She stepped through the doorway and vanished into the darkness beyond.
The chamber seemed darker without her.
The white orbs had followed her, leaving only the dim glow of Hoshimi's blade and the faint, pulsing light of the blood that still covered the floor.
Dominic released Hoshimi's wrist.
Stepped back.
His pale blue eyes were fixed on the doorway where Sarah had disappeared, and something flickered in their depths. Something that might have been confusion or might have been relief.
"She's abandoned you," Hoshimi said.
Dominic's gaze snapped back to him.
"So what?" He stared at him.
Hoshimi's blade came up.
The light along its edge had brightened, the runes on its surface shifting, reforming, settling into patterns that seemed almost familiar. He could feel the sword thinking, feel it feeding him strength, feel it pushing against whatever was suppressing his mana.
Hoshimi moved.
Not fast. Not slow. Just there, his blade already in motion, already tracing an arc toward Dominic's chest.
Dominic's hand came up to block.
Hoshimi's blade changed direction.
It was a small adjustment, barely inches, but it was enough. The edge caught Dominic's forearm instead of his palm, slicing through flesh and muscle, scraping against bone.
Dominic hissed.
His other hand shot out, fingers closing around Hoshimi's throat, but Hoshimi was already moving, already twisting, already bringing his blade around in a reverse arc aimed at Dominic's side.
The edge bit deep.
Blood sprayed across the floor, hot and dark, and Dominic's grip loosened.
Hoshimi pulled free.
He landed a few feet away, his chest heaving, his blade dripping. His wrist was aching, his shoulder screaming, his lungs burning. But he was still standing. Still fighting.
He moved.
Hoshimi swung his sword again.
Dominic side stepped, blood rushed to the back of his eyes, forcing his vision to move faster than normal.
Bang.
Smoke rose out of the barrel of his gun.
Dominic had his hand on the barrel.
Kira found the stairwell by accident.
She'd been running blindly through the corridors, following the sounds of fighting, the screams, the crashes. Her feet had carried her down one hallway, then another, then down a set of stairs she hadn't known existed.
The darkness pressed against her from all sides.
She couldn't see. Could barely breathe. The mana in the air was thick and heavy, pressing against her skin like a physical weight.
[I should go back.]
[I should find help.]
[I should-]
A crash echoed from below.
Hoshimi's voice, shouting something she couldn't quite hear. Another crash. The sound of breaking wood, shattering stone, the wet, meaty impact of fist against flesh.
Kira's feet carried her forward.
The stairs ended at a door. Wooden, warped, hanging half-off its hinges. Beyond it, light flickered, violet and crimson, casting strange shadows across the floor.
She pushed through.
The chamber was vast, larger than she'd expected, the ceiling lost in shadow. The walls were raw earth, reinforced with wooden beams that were splintered and cracked. The floor was covered in blood, dark and glistening, pooling in the cracks between stones.
And in the center, Hoshimi fought.
His blade was a blur of violet light, moving faster than her eyes could track. He ducked under Dominic's strike, rolled beneath his guard, drove the blade toward his chest.
Dominic caught it.
Bare-handed. His fingers closing around the edge, blood welling between them, but he held on. His other hand shot out, palm flat against Hoshimi's chest, and shoved.
Hoshimi flew backward.
He hit the far wall, slid down it, landed on his knees. His blade was still in his hand, his knuckles white around the hilt, but his face was gray with exhaustion, his breathing ragged.
"Get up," Dominic said. His voice was cold, flat, emotionless. "She told me to fight until I couldn't anymore. You're not even making me try."
Hoshimi pushed himself upright.
His legs shook. His arms shook. Everything shook, a fine tremor that ran through his body like a current.
[Please, give me the power]
Kira's hands were shaking.
She stood in the doorway, frozen, watching Hoshimi struggle to his feet. His face was bloodied, his clothes torn, his body covered in wounds that were healing too slowly.
"He's going to die."
[If I don't do something, he's going to die.]
Her chest expanded. The skin at the base of her neck opened, a raw, fleshy valve that exuded thin, invisible vapor. She directed it forward, toward Dominic.
The gas spread through the chamber, invisible, silent, deadly.
Dominic's head turned.
His pale blue eyes found her, pinned her in place. His nostrils flared.
His muscles tensed, his vision blurred at the edges but not from the injuries, it was something else. He couldn't breathe, at least not very well, his lungs felt as if they didn't seem to work.
Hoshimi held his breath.
Dominic raised his hand.
The blood on the floor rose with it, a wave of crimson that surged toward Kira, toward the doorway, toward her.
Hoshimi moved.
His blade came down between them, the edge biting into the wave of blood, parting it. The violet light along its edge flared, and the blood sizzled, steamed, evaporated.
