The cozy atmosphere of the kitchen was shattered by the sharp, silver chime of the bakery bell.
"I'll be back," Lunara said, her voice trailing off as she smoothed her apron and headed toward the front. "Welcome to Mama K's Bakery. How can I—"
She stopped. Standing before the counter were three figures draped in heavy black cloaks, their faces swallowed by deep hoods. A cold prickle of unease raced down her spine—a primal instinct screaming danger. She didn't wait for them to speak. As the air hissed with the sound of a compressed wind bullet, she wrenched her head to the side. The projectile grazed her ear, slamming into the stone wall behind her with the force of a cannonball.
Damn it. Why are they here now? "Light! We're under attack!" she screamed.
Two minutes earlier...
Back in the kitchen, Light had frozen mid-sentence, his amber eyes darting toward the storefront. "I have a bad feeling," he muttered.
Alger looked at him, his brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"
Light didn't have time to explain. The muffled thwack of the wind bullet hitting wood reached them, followed immediately by his sister's warning cry. The unease turned into cold reality. "We have to go. Now!" Light barked, grabbing Alger's hand and dragging him toward the back exit.
They burst through the kitchen door, only to find the alleyway swarming with more cloaked figures. Shit, Light thought. One of the men lunged with a blade, but Light moved with fluid, practiced grace. He ducked the swing and delivered a punishing counter-blow to the man's solar plexus, sending him flying backward into a stack of crates.
"I thought they were just civilians!" one of the attackers hissed, staggering back. "They must be retired knights!"
Distracted by the fight, Light didn't see the second man flanking him. But he was faster than he looked. Before the attacker could land a blow, Light's fist connected with the man's jaw, knocking him senseless before he hit the cobblestones.
Back to Lunara...
A hail of wind bullets shredded the display cases. Lunara dove behind the counter as glass rained down like lethal snow. Reaching for the nearest heavy objects—hard-crusted loaves of day-old bread—she infused them with a flicker of her hidden strength and hurled them. The "bread" hit like stones, staggering the cloaked men.
Using the momentary confusion, she vaulted over the counter in a blur of motion. She struck from the shadows, her strikes precise and clinical, dropping the attackers one by one. After binding them with their own cloaks, she raced to the back alley, finding Light groggily shaking out his hand beside a trembling Alger.
"It's over for now," Lunara breathed, her eyes scanning the rooftops. "But we aren't safe here anymore."
Light wiped a trail of dust from his sleeve, his expression grim. "Yeah. They tracked him. But how?"
Alger, his legs shaking and his breath coming in ragged gasps, looked at them both. "What... what is going on? Who are those people?"
Lunara looked at Alger's trembling fingers and let out a long, weary sigh. The adrenaline was fading, replaced by the grim reality of their situation. "We'll explain everything tomorrow," she said, her voice softening. "But first, we need to clean up this mess and find the others before more of those cloaked bastards show up."
"Damn it," Light muttered, reluctantly running a hand through his messy, sun-colored hair. "I guess we don't have a choice. We have to find him first."
Alger looked between the siblings, his heart still hammering against his ribs. "Find who? Who are you talking about?"
Lunara stepped forward, resting a steadying hand on Light's shoulder. She looked at Alger with an expression that was both protective and grave. "Obsidian. Or 'Sid' for short. He's... a specialist. If anyone can figure out how they managed to track you across the realms, it's him."