The temperature in the area shifted.
Not warmer.
Not colder.
Just… aware, as if the air itself recognized two predators now sharing the same cage.
Lux crawled backward, breath trembling, while Gavin shielded him with an arm braced protectively across his chest. Varik, shaking and pale, held the dented pipe like it was the only anchor keeping him upright.
Sir Foyd didn't spare them a glance.
He stood between the children and the cloaked man like a wall carved from ice and tempered light a blade made of light in hand. His coat fluttered lightly, reacting to air of heat rising beneath his skin.
His presence was suffocating—
but not in the same barbaric way as the stranger's.
Foyd's pressure was cold, focused, measured.
A disciplined storm.
A blade against a wildfire.
The cloaked man let out a low whistle.
"Achrion sent you this far into the slums?" His chuckle was soft, mocking. "How adorable. Those cowards are trembling already."
Foyd's grip tightened on his blade. "Identify yourself ."
The man tilted his head then chuckled, "Me? Why, I am but a humble messenger."
Foyd's eyes narrowed, "What message do you hope to send with such a scene?"
The cloaked figure laughed, "That your people and their time is coming and that boy will be used to ensure its certainty."
Lux flinched.
Foyd calmly confirmed,"I see. You are one of them, this is no longer a matter of retrieving the boy then. You are a danger and must be eliminated."
"We are a danger to your fragile oligarchy" the cloaked man corrected. "You feared us. Slaughteredus. But we survived. We thrived. And this little ember—"
He pointed casually at Lux.
"—is proof their fear was justified."
Lux trembled violently, and Gavin placed a steadying hand on the back of his neck. Varik swallowed hard, eyes flicking between the two adults.
Foyd raised his blade slightly, angling it toward the cloaked man.
A thin ribbon of light coiled around the metal—sharp, condensed, luminescent.
"Oh?" the cloaked stranger murmured. "Luminosity and heat. A refined combination. You must be a skilled combatant."
Foyd did not respond.
"You know," the cloaked man continued, "we don't have to kill each other today. You can go back to your masters, lick their boots and tell them the boy was already gone when you arrived. I don't feel like losing an arm."
"Denied."
The man sighed dramatically. "What a loyal dog."
Foyd twitched.
The cloaked man's grin sharpened.
"Oh? Did I strike a nerve?"
Foyd's voice remained icy-calm. "Enough."
Light exploded.
Not from Foyd.
From the stranger.
A corona of molten radiance flared around him—the ground beneath his feet liquefying into a red-hot slurry before refreezing instantly from the chill. His aura felt nothing like Lux's pure heat.
This was heat and power—
a star condensed into a man's frame.
Varik felt bile rise in his throat.
Gavin's stance wavered.
Lux nearly fainted from the sensory overload.
And yet—
Foyd stepped forward.
Calm.
Precise.
Unshaken.
His badge glowed. Not brightly—
but sharply, like a blade honed a thousand times.
The cloaked man's grin widened.
Then he blurred forward.
Foyd met him.
And the room detonated.
The impact cracked the ground, rupturing frost and metal alike. The shockwave was so sharp that the three boys were thrown violently against the far wall.
Gavin twisted midair, grabbing both Lux and Varik and bracing them with his body as they hit the ground. Pain shot through his ribs, but he didn't loosen his hold.
Lux clung to him desperately.
Varik groaned, gripping Gavin's coat.
Foyd and the cloaked man clashed again.
Light.
Heat.
Pressure.
Everything collided at once.
The air screamed under the strain.
Lux blinked through tears as the adults blurred in and out of visibility—moving too fast for his eyes to track. Each collision birthed ripples of color and distortion, ripping gouges through the corridor.
The cloaked man laughed through it all.
"Good! GOOD! At least one of you can fight!"
Foyd's answer was a silent slash—a crescent of compacted luminosity that sliced through the stranger's cloak. Sparks of molten fabric scattered across the ground, burning small craters into the frost.
The cloaked man's grin didn't falter.
He snapped his fingers.
Heat imploded around Foyd like a collapsing star.
Lux covered his head instinctively. Varik's vision blurred. Gavin shielded them with both arms, taking the brunt of the heat wave.
The boys wanted to run but a single step out of line and they would be dead.