"Kira!" Hoshimi's voice was raw. "Keep going!"
She didn't need to be told twice.
Her chest expanded further. The valve at the base of her neck opened wider. The gas poured out of her in a continuous stream, thick and heavy, filling the chamber.
Dominic's hand came up to his throat.
"You're going to kill us both!!"
His eyes widened. His breathing became labored. The blood on the floor rippled, responding to his distress, but he couldn't focus, couldn't concentrate.
"I bet I can hold my breath longer than you can."
Hoshimi moved.
His blade swept toward Dominic's chest, and this time, Dominic didn't block. The edge bit deep, slicing through flesh and muscle, scraping against bone. Blood sprayed across Hoshimi's face, hot and metallic.
Dominic staggered.
His hand shot out, fingers closing around Hoshimi's wrist. His grip was weak, weaker than before, but still strong enough to hold.
Hoshimi's blade came up again.
This time, he didn't aim for Dominic's chest. He aimed for the wound he'd already opened, the one that was still bleeding, the one that Kira's gas was keeping from healing.
The blade sank deep.
Dominic screamed.
It was an ugly sound, raw and animal, torn from somewhere deep in his chest. His grip on Hoshimi's wrist loosened, and he stumbled backward, his hand pressed against the wound, blood pouring between his fingers.
.
His regeneration had slowed to a crawl, the wound refusing to close, the flesh around it turning gray and necrotic.
"I'm going to kill you."
Hoshimi's blade came up for a third time.
Dominic's hand shot out.
Not toward Hoshimi. Toward Kira.
The blood on the floor surged, a wave of crimson that swept her off her feet, slammed her against the wall, pinned her there. Her head cracked against the wood, and her vision went white.
The gas stopped.
Dominic's hand pressed against his chest, and the wound began to close. Slowly, agonizingly, but it closed. His breathing steadied. His eyes cleared.
"She's physically weak," he said.
He raised his hand.
The blood that covered the floor rose with it, a crimson tide that filled the chamber from wall to wall, surging toward Hoshimi, toward Kira, toward everything.
Hoshimi's blade came up.
The light along its edge flared, bright enough to blind, bright enough to burn. The blood sizzled where it touched, evaporated, turned to steam. But there was too much of it. Too much weight. Too much force.
The wave crashed over him.
He lost his footing. His blade slipped from his grip. The blood filled his mouth, his nose, his lungs, and he couldn't breathe, couldn't see, couldn't think.
The blood receded.
Hoshimi lay on his back, gasping, coughing, spitting out mouthfuls of crimson. His blade was a few feet away, its light dim, its runes flickering. Kira was slumped against the wall, unconscious, her chest barely moving.
Dominic stood over him.
His pale blue eyes were fixed on Hoshimi's face, and something flickered in their depths.
He raised his hand.
The blood on the floor rose with it, forming a spear, its tip aimed at Hoshimi's chest.
He drove it into his chest.
Hoshimi clenched his teeth.
His hand closed around something on the floor. Not his blade. Something else. A shard of broken wood, sharpened at one end.
He drove it into Dominic's thigh.
Dominic's eyes went wide. His grip on the blood spear faltered, and it splashed back to the floor in a crimson wave.
"You-"
"Vigil Hexa."
A single translucent hexagon manifested in front of him, Hoshimi kicked it into Dominic's face, shattering in an instant as if it were glass.
He crawled away, grasping at the hole in his chest.
"Vitae Core."
Hoshimi's other hand closed around his blade.
The light along its edge flared, and he drove it upward, toward Dominic's chest, toward his heart.
Dominic caught it.
Bare-handed. His fingers closing around the edge, blood welling between them. But his grip was weak, weaker than before, and the blade kept moving.
Inch by inch.
Closer.
Closer.
The door exploded inward.
Not the one Hoshimi had come through. Another one, on the far side of the chamber, its wood splintering, its hinges shrieking.
Lucy stood in the doorway, hunched over.
Her dark blue hair was matted with blood, her face pale, her eyes wild. One arm was pressed against her chest, held there by a makeshift sling made from torn cloth.
The other arm was gone.
The shoulder ended in a charred, smoking stump, the flesh blackened, the bone visible. Blood dripped from the wound in slow, rhythmic drops, pooling at her feet.
"Brother," she breathed. "Please.."
Dominic's head turned.
His pale blue eyes found her, and something flickered in their depths. Something that might have been recognition or might have been confusion.
"Snap out of it." She raised her hand.
The blood on the floor answered.
It rose in thin threads, weaving together into a net that hung in the air between them, glistening. But there wasn't as much as before. Lucy's injury had cost her, had drained her, had left her weak.
"Zenith of Sloth."
"Zenith of Wrath."
"Hollow Verdict of the King's Mercy."
"Abyssal Theatre."