"But you're not enough, Neila. You've never been enough. And you never will be."
She pointed her hand not towards him but towards the ceiling.
The sound that came out was not a blast. Not a scalpel. It was a scream. A raw, unfocused burst of pure sonic energy that erupted from her hand and exploded outward towards the lights above..
The windows shattered. The walls cracked. The ceiling buckled, raining plaster and dust down on them in a white, choking cloud. And Dominic, caught in the center of it, staggered.
Darkness filled the room.
Neila dropped to the ground, her lungs burning, her throat raw. She hit the floor on hands and knees, gasping, coughing, spitting out blood and dust.
[I'm beating Hoshimi's ass after this. I'm running away now.]
She snapped her fingers.
No flashy burst came out. Instead, an invisible sound wave bounced off the walls and returned to her—a map of the corridor painted in vibration and echo.
Echolocation.
Mana collected under her feet, pooling in her soles like water gathering in footprints.
Neila dashed.
Away from Dominic.
Her feet pounded against the floor, each step a small explosion of force, propelling her down the corridor. Behind her, she heard him move, not running, not chasing, just turning, slow and deliberate, like a predator who knew its prey had nowhere to go.
She spun.
And snapped.
The sonic burst that erupted from her palm was focused, concentrated, aimed not at Dominic's chest but at his ear, the one she'd already burst, the one that was still healing. The sound wave didn't spread; it speared, a needle of compressed air and mana that crossed the distance between them in a fraction of a heartbeat.
Dominic's hand came up.
Too late.
The needle struck his ear, punching through the healing tissue and out the other side. Blood sprayed across the wall in a fine mist.
The only thing he could hear was a ringing in his ear that he couldn't stop.
"You're dead now."
He raised his hand, and the blood that covered the floor rose with it—a crimson tide that filled the corridor from wall to wall, surging forward like a wave. Neila backed against the door behind her, her hands pressing flat against the wood.
The blood burst through the window, shattering what remained of the glass, opening the crack further. Moonlight poured into the hallway, cold and silver, illuminating the scene in stark relief.
[I'm out of mana now]
"Vigil Hex-"
"Neila!"
Lucy's voice cut through the chaos like a blade.
"You're late, Walker bitch!!"
"Shut the hell up!"
The blood wall shuddered. Dominic's head turned, his pale eyes finding the figure at the end of the corridor.
Lucy stood in the stairwell doorway, her dark blue hair loose around her shoulders, her crimson eyes stared into his cold blue eyes. She wore a simple white shirt and dark pants, no shoes, and there was a cut on her cheek that was still bleeding.
Behind her, Kira huddled against the doorframe, her dirty brown hair tangled. Her hands were pressed flat against the wall, her breathing fast and shallow.
"You," Dominic said. Something in his voice had shifted. "Dominic's sister. You're an inferior version of him, what are you supposed to do?"
Lucy stepped forward. The blood wall in front of her rippled, parted, let her through. She walked toward him with the same unhurried grace Neila had shown.
"Brother, I know that you're in there," she said. "Please, come out. Please fight back!"
Dominic tilted his head. "How unbearably stupid of you, do you really think some words are going to help you here?"
"Please, brother." Lucy stopped a few feet from him, close enough to see the pale blue of his eyes, the faint pulse of mana beneath his skin. "You're strong, stronger than I am, you can overpower him, please come back to us."
Dominic's smile flickered. "He is asleep."
"I know." Lucy's voice was soft, almost gentle. "But he's still in there. I can feel him."
She raised her hand, and the blood that covered the floor answered.
It rose in thin threads, weaving together into a net that hung in the air between them, glistening.
Dominic looked at the net. Then he looked at Lucy.
She closed her hand, and the net tightened.
He moved.
Not fast. Not slow. Just there, his hand already around Lucy's throat, his fingers already pressing against her windpipe, his pale blue eyes inches from hers.
He murmured. "You're really boring, like the archetypical hero, I despise people like you, justice only belongs to those strong enough to wield it, and you are so far far away from that level. Or is it your blood, do you really think being in one of the great families makes you strong or is it some stupid pride?"
Lucy's hands came up, but she didn't fight his grip. Didn't struggle. Her fingers closed around his wrist, and for a moment, they stood like that, locked together, his hand around her throat, her fingers around his arm.
"You're wrong," she breathed. "It's not the blood that makes us special."
She pulled.
"That's so stupid, and cliche. You really are boring."
The net tightened again, digging into his skin, almost drawing blood.
Jack's grip on her throat loosened. His eyes went wide.
"Dominic," Lucy said. "Wake up."
The corridor shuddered.
Not from an attack. From something else, something that made the floorboards groan and the walls crack and the blood in the air freeze.
Jack's eyes flickered.
Crimson.
His hands came up to his head, fingers pressing against his temples, and the sound that escaped him was neither human nor inhuman, something caught between, something that had been waiting too long to be free.
"No," he gasped. "Not now!!"
"Dominic." Lucy's voice was steady, calm, the voice of someone who had been waiting for this moment for weeks. "Come back."
The blood in the air began to fall.
Dominic smiled.
But this time, it wasn't malicious, it seemed to soothe her soul, a warm grin.
"Elder brother," Lucy released the grip on him, rushing towards him.
"Lucy, you dumbass!"
Dominic pulled Lucy into a hug.
His arms wrapped around her, his fingers lingering on her arms, his hands pressing flat against her back. She felt the warmth of him through her thin shirt, the steady beat of his heart against her chest.
His fingers released a thin layer of mana on her back, invisible, silent, sinking into her skin like water into sand.
"Huh?"
Lucy's eyes went wide.
She tried to pull back, but his arms held her tight, too tight, too strong. Her hands pressed against his chest, pushing, but he didn't move.
Blood seeped down her legs.
Warm at first, then hot, then scalding. She looked down and saw her thighs swelling, the skin stretching, the flesh expanding like something was growing inside her.
Her arms started to inflate wildly, the skin puffing out, the fingers curling, the veins standing out in dark, bulging lines.
And with a sudden-
Pop.
Red.
Pooled underneath her.
The sound was wet and final, a bursting that echoed through the corridor like a gunshot. Lucy's body collapsed, her limbs folding, her torso hitting the floor with a wet thud.
Her lungs were out in the open, turned inside out, glistening and red, rising and falling in the open air. Her chest was a ruin, a cavity, her lungs barely taking in air.
Her eyes were still open.
Staring at nothing.