Kael sprinted through the dimming streets, urgency pounding in his chest. The moment he heard the guards mention Thorne and Bran's disappearance, a pit had formed in his stomach. Something was wrong. Deeply wrong.
He turned onto Erion's street and froze.
The front door was ajar. Splinters and scorch marks marred the wood. He dashed inside.
The house was wrecked.
Furniture lay shattered, shelves torn from the walls. Papers, broken glass, and bloodstains marked the floor. Kael's breath caught in his throat. "Erion? Mira?!"
No answer. Just silence and destruction.
His heart raced. They were gone.
He turned to run—he had to alert the guild—but three dark-robed figures stepped through the doorway, their faces hidden beneath hoods. Cultists.
Kael didn't hesitate. He lashed out, hurling rocks and kitchen debris with Minor Teleport. But like before, their bodies shimmered with defensive mana shields. His attacks struck harmlessly, absorbed by glowing runes.
One of them raised a hand, a blast of force slamming into Kael's chest. He hit the wall with a sickening thud, pain blooming in his side. Another cultist moved in and struck him across the head with a blunt weapon.
Darkness swallowed him.
---
When Kael awoke, the air was cold and damp. The floor beneath him was stone, the room cloaked in shadows. He groaned and sat up, vision blurry.
He was in a cell. Iron bars. Runes along the edges.
Across from him, in another cell, sat Erion and Mira. They looked battered but alive. Relief flooded Kael.
"Kael!" Mira whispered, rushing to the bars.
Erion was seated beside her, one arm in a sling, his expression grim.
Kael moved closer, his eyes adjusting to the dark. Just across the hallway, in the next cell—
He froze.
Thorne and Bran.
Or what was left of them.
Their bodies were lifeless, marked by deep cuts and bruises, evidence of prolonged torture. Kael felt bile rise in his throat.
He gripped the bars of his cell tightly.
"We have to get out," he said, voice trembling.
"They were waiting for us to get home," Erion murmured. "There was nothing we could do."
Mira wiped tears from her cheeks. "We thought they were going to kill us too."
Kael took a breath, forcing himself to focus. He activated Omni-Vision, letting the world shift into its transparent layers. He traced the inner workings of the lock on his cell, then targeted the small metal components and used Minor Teleport to remove them.
Click.
His cell door swung open.
He repeated the process for Erion and Mira's cell. Then, with a heavy heart, he opened the one holding Thorne and Bran. He stepped inside and gently retrieved their guard badges.
"They deserve to be known for their sacrifice," he said quietly.
Together, the three of them crept up the winding stone stairwell. At the top, another door. Locked. But Kael's eyes pierced the mechanism within.
A guard stood on the other side.
Kael's mind raced. He couldn't let them be captured again.
Focusing, he teleported one of the metal shards from the cell bars—not to the lock, but into the guard's chest. More specifically, his lungs.
A muffled choke. Then a gurgling cough.
Blood sprayed onto the door.
Kael opened it to find the guard collapsed, lifeless.
No more running.
It was time to end this.