The air wasn't just cold; it was stolen. The sounds of the city vanished, not like they'd faded, but like they'd been surgically removed, leaving a vacuum of silence that pressed against our eardrums. The thing—the Hasshaku —stood motionless, its head tilted at that impossible angle. I refused to grant it the respect of its full title. It didn't deserve it.
Po.
The vibration wasn't a sound; it was a tremor in the soul.
A flicker of movement to our left shattered the unbearable stillness. A hunched, gaunt figure with glowing amber eyes and skin like a dried-out riverbed materialized. A Djinn. A bottom-feeder of the spiritual economy, hunting souls for spare change in the hellish marketplace.
Its greedy eyes, glowing with avarice, scanned our group. It saw five terrified, cursed kids. It didn't see the eight-foot-tall monument to dread standing beside us.
"Plump little souls," it rasped, its voice like two stones grinding together.
"All alone. Let me take you off your hands—for a price!"
It lunged, not at the Hasshaku, but at Niran, its claws extending toward his chest.
The Hasshaku didn't turn. It didn't even seem to notice the Djinn as a threat. It simply… reacted.
Its long, slender arm moved in a blur of stained white cloth. It didn't strike. It *flicked* its wrist.
The Djinn, to its credit, was fast. It screeched and dematerialized, the Hasshaku's finger passing through the space where its heart had been. It reappeared a few feet away, summoning a jagged, rusty shard of ethereal metal.
—a soul-shiv—
and launched itself back into the fray.
What followed wasn't a fight. It was a distraction. A chaotic, violent, and incredibly lucky distraction.
The Djinn was hopelessly outmatched, but it was desperate and slippery. It zipped around the Hasshaku, shrieking insults in a guttural, strange language, drawing the entity's silent, focused attention for precious seconds.
"Now!"
Kephriel's voice was a whip-crack in our minds, no longer panicked, but seizing an opportunity.
"Its focus is divided! MOVE!"
We didn't need telling twice. We broke into a sprint, not looking back, the sounds of the Djinn's futile struggle and the calm, relentless 'Po' of the Hasshaku's steps echoing behind us. We didn't stop until we spilled out onto a main road, the neon lights and car horns crashing back into our senses like a wave, blessedly normal and loud.
We collapsed against a brick wall, near the church, gasping for air, hearts hammering against our ribs. The silence between us was thick with shared, shell-shocked terror.
Niran was the first to speak, slumping against the wall. "Holy... I thought we were...
hey..."
He frowned, patting his pockets. "My watch is gone. My granddad's watch."
Dao gasped, her hands flying to her ears. "My earrings! The silver ones my mom gave me!"
Preecha just held up his wrist. The simple leather band he always wore was missing.
"What the..."
We all looked at each other, the horrifying realization dawning.
That slimy, two-bit, low-level...
Julia started laughing. It was a slightly hysterical, breathless sound.
"It... it pickpocketed us? While it was getting annihilated by a cosmic horror, it was robbing us blind?"
A slow grin spread across Niran's face, replacing his anger with sheer disbelief. "That little bastard. I almost respect the hustle."
Even Preecha's lips twitched. "Priorities."
From the shadows of an alley mouth, Kephriel materialized. He looked more intrigued than annoyed.
"A common street thug of the netherworld. It saw an opportunity within an catastrophe. It probably thought the risk of eternal obliteration was worth the potential score." He almost sounded impressed.
"Its soul is likely fueling a minor devil's gambling habit as we speak."
We stood there on the busy street, surrounded by oblivious people, our precious things gone, almost devoured by an urban legend... and robbed by a demonic pickpocket.
I finally let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. It wasn't a laugh, not yet, but the tension broke.
"So... if i use the Mindbreaker, will that thing listen to me...?"
Keph shrugged.
"Fear is an universal language, so, probably..."