Jasper rose from the old table, boots scraping stone, the weight of the katana biting into his palm. His breath dragged slow through his throat, sharp at the edges, as Evodil let out a low chuckle—one that hung in the dome like it had always belonged there.
"It'd be wiser to just lay down and accept it," the god mused, his voice smooth, unhurried. "But then again… you were never the smart one."
Jasper didn't answer. Couldn't. His hand trembled just enough to betray him, the blade wavering in the air as he stared—up and down, taking in every inch of the figure before him. The horns, the coat, the smirk carved too sharp to be human. It was Evodil. No one else. And that was worse. Far worse.
His arm shot forward, katana leveled straight at the man. His eyes narrowed, the blue flame along the steel flaring alive—bright for a heartbeat, strong enough to sting the dark—then dying just as quick, snuffed out like it had lost its nerve.
Jasper's breath caught. His eyes widened, disbelief cracking through his face. The weapon Noah had made for him—his only hope—stood afraid, just at the sight of the man before him. He smacked the flat of the blade with his palm, desperate, as though he could bully the fire back to life. Nothing.
Evodil whistled softly, amusement curling in his throat. He chuckled again, the sound light, careless. He didn't even speak to mock Jasper's fumbling. He just walked forward, boots crunching across stone.
The table between them shattered without warning—splintered to dust, fragments exploding out like the dome itself recoiled from his presence. Evodil didn't so much as glance at the debris.
"Ten minutes," he said, his voice even, almost kind. "Let's hope you last that long."
Jasper shuffled back a step as Evodil closed the distance, every pace he took pulling the air tighter, heavier.
"Tell me," Evodil said, voice laced with casual venom, "you know that little rhyme? Ring around the rosie…" His words hung, almost playful, but carried the weight of a blade.
Jasper kept his mouth shut. His eyes dropped to the katana, fingers clenching until his knuckles burned white. Nothing. No flame. No warmth. Just cold steel that mocked him with its silence.
His heel struck the table he'd just risen from, the sudden jolt nearly sending him backward. He caught himself with a lurch, chest heaving, eyes darting back up to where Evodil stood—too close, far too close for comfort.
A groan escaped him, rough and low, as he slid into a stance James had drilled into him. Feet planted, blade angled forward, arms stiff with panic more than training.
Evodil's smirk sharpened, head tilting as he slowed his approach. "That's the stance James taught you, isn't it?" His tone dipped with mockery, smooth as glass. "The same man who tossed you out of his house… and here you are clinging to him like a child. Pathetic."
Jasper didn't answer. Couldn't answer. His chest trembled, panic and stubborn pride twisting together too tight to unravel. He held the stance, held the katana, even if his arms quaked under its weight.
Then—faint. A flicker.
The blade shivered with a dim orange hue, weak, barely there—nothing like the blue fire from before. But it pulsed, small as it was, as though his oath itself had recoiled at the insult.
Jasper's jaw tightened. It wasn't much. It wasn't enough.
But it was something.
Enough to keep him standing, enough to face ten minutes of hell.
Evodil's eyes lingered on the faint orange glow, his smirk curling wider but never softening. He slowed, stopping just short—four meters away—tilting his head with exaggerated interest.
"Oooh," he breathed, dragging the sound out in mock wonder. "Shiny." His palm rose to his chin, tapping lightly as if he were actually weighing something. For a moment, Jasper almost believed he was thinking.
Then Evodil sighed, shoulders rolling in a lazy motion. "Oh well."
And in the space between breath and heartbeat—he was gone.
Jasper's lungs seized. His grip tightened on the katana as his chest rattled with short, sharp gasps. He turned, eyes darting left, right, up at the stalagmite overhead—nothing. No sound. No shadow. Just the silence of the dome, thick and pressing, his own ragged breath the only thing that proved he was still alive.
Thirty seconds. Thirty endless seconds.
Then—footsteps.
Behind him.
He spun too slow. The ground jolted as something coiled around his ankle, hot and cold at once, a tendril that yanked with enough force to tear him off balance. Jasper's stomach lurched as he was hurled sideways, the stone wall rushing up.
Impact cracked through him, ribs flaring with pain, but instinct shoved his arm forward. The katana bit into the wall, steel screaming as it split stone. He clung to the hilt, teeth grinding, body dangling as Evodil's laughter filled the dome.
Another yank—this time toward the opposite wall. Jasper's fingers burned against the grip, every muscle straining as he held on, sword shuddering against the pull. His shoulder screamed, his lungs begged, but all he could hear was that laugh.
Cold. Cruel. Delighted.
The tendril loosened with a snap, vanishing back into shadow, and Jasper's body dropped limp against the hilt. His leg burned where it had gripped him—cloth charred through, skin seared with a mark like fire had branded him instead of flesh touching flesh.
