The Purge Units moved with chilling precision, hauling the Dalton family from the prison cart. Father, mother, and children were bound to short poles, surrounded by barrels filled with kerosene and diesel. The smell of fuel hung in the air, mingling with dust, sweat, and fear, thick and suffocating.
Commander Kyle—stern, unyielding, his presence cutting through the murmurs of the crowd—stepped forward. "People of Elton," he called out, his voice booming across the marketplace, echoing off the red-brick buildings. "We are a peaceful town. We live by order, by law. Magic is a threat to our way of life. Today, the Dalton family will serve as an example. Let this remind every magic user who still hides among us: reveal yourselves, submit to the law, or face justice."
The Daltons trembled, shaking their heads violently.
"We… we don't use magic! Please! None of us! You're wrong!" the father shouted, his voice cracking.
A hush fell over the crowd. People pressed together, clutching their children, leaning against carts, whispering. Even the merchants paused mid-transaction, their hands frozen over bread, fruit, or tools. Fear and curiosity painted every face.
The commander raised a small stone—a gleaming, ominous Aetheryte—toward the Dalton father. "If any of you possess magic, this stone will reveal it. If not… you will be released after investigation."
The townsfolk leaned in, craning their necks. The Daltons' pleas echoed against the walls, bouncing back as a chorus of fear.
Hunter's chest tightened. Magic users could sense other magic users. If any of the Daltons had magic, he would feel it. But there was nothing. Not a trace. Innocence radiated from them like a beacon.
The father's hands shook as the commander brought the stone closer. The crowd held its breath.
Then—black.
A collective gasp, a scream of shock, tore through the marketplace. "Magic! They have magic!"
Hunter's stomach dropped. His fists clenched. He could see the shock on the townsfolk's faces—fear, awe, disbelief—all mixed with the harsh lesson the Purge Units had prepared. Behind him, the Guardians mirrored his anguish. Every instinct screamed this was wrong. He could feel it. The Daltons were innocent. It had to be a setup.
The commander's voice cut through the chaos, sharp and deliberate. "Bring forth the shooters. Let this serve as a warning to all who still hide. Magic will not be tolerated."
The crowd backed away in fear, forming a wide circle around the barrels and the tied family. Children whimpered, mothers clutched their babies to their chests, and merchants stumbled backward. Hunter's feet itched, wanting to run forward, to stop this. His hands shook, fingers curling in desperation.
From the back, the shooters nocked flaming arrows to their bows, their fletchings catching sparks in the sunlight. They drew, taking careful aim at the barrels. The tension was unbearable—every eye in the marketplace focused on the scene, every heartbeat loud in the oppressive silence.
The Daltons screamed, pleading, thrashing against their bindings. "Please! Please! We didn't do anything! We don't use magic! Spare us!"
Hunter felt bile rise in his throat. He ground his teeth, every instinct of protection screaming to move, to stop it. But he couldn't. Using his magic here would expose them all. The risk was too high. Pain twisted in his chest like fire.
Commander Kyle raised his hand. The shooters released their arrows. Flames hissed as the tips struck the barrels, igniting the kerosene. Flames roared upward, licking the poles and the rope bindings. The Daltons' screams became a chorus of terror, echoing through the brick streets of Elton.
The crowd gasped, some fainting, others holding each other as the blaze consumed the family. Children cried, parents sobbed, merchants covered their eyes. Hunter's vision blurred with rage, grief, and helplessness. The Guardians pressed behind him, their silent agony a mirror of his own.
Hunter's mind raced. If the Daltons were innocent… then the stone had been tampered with. This was a setup. A trap. He could feel it, the lies, the manipulation—but to expose it now would mean death for everyone nearby.
And yet, beneath the pain, a fire ignited in him—a cold, sharp resolve. This would not end here.
The flames roared, devouring everything before them. The smell of burning fuel and fear lingered in the air, heavy and suffocating.
Hunter exhaled slowly, fighting the tremor in his hands. He looked at the Guardians, seeing the same truth mirrored in their eyes. They had seen it too. The Daltons were innocent. The Purge Units had the wrong people. And somewhere behind this act of terror, a far darker plan was at work.
This day would scar Elton forever. And Hunter—though powerless in that moment—swore silently that he would uncover the truth.
This was just the beginning.
----
The streets of Elton were eerily silent, stripped of their usual bustle. Merchants had abandoned their stalls, baskets of goods left half-filled, and the laughter of children was replaced by hushed whispers. Smoke still curled in lazy spirals from the spot where the barrels had erupted, carrying the charred remains of the Dalton family.
People moved like ghosts through the streets, eyes wide, voices barely more than murmurs. "Did… did they really use magic?" an old woman whispered to a neighbor, clutching her shawl.
"Is this… is this punishment for the Daltons?" a young man asked, his hands trembling. "They were good people… weren't they?"
Even in a town where magic was outlawed and feared, human instinct rebelled at the sight of such violence. Fear mingled with grief and disbelief, weaving through the crowd like smoke itself.
Yet not everyone was shaken. A few stood with folded arms, heads held high, murmuring in approval.
"They brought it on themselves," a middle-aged merchant said, voice low but firm. "The Aetheryte turned black. That's proof. Magic is evil, and the Purge did what needed to be done."
"I've said it for years," another townsman added, nodding. "Magic has no place here. Look at the Daltons. That's the end of anyone foolish enough to practice it."
Hunter crouched in the shadow of a nearby building, peering through the corner. The marketplace, usually vibrant with life and chatter, was now a silent stage for tragedy. The father, mother, and children lay scorched and broken. Lives that had barely begun were now nothing more than ash and smoke.
His chest tightened. We were supposed to protect them. We are Guardians. Yet we did nothing.
Zayn's hand on his shoulder was a fragile tether to the present. "We need to leave. Now," he urged, voice low.
Iris's jaw was set, eyes scanning the crowd as though the act of watching could be dangerous in itself. "If they see us, even for a second, it could be… bad," she muttered.
Tyra and Cody flanked them, each carrying the heavy weight of helplessness. Their training screamed caution, but their hearts screamed outrage.
Hunter's gaze lingered on the charred remains, fists clenched, nails biting into his palms. Every instinct screamed to intervene, to stop the injustice, but he couldn't. Not now. One misstep could expose them all.
From across the marketplace, murmurs rose into fragments of conversations:
"They were… innocent?" a baker asked quietly, staring at the smoke.
"Why would they do this? Magic's evil, yes… but this?" a shopkeeper muttered.
"They had it coming!" another shouted, pointing toward the blackened remains. "The stone doesn't lie. If it turned black, they were practicing magic!"
"Exactly!" a woman added. "Let this be a warning. No one else dares defy the Purge now."
" Hunter." Jace called out once more.
Hunter exhaled, finally tearing his gaze away. They couldn't linger. The erasure method demanded calm, control—emotions like these could betray them.
As they slipped through the alleys, unnoticed shadows among the townsfolk, Hunter's thoughts raced. This was no simple purge. The Daltons were innocent. The stone—its reaction—proved it. This was a setup. A trap.
The sun dipped lower, casting long, mournful shadows over Elton. Smoke lingered in the air, a bitter reminder of the day's horrors. The town had survived, but its soul had been scorched.
Hunter's eyes met those of his teammates. They were all thinking the same thing: this injustice could not stand. But for now, they vanished into the quiet streets, carrying the knowledge of the atrocity, hearts heavy, minds sharp.
They would regroup. They would plan. And when the time came, the Guardians would act.
But for now… they were only witnesses to the ashes of Elton.