Hearing William's shout, Claude ducked behind the fractured stone wall, chest heaving. Dust clung to the ragged edges of the rubble, flakes of paint and plaster peeling off like old scabs.
Through a jagged crack in the wall, he peeked toward the town square, once a place of market stalls and idle chatter, now twisted into a stage for madness.
Bodies lay crumpled like discarded marionettes, their blood pooling into the cobblestones. Above, the sky was cracked open, bleeding threads of red and shadow.
And in the middle of it all, William stood.
Or whatever remained of him.
Cogus.
Hollowed Ones.
Arms of Providence.
The terms swirled in Claude's mind like a violent storm. Some he recognised, others not. He wanted to stop and untangle it all, connect the pieces like he always did, but time was a luxury he no longer possessed.
"Damn rat!" William's voice rang out again, loud and laced with deranged amusement. "Come out! If you do it now, I might even leave your corpse whole when I'm done with you."
Claude stilled. That wasn't the voice of the bard he had seen once.
He had no answer.
But he could hear it in William's voice, the hunger, the hatred, the promise of violence. The moment Claude stepped into view, he knew he'd be torn apart without hesitation.
'What do I do…?' He bit his lip until it bled, mind racing. 'I have to survive this. I have to escape this nightmare. And I must reach Initiate… or my time here will be cut short before I can unravel any of this.'
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
Footsteps, slow and deliberate, echoed across the shattered square.
"I know you're there," William called, tone slipping into a sing-song mockery. "Cease your hiding and show yourself."
Claude's heart pounded against his ribs. His thoughts surged, colliding into each other until one idea broke free. A plan. One so desperate, so absurd, it might have seemed suicidal if he hadn't already run out of options.
'I haven't used Mental Energy directly in a fight since I became an Official Mage…' Claude looked down at his hands, then curled them into fists.
He would not go down without a fight.
***
William clenched his fists as he neared the jagged edge of the half-collapsed building. He could have sworn he'd seen a silhouette, just a fleeting glimpse, peeking from behind the fractured masonry only moments before.
But now?
Nothing. No voice. No movement. Only silence.
Was it just his imagination?
He scowled. He didn't care. Uncertainty was a luxury he would not afford. Unknown factors had no place here. Every variable must be culled, every loose end burned.
He would not allow anything to stop His descent.
Whoosh!
In a blur of movement, William vanished from the open street and reappeared in the building's shadow, turning swiftly as he scanned his surroundings.
Dust hovered in the air like spirits unwilling to depart. The fractured stone walls were scorched black in places, as though kissed by fire.
Rubble lined the floor, splintered wood, broken glass, and a twisted metal beam split down the middle.
But no one was there.
Skraa-BOOM!
William's pupils dilated. Instinct overtook thought as he teleported, reappearing on a rooftop just in time to see his previous location engulfed in a sphere of blinding white lightning. The air cracked and sizzled as the explosion sent chunks of stone flying outward like shrapnel.
"What—?!" He exclaimed, momentarily stunned by the overwhelming brilliance.
But respite was a fleeting thing.
Crack!
A sharp, crystalline sound echoed from above. William's gaze shot skyward.
Dozens of icicles had formed midair, long and jagged, hanging above his head like a guillotine.
Whoosh!
They plummeted.
Reacting in a heartbeat, William stretched his arm forward, blood seeping from the pores of his skin. A crimson mirror materialised in the air before him, its glassy face rippling like disturbed water.
Hissssss...
Smoke curled off its surface as shadows emerged, dark, brittle copies of the ice above. The mirror launched them with a scream.
Shrrr! Crrrr-Crack!
Both sets of spears collided midair, erupting into a hail of icy fragments and black mist. Shards rained down around William, harmless now, melting into the earth and shadow.
He clicked his tongue and shook his head, a smirk curling on his lips despite the danger. "I may not know who you are. But to interfere in this… will be your undoing."
No reply.
Whhhhh...
Only a whisper of wind.
William's eyes narrowed. Something was wrong. The silence had changed. He could feel it.
His smirk faded as he vanished again.
A heartbeat later, he reappeared at the edge of the town square, slipping from a nearby shadow like a phantom. But what he saw made him halt mid-step.
Bodies.
The once-proud members of Machina Sacra lay strewn across the cobbled plaza like discarded dolls. Their robes, once immaculate, were soaked in viscous, dark blood.
Some were blistered, their skin scorched and peeling from intense heat, steam still rising from their corpses. Others were preserved, entombed in jagged blocks of translucent ice, their mouths frozen in mid-scream.
The stench of burned flesh and ozone hung thick in the air.
William's hands trembled with fury.
And then he saw him.
Standing amidst the ruin was a boy. No older than fourteen. His golden hair caught the light like fire. Sapphire-blue eyes glimmered with a calm intensity far beyond his years. His skin, however, was sickly, pale, translucent in places, as if blood no longer flowed freely beneath.
Still, William recognised him. The quiet boy he met on his first day in Hawden.
"You?!" William snarled. "Who are you really? Why have you interfered in our plan?"
The boy tilted his head slightly, a cold, knowing smile spreading across his face. "You do not need to know," he said softly. "All that matters is that this will be your graveyard."
William's eyes flicked between the boy and the broken bodies of his comrades. His expression darkened.
Vrum-Kzzzt!
Another orb of white lightning surged toward him. But this time, William was ready.
Dark blood burst from his skin once more, forming another shadow-mirror. A second orb, dark as void, emerged from it and shot forward to meet attack.
Crrrr-Crack!
The impact was immediate. Electricity exploded outward in black and white arcs, crackling like a duel between two angry gods.
When the light faded—his foe was gone.
A thin sheen of frost coated the ground in his wake.
"Tsk!" William hissed, frustration bubbling to the surface.
Whoosh!
Hearing a sound behind him, he turned, and was met with a wall of gleaming spears, dozens of icy projectiles flying toward him in perfect synchronicity.
"Huff..." William exhaled, his breath coming out in a pale, visible mist. He immediately began to escape through his shadows.
But then—his eyes widened.
'Mist? The air shouldn't be that cold...'
He looked down.
A thin lattice of ice was creeping over his limbs, clinging to his clothes and skin like frozen ivy. He tried to move, but the frost resisted him.
Sweat beaded on his brow.
Not only that, but with a brief scan of his surroundings, he found that there were no visible shadows. Where there would have been shadows remained floating orbs of crackling electricity.
The wild flickers of brilliant white light illuminated the area and banished any shadows that dared to linger.
Time slowed.
William's eyes darted between the incoming attack and the ice binding him.
"Oh..." He whispered, lips curling in a grimace. "This is most certainly going to sting."