As the dust settled, a lone silhouette emerged from the wreckage. A tall, blonde woman stood over the crumbled stone, her piercing gaze locked onto the chaos before her. With a flick of her wrists, golden gauntlets materialized over her hands—her Telum, radiating power.
Ark barely hesitated, summoning his translucent yellow arms in response, their eerie glow slicing through the debris-filled air. The woman didn't flinch. Instead, she moved like a shadow, effortlessly weaving past his attacks, her speed almost unnatural.
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of Argos and Tori, battered and bruised, their torn clothing and exhausted expressions confirming what she suspected—they weren't part of this group.
Without missing a beat, she shifted tactics. Using her momentum, she slammed her gauntlet into one of Ark's spectral arms, twisting it like a rope and yanking him forward. His feet barely touched the ground before she sent a devastating kick into his ribs, sending him skidding backward.
"You two—get out of here!" she shouted, her voice sharp as steel.
Argos instinctively stepped in front of Tori, his arms raised slightly in a protective stance. His voice was hoarse but steady. "Who are you?"
The woman barely spared him a glance as she dodged another swipe from Ark, her golden gauntlets clashing against the glowing arms.
"My name's Casia. Now move!" she barked, shoving Ark's attack aside with an explosive force.
Argos and Tori exchanged a quick glance. There was no time to argue. Together, they sprinted through the jagged hole Casia had left in the wall, emerging into pure chaos.
Outside, the battlefield was a blur of clashing forces. Armored figures lunged at each other, weapons colliding with sparks, war cries echoing into the freezing air. Snow mixed with blood, and neither of them could tell which side was which.
Argos hesitated, glancing back just in time to see Casia lift Ark by his own glowing arm, yanking him forward like a captured beast. She was relentless, her every movement sharp and calculated, fighting like a warrior who had seen far too many battles.
Argos clenched his fists. He could feel it—the aching void where his power should be. His body was still drained, but if he could just push a little harder...
Tori noticed. She grabbed his arm before he could take a step back toward the fight. "Don't."
He turned to her, eyes flashing. "We can't just leave her!"
"You're barely standing as it is!" she snapped, tightening her grip on his arm. "You almost died earlier, Argos. You think you can handle that thing right now?"
His jaw tensed. He looked down at her hands, gripping him like she was holding him together. Slowly, he exhaled, meeting her eyes.
"It's fine. I can handle it. We've taken down Thor, Hel, and everything else they've thrown at us—"
Tori yanked him fully toward her, forcing him to face her directly. Her voice dropped, her words hitting harder than any blow he had taken tonight.
"But you have a limit."
Argos froze.
She wasn't just scolding him. She was pleading with him.
And in that moment, as the battle raged around them, he had to decide: listen to reason... or let his reckless nature lead them both straight into another fight they weren't ready for.
"She seems like she's got this. She wasn't counting on our backup either way. Let's just go... forget all of this and thank the gods we're alive." Tori's voice was firm, but there was something fragile underneath it, something almost pleading.
Argos didn't move. His hands clenched into fists at his sides.
"I'm not gonna lose you in a battle you had nothing to do with."
The weight in her voice made him hesitate. He turned toward her, his expression unreadable.
She truly cared.
It wasn't something he was used to. That concern—raw and unfiltered—was foreign to him. His mind wandered, flashing back to Greece, to a childhood spent on the outskirts, ignored or pushed away. People didn't care about him. Or if they did, they never showed it. He had always been a weapon, a force, something to be feared or manipulated.
But Tori... she wasn't treating him like that.
Then—bang!
The sharp crack of a gunshot tore through the battlefield, snapping him out of his daze.
Both he and Tori whipped around just in time to see Casia jerk back slightly, one of her gauntlets smoking from impact. A few inches to the left, and that bullet would've found her skull.
Ark wasted no time. Taking advantage of the momentary distraction, he broke free, his translucent yellow arms dissipating as he leapt backward, regrouping with the figure who had fired the shot.
Argos' gut twisted. Damn it.
"I don't think it's under control now," he muttered, his muscles coiling with tension.
Tori bit her lip, glancing between Casia and the new threat. She hated this. Every instinct screamed at her to run, to get out while they still had the chance.
But Argos was right. Casia wasn't prepared to take on a ranged attacker. At least, she didn't look like it.
"Okay, fine," she exhaled, resignation laced in her tone.
Without another word, the two of them took off, sprinting toward Casia, toward the fight, toward whatever came next.
There was no turning back now. There was no getting out without her in all of this confusion....
Casia's sharp eyes flicked between the two figures standing before her. Two familiar faces. Two people she'd never hoped to see together again.
