Mist
All the soldiers in the area began moving in a hurry, surrounding an entire block, fully armed. Two helicopters circled overhead, their engines loud and close, the wind from their blades kicking up dust and stirring everything around them.
At the same time, two large spotlights cut through the darkness, aimed directly at a dumpster.
Dressed entirely in black military gear, wearing what looked like a long coat of dark fur that covered most of his body, a man approached at a calm, steady pace. Behind him, something seemed to shift slightly with each step he took. But what stood out the most, aside from that, were his eyes. They were heterochromatic, one brown and the other blue. And not only that, both had vertical pupils, very much like a predator's.
"I don't know what made you think you could escape from the military academy," the man said, his voice low, almost like a restrained growl. "But this ends now. Just surrender… and I can assure you nothing too… serious will happen to you," he added, his tone dark.
That's right. This man was none other than the headmaster of the military academy known as Westover Hall, and every soldier now moving through the area was supposedly a former student who had graduated from that place, forming what looked like a private army handling security jobs across the country. And now, every single one of them had gathered under his orders to capture just two runaway students… plus one more who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere to take them away.
Even without thinking too much about it, the whole situation was strange. Not just unusual… obsessive. An entire private army deployed to hunt down three kids. With military vehicles, armed troops, and even war helicopters.
The headmaster of Westover Hall stared at the dumpster. No sound came from inside.
He raised a hand, giving a short signal.
Several soldiers stepped forward, weapons ready, and pushed the dumpster aside, revealing a hole that ran from the wall down into the ground, just wide enough for children to crawl through.
The headmaster stepped closer and sniffed the air lightly… then frowned and inhaled again, deeper this time.
"Grrr…" he growled under his breath. "They're not here anymore."
"Sir, there's another opening over here," one of the soldiers said, peering at the end of the alley. In one corner, the wall had another hole like the first one, partially covered with a trash bag.
"Tsk. They slip away like rats. If the general didn't want them alive, they'd already be my prey," the headmaster said, clearly irritated.
Suddenly, the radio at his waist crackled.
"This is Squad Two. Sir, we think we've found them. We're following carefully," a voice said from the other side, almost whispering. "They're heading toward—" The voice cut off abruptly, as if something had startled him. "…What is that? Is that a… spir— no, no, no— aaah!"
The transmission ended in static.
Hearing that, the headmaster smiled instantly, not caring in the slightest what had just happened to his men.
"Move. Now. Capture them," he ordered, turning around sharply. The helicopters immediately adjusted under his command, and the soldiers followed without hesitation.
All of them heading toward the last known position of Squad Two.
…
Meanwhile, in a set of distant streets, the group of three ran as fast as they could, with Clarisse leading.
"Tsk. Damn it… we didn't notice those guys. They'll be here any minute," she said, annoyed at herself for not realizing they were being followed.
"I'm sorry…" the younger boy said quietly, guilt in his voice.
"Don't worry about it. Your ability helps a lot. This is on me for not paying attention," Clarisse replied, her tone calmer, though she didn't slow down. "But the way you use it still feels familiar… same with that bow style," she added, glancing toward the older sister.
"This?" she said, raising her bow, an arrow already nocked in case someone attacked. "A man gave it to us so we could protect ourselves. He brought us to Westover Hall after making some kind of deal with someone… but he didn't tell us much before disappearing," the girl said, her tone slightly sad as she gently brushed her hand over the bow.
"He was really cool… and he could use superpowers, like a superhero. When I told him he looked cooler than my Zeus Mythomagic holographic card, he gave me this book," the boy added, holding up the book he always carried. It was violet, with a strange symbol in the center, something like a portal with a circle in the middle. "Though, out of the three, I can only summon the ones called Mistman for now," he said with a small hint of excitement.
"I don't think this is the time to be so—"
Before Clarisse could finish, she suddenly heard footsteps and vehicles approaching at high speed, along with the helicopter overhead turning its lights directly toward them.
"Tsk…" she clicked her tongue, bringing a hand to her shoulder, still wrapped in blood-stained bandages. "Looks like the only way out of this… is beating every single one of them," Clarisse said as the three of them came to a sudden stop.
She shifted her grip on the spear, readying herself to fight.
But the two siblings glanced up at the helicopters, noticing the heavy machine guns mounted underneath, and then toward the approaching military group. They couldn't help but look at each other and come to the same conclusion.
Clarisse had lost too much blood…
and now she was crazy.
"VEN MUL RIIK."
The words echoed suddenly, making the nearby windows tremble for a brief moment.
At the same time, Clarisse's expression lit up instantly as she recognized the voice.
As those words faded, a massive wave of mist was drawn in, like a sudden tide, covering the entire town almost instantly. Visibility dropped sharply. Even the helicopter blades couldn't disperse it, forcing them to rise higher just to avoid being completely blinded.
But before Clarisse could fully relax, her eyes snapped open as she heard something approaching. She ducked immediately.
In that same instant, a projectile tore through the mist, passing right where her head had been moments before.
It slammed into a nearby wall with a loud impact.
Then, footsteps began approaching them, slow and steady, emerging from the mist into their line of sight.
It was the headmaster of Westover Hall.
He looked at them with a lion-like smile, while behind him, a shadow shifted within the mist, something long and heavy moving slightly, almost like a catapult… or rather, a tail. It lifted over his shoulder like a launcher, aiming directly at the three of them.
"I don't know where this mist came from… but I finally have you, you annoying brats," the headmaster said, a low growl slipping into every word.
At the same time, his body began to change rapidly, growing more muscular as thick fur spread beneath his clothes. His hands turned into large, feline claws, and his feet followed the same transformation.
"Grrrooww…"
A deep roar escaped him.
Once the transformation settled, he turned his head slightly, sniffing the air as if the mist didn't interfere with his senses at all.
"I see… so that's why you were stalling," he said, now with a more satisfied expression.
He pulled out his radio for a moment.
"They've fallen into the trap. Begin," he ordered coldly.
"But sir… the mist—" a soldier's voice responded.
"Are you stupid? Don't tell me a little mist is enough to stop you," the headmaster snarled into the radio.
No answer came back.
He crushed it in his hand instantly.
"Now… back to what matters. Nico and Bianca Di Angelo… you've been quite the inconvenience. But this works out better. I was told you were needed alive… not whole. And the last one…" he added, shifting his gaze toward Clarisse. "I didn't expect to see a daughter of Ares. But I suppose you'll serve better as food. Our forces have grown too much… and many are eager to taste a demigod," he said, staring at the three of them.
Bianca frowned slightly at his words. But considering everything in front of her, while it was surprising, it was nothing compared to the moment she had been rescued by the man her brother described as someone with superpowers.
She raised her bow quickly, aiming straight at him.
Nico tightened his grip on the book in his arms, his expression filled with worry… but also with a faint spark of excitement, wanting to do something like what he had seen when he and his sister were saved by the man who had called himself…
Miraak.
And Clarisse… even with her injured shoulder, had a faint, mocking smile on her face.