For one heartbeat, Foyd disappeared in the light.
Then—
He stepped out of it.
Smoke curled from his coat.
His jaw was tight.
But his stance was unchanged.
The cloaked man blinked.
"…Interesting."
Foyd's voice was cold as forged steel.
"You talk too much."
He vanished.
This time Foyd struck first—
appearing behind the cloaked man and slamming a radiance-coated kick into his back. The man stumbled, caught off guard.
Foyd followed with a blade swipe—
A thin, needle-like beam of concentrated light extended from the sword, stabbing through the stranger's shoulder.
Blood steamed.
The cloaked man hissed—half pain, half pleasure.
"Oh, that's new," he purred. "A surgical application. You and your little tricks."
Foyd didn't reply—already moving again.
Gavin let out a slow exhale, overwhelmed.
Varik whispered shakily, "These guys are… monsters…"
Lux didn't speak.
He couldn't.
His chest hurt.
His throat burned.
Every flare of heat made him nauseous, like something inside him was trying to awaken out of sync with his body.
"Lux," Gavin whispered, turning him slightly. "Stay with me. Breathe."
"I-I'm… trying…"
The cloaked man suddenly snapped his head toward Lux again—even mid-fight.
His eyes flared.
Not blue.
A gold radiance.
"You feel that, little ember?" he crooned. "Your core is waking. That's what this pressure is. That's why your lungs hurt. Your body is trying to draw heat from me. From him. From everything alive in this place."
Lux's entire body convulsed.
Gavin held him tightly.
Varik grabbed Lux's hand, voice shaking: "Stay with us! Lux, LOOK at me—"
The cloaked man's gaze softened, disturbingly gentle.
"Come to me, ember. I'll teach you how to breathe."
Foyd's blade pierced through his other shoulder.
"You're arrogance is insulting."
The cloaked man didn't even flinch.
He seized Foyd's wrist with his hand—
crushing the forearm armor like brittle plaster and swung him into a wall.
Ice and concrete shattered.
Metal bent.
Foyd rolled, instantly regaining footing, blade up.
The stranger dusted debris from his cloak.
"You're more fun than I expected."
Foyd's breathing remained steady, but a thin line of blood slid down his temple.
They were relative to each other.
The cloaked man moved first.
He vanished from sight—
and reappeared behind the boys.
Gavin jerked them back, shoving Lux and Varik behind him.
The cloaked man didn't attack.
He simply crouched down, eye-level with Lux, ignoring Gavin completely.
"Last chance," he murmured. "Come with me."
Lux's heart hammered violently.
His skin burned.
His vision darkened.
Something inside him begged to reach toward the man's outstretched hand.
The temperature spiked—
And then a blast of white-hot light slammed into the cloaked man's side, sending him skidding across the floor.
Foyd landed between him and the boys.
"I am still your opponent."
The cloaked man pushed himself up, chuckling low, "Very well."
He stood, dusted off his cloak, and rolled his shoulders until the bones cracked.
"I can tell you won't let me leave here alive, much less with the boy, even if it costs your life," The cloaked stated calmly. "I guess you leave me with no choice then."
The temperature was rising rapidly.
The ground and the air were smoldering.
Foyd could tell the man was planning something.
He dashed towards him, thrusting his sword towards his throat, not wanting to give him time to pull something off.
The luminescent blade was mere inches away from the man's face— then he exploded with red flames.
Officer Foyd was blown back but landed on his feet.
The boys were all sent flying into a wall.
The flames surrounding the man coalesced forming a molten substance surrounding his body. The cold was quickly replaced by smoldering heat and the very ground began to shape to the man's steps. His cloak was gone, erased completely now revealing a man clad in primitive light armour.
He wore a black mantle chest plate lined with brown fur with a golden sun engraved on left which complemented his jet black hair and golden eyes. His arms wore black bracers with the same golden egravings and lining while his feet were secured with boots of the same design.
Under his armour were all black thick clothing built for the harsh winter.
The man's choice of clothing made him look intimidating but what truly looked horrific about him was the half of his face which seemed to be scaled and burnt and the slits in his brilliant golden eyes.
The man laughed then taunted.
"Let us continue our dance my esteemed officer."