The ruined church groaned around them, its stained glass shattered, pews splintered across scorched stone. Outside Marisol's glowing cocoon—encased in roots and radiant shadow—her guardian beasts circled, teeth bared, daring anyone to step closer.
Only a few of the familia remained standing, bruised and bloodied, clustered near the back of the nave.
Carlos stood at the center of it all, his boots cracking through the charred floor, power pulsing off his frame in flickers of corrupt light.
Eri stirred from where she slumped against the wall, blinking through the haze. Her lips parted, confused.
"Why do you feel like him—like Mephisto?" she demanded.
Carlos turned his head slightly, red light flickering beneath his skin.
"I am Mephisto," he said with a grin. "The real genuine article. Can't you tell?"
Aiden stepped forward, rage and disbelief bubbling from his chest. "Cut the act. You're not him. What did you do with the real Mephisto."
His crimson eyes locked on Aiden. "How the hell are you still alive?"
Aiden stepped forward slowly, his eyes briefly flickered towards Marisol's shadowy pets just in case, but his stance was steady. Behind him, Lila moved into position, blade drawn, and Rowan's rope-dart swayed at her side like a serpent.
"I don't need to answer you," Aiden said calmly, his voice edged with steel. "But I'll give you this—one last chance to back down. Surrender now… before we put you down."
Carlos barked a short laugh, shoulders shaking as if the idea were the funniest thing he'd heard in years. "Big words for a washed-up hero—who couldn't even avoid a little knife to the gut."
Rowan scoffed, brushing blood from her lip. "Please. That was a cheap shot—and you know it. Here, you've got no leverage. You've blown your surprise round."
Carlos turned toward her, eyes narrowing. "I don't need tricks to crush you."
Lila stepped beside Aiden, her voice calm but resolute. "Then you're a fool. We have the numbers. The advantage. Your familia's finished, Carlos. And so are you."
Carlos smiled—slow, sharp, and cruel.
"Then let's see what the odds look like," he said, cracking his knuckles as the stolen power surged through his veins. "Stand back," he ordered his remaining men without looking. "This one's mine."
Carlos moved like a storm through the chaos, hurling Rowan back with a brutal swing of his newly manifested cane. Eri, pressed against the cracked wall, barely clung to consciousness—her breathing ragged, her form fading in and out of existence.
Aiden's taser shifted, rematerializing as a thin, curved blade in his hand—the weapon flickering with static like a stuttering heartbeat.
Rowan didn't wait for Aiden, leaping into action.
Rowan's rope dart lashed out in a sudden burst, the frozen claw hissing as it sliced through the air. She circled Carlos fast, flanking wide, the cord whistling behind her like a serpent with fangs.
Carlos's cane intercepted the first strike with a flick of his wrist—deflecting it off to the side.
But Rowan was already on the move.
She yanked the rope back mid-spin and launched it upward, the claw anchoring into a broken rafter. Using the tension, she vaulted off the ground—her boots slamming into Carlos's chest like a double-kick.
Carlos staggered back, surprised, his heels skidding across cracked stone.
Rowan landed in a crouch and whipped the dart low, aiming to snag his ankle. The line coiled like a lasso—catching.
She yanked—
Carlos bent unnaturally, rolling with the force. His cane swept out low, catching the rope midline. With a fencer's grace, he rotated his stance, twisted the line taut—and reversed the momentum, pulling her off-balance with her own weapon.
She flew forward—right into his waiting elbow.
Pain exploded behind her eyes as she crashed to the floor.
Frost blossomed across her arms again, faster now, curling around her wrists like shackles.
"Why are you going at him one on one, Rowan?" Phoebe's voice slithered into her skull. "If you can't figut with your team you know what will happen. You will just slow them down amd be dead weight."
"No—shut up!"
She slammed the rope dart into the ground, twisting it into spear form. Heat surged down the haft. She gritted her teeth and pressed the burning steel into her forearm—melting the ice, burning Paige's voice from her skin.
Steam hissed.
But Carlos was already moving.
His cane snapped out in three swift jabs—shoulder, stomach, ribs.
Rowan blocked one—then another—
The third cracked into her side, the force lifting her off her feet.
She slammed into the wall, her spear skidding out of reach.
The unicorn hissed behind her, pacing at the edge of the cocoon as if it were waiting for the right moment to intervene.
Carlos chuckled, straightening his coat. "Pretty. Wild. Predictable."
He rushed forward raising, his cane for a killing strike—
But a sabre caught it mid-swing with a crack.
Aiden stood between them, sweat clinging to his brow, the Ring of Vows humming at his wrist. In his other hand, a conjured sabre shimmered with flickering arcs of static.
"Leave her alone," Aiden growled.
Aiden didn't hesitate. He dashed in, sabre in one hand, the smaller curved dagger conjured in the other—low and close.
Carlos's grin sharpened. "As you wish."
Their blades met in a flurry—Carlos's cane flashing with sharp, rhythmic parries as Aiden slashed high, then ducked low, stabbing for the stomach.
Sparks danced as Aiden's dagger kissed Carlos's coat—then hissed as the voltage surged.
Carlos grunted, jerking back with a glare.
"You little cheat," he spat, adjusting his footing.
Aiden pressed the attack, forcing Carlos to give ground—until Carlos spun on his heel, using Aiden's momentum against him. He sidestepped, slipped past Aiden's shoulder, and leapt into a sharp spinning kick.
His boots crashed into Aiden's back and sent him plummeting downwards.
Aiden hit the ground hard. His weapons blinked out of existence in a flash of static. His breath caught in his lungs.
Carlos landed lightly, cane spinning once before resting neatly in his palm.
"You can't win," Carlos said, voice booming, spreading his arms wide as if he already owned the room. "Not with those props."
His gaze flicked—sharp, almost amused—toward Lila.
"But you..." Carlos smirked, stepping closer. "You're different, aren't you? Your power doesn't waver."
Lila gritted her teeth, raising her two-handed sword. Shadows rippled at her heels, steady.
Carlos's strikes came fast—crisp, elegant, textbook fencing. Every thrust of his cane was measured, efficient, like a man dissecting a sparring partner rather than fighting for his life.
Lila adjusted her stance. She exhaled through her nose, dropping her blade lower, letting the tip sway slightly, deliberately sloppy. She widened her guard—not to invite a hit, but to bait one.
Carlos bit. His cane darted in to punish the perceived mistake—
And Lila rotated, using his momentum against him. Her footwork shifted subtly into a winding step. Her blade slid under his guard, twisting in a half-circle—then snapped upward in a brutal cut across his side.
Carlos snarled, stumbling back. Shadows seeped through the tear in his coat, his wound healing with unnatural speed from his newfound power.
Lila didn't press immediately. She just smiled, grim and steady.