bullets. Sparks flew across the floor. The dolls took aim, and Assad roared.
"TAKE THIS!!"
He kicked the base of the table. The rocket roared to life, sending the entire weaponized beast soaring through the air like a missile. The dolls barely had time to tilt their heads in surprise.
Then, the explosion ripped through the hall, scattering porcelain bodies into a dazzling cloud of shards. A shockwave surged outward, cracking the walls and splitting a marble pillar right down the middle. Assad found himself standing in the midst of the smoke, his eyes wide and his chest heaving.
He glanced down at his hands, now glowing with an otherworldly light.
"…Holy shit."