Evodil wheezed out a laugh, hand slapping against his knee as though the sight alone was comedy worth savoring. "Look at you," he said between chuckles, voice breaking into cruel rhythm. "Dangling like a mutt about to tumble off a balcony."
Jasper's jaw tightened, breath ragged as he ripped the katana from the stone. Gravity yanked him down and he landed hard on his feet, knees buckling before he steadied, exhaling a guttural huff.
He turned, raising the blade again, chest heaving. "You're not Evodil," he spat, voice cracking on the word. "Whatever you are—whatever's inside him—leave my uncle alone. Now. And forever."
For the first time, Evodil's smirk faltered. His head tilted, brow arching faintly beneath the blindfold, stunned into a beat of silence. Then a bark of laughter split the air, low at first, swelling into a wheeze that shook through the dome.
"That's your theory?" he mused aloud, almost to himself. "Noah must've spoon-fed you that one." His teeth flashed in the half-light. "Cute."
Jasper didn't wait. He lunged, katana arcing, the orange glow sputtering along its edge. Strike after strike, wild but full of desperation, rained down—each swing sharper than his lungs could keep up with, each breath a knife in his chest.
Evodil moved like smoke. Each slash missed by a hair, a tilt of his head, a lean of his shoulder, a step that barely disturbed the ground. And every time Jasper's blade cut empty air, Evodil's voice slipped in like a knife to the ribs.
"Sloppy. Just like James."
Another miss.
"Predictable. Just like Noah."
Another whiff, another flash of teeth.
"Pathetic. Just like you."
The katana hissed through the air once more—only for Evodil's hand to close around the blade mid-swing. Steel halted, frozen in his grip as if it had struck stone.
Jasper's arms shook violently, muscles screaming as he tried to push through, to slice skin, to do something. Nothing. The edge didn't even nick him.
Evodil's other hand rose lazily, covering a yawn, his smirk never wavering. "Four minutes," he said, voice flat with disappointment. "I expected more." His grip tightened on the katana, pinning Jasper in place as if holding down a child.
He tilted his head, as though plucking some memory at random. "You know… I had more faith in the last one. The man I killed about two hours ago. Poor bastard. Begged for release right at the end. Said he had a wife and a child waiting for him." A low chuckle escaped him. "But Menystria isn't a home for human filth. Just like you."
Jasper's chest hitched, rage forcing out words that broke under their own weight. "Y-you're filth." It was all he had—thin, brittle, a flimsy insult that crumbled even as it left his mouth.
And then recognition cut deeper than the blade in Evodil's hand. He knew the man Evodil was talking about. He felt it in his gut.
The god's patience snapped. He shoved Jasper with casual force, the katana ripping free as his body slammed against the towering stalagmite at the dome's center. Stone bit his back, air torn from his lungs, legs buckling beneath him.
Evodil loomed closer, hands sliding into his pockets like this was all a stroll. His blindfold tilted just enough for Jasper to feel the weight of eyes beneath it. Two tendrils uncurled from his shadow, writhing like serpents, ready.
"You'd better make it to the ten-minute mark," Evodil said, voice sharp with cruel amusement. "Or Noah's little revolution dies with you."
The words hit harder than the shove. Jasper's breath caught, panic sparking wild in his chest, his hands clutching the katana like it was already breaking in half.
The tendrils snapped forward, black whips tearing through the air with a hiss. Jasper's body jolted, pain still screaming in his ribs, but he shoved it aside and dragged his katana up, steel shuddering against the force.
The first strike slammed against the blade, rattling his arms to the bone. The second came fast, sharp enough that sparks burst as he parried, teeth grinding. He stumbled left, then right, blocking again and again, every impact threatening to knock the weapon from his trembling hands.
Evodil watched, calm as a man watching a dog chase its tail. His smirk stayed fixed, eyes half-hidden beneath the blindfold. "Look at you," he said, voice soft with mockery. "Every ounce of strength you can scrape together… and it's still nothing."
Jasper's lungs burned, each breath tearing out of him in ragged gasps. "H-how the hell do you know," he spat between clenched teeth, "that I'm not the head of the revolution?"
He forced a smirk, wild and crooked. "Maybe you've been fooled, huh? Maybe Noah's not the one calling the shots. Maybe it's me." His voice cracked halfway, but he shoved it louder, trying to make it sting.
Evodil sighed, long and heavy, as if the conversation itself bored him. One tendril coiled back at his side while the other jabbed forward, forcing Jasper down to a knee as he caught it with the flat of his sword.
"Did you ever wonder," Evodil asked, tilting his head, "why a perfectly good flashlight died in his hand?" His tone was almost thoughtful, almost kind. "Back in that rusted husk you wanted to turn into a pub."
The dome went quiet again, except for Jasper's labored breathing and the steady hum of tendrils writhing against steel.