MacArthur twirled the gun in his hand, smirking like a wolf sizing up its prey. "Well, well. What will Little Casia do now that we're both here?" His voice dripped with mockery, every syllable laced with condescension.
Before she could answer, a blur of silver cut through the air—an axe, spinning wildly as it ricocheted off the walls. It hurtled straight for MacArthur.
Bang!
A single shot rang out from his Telum, the force of the bullet colliding with the axe, sending it spinning back the way it came.
Casia turned just as Argos stepped in through the hole, his hand raised as Crescent Moon, the axe, curved effortlessly back to him. He caught it mid-stride, its weight comfortable in his grip. Tori followed close behind, her stance firm, spirit energy already crackling around her fists like an impending storm.
"And what will you two do now that there's three of us?" Argos challenged, resting Crescent Moon against his shoulder.
Casia shot him a sharp glare. "I told you to move out."
Argos tapped the ground with his axe, his expression unreadable. "You're not built for fighting a ranged enemy."
Before she could retort, Ark sprang into action. His glowing arms stretched outward, splitting into multiple translucent limbs that shot toward them like grasping claws.
Argos reacted instantly, throwing his axe in a controlled arc, slicing through several of the spectral hands before they could reach him. Electricity crackled at his fingertips, dancing along his forearms as he prepared another attack.
Tori wasn't far behind. She flexed her fingers, and in an instant, gauntlets of shimmering spirit energy formed around her hands. When Ark's spectral limbs lashed toward her, she didn't flinch—she met them head-on, striking them away with swift, precise punches. Every impact sent a pulse of energy rippling through the room.
Casia, moving like lightning, dodged every limb that came too close, weaving through Ark's assault. When one of the glowing arms reached out to grab her, she didn't hesitate—she seized it, using his own power against him, yanking him forward with enough force to throw him off balance.
Bang!
Another gunshot rang out.
For a brief second, no one moved. Then, the bullet halted midair, shattering against an invisible force.
Tori stood with one hand raised, her fingers trembling slightly. Before her, a translucent barrier shimmered with an ethereal glow—the unmistakable power of Alepou.
Argos' breath caught as he stared at the barrier, a memory flashing through his mind like a strike of lightning. The pain, the helplessness from before—it all crashed back into him.
The barrier had severed Ark's connection to his spectral arms.
Casia noticed it, too. Her gaze flicked to Tori, then back to Argos.
"Interesting..." she muttered under her breath.
MacArthur, still gripping his gun, clicked his tongue in mild irritation. "Huh. Well, this just got entertaining."
Ark's fists clenched, his body rigid with tension.
Argos exhaled sharply, pushing away the creeping memories. His grip on Crescent Moon tightened.
"Yeah," he muttered.
Casia surged forward, using the protection of Tori's barrier as Ark summoned more translucent arms, twisting and curling around the obstruction in an attempt to reach her. Argos pushed forward as well, his body still aching from earlier, but he had no choice—if he stood back now, they'd all be overrun. Every breath burned, but he shoved the pain aside and focused on the fight.
Tori, meanwhile, felt something odd—an unusual surge in spirit energy. Her eyes flicked toward the gaping hole in the wall where they had entered. The battlefield outside had changed. Fewer combatants clashed in the open snow, and that meant one thing: the battle was nearing its end. But for which side?
Her heart pounded. They were running out of time.
She clenched her fists, drawing from the swirling energy in the air, letting it seep into her body, fueling her powers.
MacArthur raised his gun, his Telum gleaming in the dim light. His expression was calm—too calm—as he took measured shots at the barrier. Each bullet slammed into Tori's shield, cracks spiderwebbing across its surface.
Casia didn't waste a second. She dashed toward the wall, boots striking stone as she kicked off, using the momentum to propel herself straight at MacArthur like a golden bullet. His gun flashed. Shots rang out, but she twisted midair, dodging them with razor-sharp precision.
MacArthur backpedaled fast, his expression finally shifting, eyes narrowing.
Argos used the opening. He bolted past the barrier as it fractured, hurling his axe—Crescent Moon—straight at Ark. The axe spun through the air, crackling with residual energy, but Ark reacted fast. One of his summoned arms lashed out, snatching the weapon mid-flight.
Argos barely had time to curse before something whizzed past his ear—a bullet.
His instincts screamed. He didn't think, just moved.
With a flick of his wrist, Crescent Moon reappeared in his grip just as another gunshot rang out.
A sharp thwack.
A gasp.
Argos turned just in time to see Tori stagger back, a dark crimson bloom spreading across her side.
The bullet had found her instead....6Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRwus7UZnw1