The katana carved through shadow with a sharp hiss, cleaving one of the tendrils in two. It recoiled instantly, fragments of it snapping back like worms writhing into nothing.
Evodil's smirk faltered. Disgust curled across his face, faint but unmistakable—an expression Jasper hadn't managed to pry out of him until now.
Jasper's lips twisted into a shaky grin, chest heaving. "Got you," he rasped.
But the victory lasted less than a breath. The second tendril lashed forward, quicker, sharper. He caught it with the flat of his blade, the impact jolting up through his arms. Then it whipped around, curling behind his head.
Jasper spun, desperate, katana flashing just in time. Steel met shadow, and the tendril split apart, severed into fading wisps.
The blade glowed brighter now, fire licking along its edge, orange flames finally crawling into sight. Jasper's hands steadied, for once not trembling as he locked his gaze on Evodil.
"If Caroline were here," he snarled, voice raw, "if she were alive…" He swallowed, the truth catching in his throat. "…she wouldn't waste a single word on you. She'd call you what you are—a careless monster who's never felt a damn thing for anyone."
For the first time, Evodil's blindfold shifted with more than amusement. The void behind it stirred. Faint dots of light sparked within the black pits of his eyes, small but visible—like embers buried in ash. Annoyance.
His voice dropped low, mocking but edged sharper than before. "You think a human woman… could make me do all this?" A laugh broke from him, hollow, derisive. "Don't insult me."
Jasper scoffed through the pain, spitting laughter between ragged breaths. He'd seen it—the faint crack, the ember beneath Evodil's mask. "That's it, isn't it?" he said, voice trembling but sharp. "That's what hurts. You're tearing apart the only thing you ever had. The family you built. The city you ruled. The trust people actually had in you."
He steadied his blade, orange flame crawling higher with each word. "You're not mindless, Evodil. Never were. Smarter than James half the time, ugly mug and all. So think—just think—and reconsider before you burn it all."
Silence fell.
Evodil didn't answer. His boots clicked softly as he stepped forward, one at a time, the dome ringing with each note. The smirk that stretched across his face wasn't calm anymore, wasn't playful. It was tight. Forced. A smile pulled too hard.
One hand slid free from his pocket. Shadows coiled at his palm, weaving upward, hardening into a hilt. Black steel sprouted, lengthening with every heartbeat, until a blade taller than the man himself stood gripped in his hand. White symbols burned across its surface, glowing sharp and alien, the light crawling like veins across the dome walls.
Evodil pressed on, shoulders rolling, laugh tearing out of him raw and cruel. "Eight minutes," he said, voice echoing low and final. "Show's over. You're out of your depth, boy." He swung the weapon once, the air splitting in its wake. "No more tricks. No more autographs."
His grin widened. "You're finished."
Jasper raised his blade again, sliding back into the stance James had drilled into him. His body screamed in protest, arms rigid, knees shaking under the weight of every strike he had already endured.
Evodil came slow. Too slow. His greatsword dragged along the stone floor, leaving a shrill scrape that clawed at Jasper's ears. Sparks spat up with every inch it scraped, the sound drawn out, merciless. He didn't blink, didn't flinch—eyes locked straight ahead beneath the blindfold.
Jasper grit his teeth, waiting, timing his breath for a counterstrike. His chest heaved once, and—
Gone.
Evodil disappeared.
The air shifted before Jasper could move. He reappeared in front of him mid-swing, blade already arcing toward his abdomen. The edge gleamed with intent to split him clean through.
Jasper roared and swung, katana crashing against it. For a heartbeat, the clash held, sparks leaping wild between steel and shadow.
Then the katana broke.
Stone and metal exploded into shards, splintering out in every direction. Fragments bit into Jasper's skin, cut across Evodil's coat, peppered the dome walls. In his hands, all that remained was a ruined hilt, jagged and useless.
Evodil didn't stop. He abandoned the blade mid-swing, fist driving into Jasper's gut. Air blasted out of him in a choked gasp, body folding forward before another strike landed.
A hand snatched his collar, jerking him upright. The first punch smashed into his face. Then another. And another. Blood sprayed with each impact, teeth snapping loose and clattering to the floor. His lip split, nose breaking under the barrage, the dome filling with the sound of fist meeting flesh.
Evodil's smirk spread wider with every blow, teeth gleaming, laughter simmering just beneath the surface as Jasper's face caved beneath his fists.
Evodil's laughter cracked through the dome, raw and jagged, as his fists finally stilled. Jasper slumped for only a moment before the weight slammed him down—gravity pulling harder, crushing him against the stone floor. His cheek smacked the ground, pinned as though the god himself had pressed the world onto his back.
"You, Noah, James…" Evodil's voice rolled sharp above him, each word dripping with scorn. "Pretenders. Frauds. Pathetic little men pretending to matter." His tone dropped to a cruel chuckle. "The revolution, the corpses you piled, the ones you watched burn—all of it, and for what? So you could pretend to play gods in my city?"
Jasper coughed, blood spattering the stone beneath his mouth, vision swimming. The pressure on his skull spiked as Evodil's boot came down hard, grinding against his head. Bone screamed, his skin split, blood pouring in thin rivers across the floor. Not enough to end him. Just enough to make him bleed. To savor it.
Evodil leaned his weight, grinning down, a predator indulging in cruelty. Jasper's body shook with pain, but inside, something flickered. The realization that just by standing here, just by still breathing, he was irritating Evodil. Crawling under his skin. Existing as a thorn in his side. If this was his end, at least he'd made himself remembered.
The foot lifted. Evodil let it rest by Jasper's face, then nudged his skull to the side with casual disdain. The smirk stretched across his lips again, splitting into laughter—high, wild, the sound of a mind that had long since shredded itself thin.
From the shadows, a tendril whipped forward, coiling around Jasper's throat. The grip tightened instantly, crushing the air out of him. His vision blurred, blood loss fogging his mind, consciousness slipping.
The tendril hoisted him upward, higher and higher, until his feet left the floor. Four meters above the ground, choking, body limp.
Evodil stared up at him, calm, unreadable—waiting for the last seconds to tick away.
Evodil's smirk stretched too far, carved across his face like it had been etched there with a knife. It wasn't the sly grin Jasper remembered—the one that promised trouble but left room for escape. This was heavier. Carved. A mask of catastrophe.
He whistled, slow and tuneless, sliding one hand between his curled horns to slick back his mess of white-dyed hair. The other hand, hanging limp at his side, unfurled with deliberate ease.
The shadows rippled.
The Crypt Blade formed in pieces, black matter curling and hardening, fusing into a weapon too massive to be natural. Its weight pressed against the dome, its symbols burning faintly as the air bent around it. Evodil lifted it with both hands like it was nothing, stance firm, posture too calm.
The tendril lowered Jasper until he dangled within range. His body shook, gagging as spit and blood clogged his throat. His voice cracked out in a rasp, raw and furious, the only thing he could summon.
"Y-you… monster—fucking monster—!"
The words shredded his throat, blood flecking his lips. His head rolled back, eyes slipping as black spots swarmed his vision.
Evodil sighed, almost disappointed, the massive blade resting against his shoulder. "Fell unconscious before I could even do it properly," he muttered. The smirk returned, crueler now. "But… that gives me ideas."
The tendril shifted, holding Jasper steady. Evodil raised the Crypt Blade, not to cleave him in two, but to angle it. Slowly. Purposefully. The edge glinted as it lined up along Jasper's right.
Then the swing came.
Steel bit through flesh and bone in a single motion, the sound sickeningly wet, snapping tendons as it severed clean. Jasper's left arm spun away, twisting in the air before slapping the stone floor with a dull, meat-heavy thump. Blood spurted in a thick arc, splattering across the stalagmite, across Evodil's coat, pooling dark beneath where Jasper still hung.
The boy's scream tore out of him—hoarse, broken, animal—before cutting into a choking wheeze as the tendril squeezed tighter around his throat.
Evodil's grin widened, eyes burning under the blindfold.
The tendril whipped Jasper's limp body through the air, his back colliding with the pillar in a crack that rattled stone. The breath was torn out of him in one broken gasp as he slumped, half-conscious. Above, a faded banner tore loose from its hooks, drifting down until it draped across him—covering his mangled side, soaking quickly with the spreading dark of his blood.
Evodil's gaze fell on the severed arm. The thing twitched once, a spasm of nerves jerking the fingers like they were trying to crawl. Blood pumped sluggishly from the stump, each pulse spraying a fresh scatter of crimson across the floor. He chuckled low in his throat, then drove his boot into it. The arm rolled, limp and grotesque, dragging a slick trail across the stone until it vanished into shadow at the far corner of the dome.
For a moment he stood there, watching the banner darken, the shape of Jasper underneath it becoming less human, more like discarded cloth stuffed with meat. His smirk flickered. Thought crossed his face, brief but visible—possibilities. He could split him in half and be done. He could cradle him back to health just to break him again. He could erase every memory and toss him back into the streets like an empty husk.
But no. None of it appealed enough.
Evodil huffed, laughter bubbling out, sharp and careless. He turned away from the pillar and the banner, eyes catching instead on the archway that gaped open at the far end of the dome. His boots clicked against stone as he began the slow walk forward, not glancing back.
"Ten minutes," he said, voice echoing faintly. Mocking even in the absence of an audience. "Congratulations."
One more step. His foot struck the stone—
And he was gone.
The dome fell into silence, broken only by Jasper's shallow, ragged breathing beneath the blood-soaked banner, left to bleed out in the dark.