The serpent-tattooed man stands unmoving, yet the air around him twists unnaturally, thick with a corrupted pressure that crawls across Jonathan's skin. It feels wrong, like standing too close to something that should not exist in this world. The glowing tattoo along the man's neck pulses slowly, each throb releasing waves of dark resonance that clash violently with the Destral Core inside Jonathan's chest.
Lydia steps closer to Jonathan, her voice dropping to a tense whisper. "He's a Blackwell Enforcer," she says. "An Abyss-marked one. They're bound to corrupted Destral entities. Killing machines shaped by ritual and sacrifice."
The Enforcer smiles faintly, clearly amused that she recognizes what he is. "Still sharp, Lydia Collin," he says smoothly. "It's been a long time since anyone spoke that title with such fear."
Jonathan's fists tighten. The name Blackwell burns hotter with every second. "You keep saying his name," Jonathan snaps. "Damian Blackwell. What does he want with me?"
The Enforcer's eyes glint. "Your life was never yours to begin with." He takes a slow step forward, boots crunching against shattered glass. "Lex Mark was one of his pawns. A greedy, ambitious fool who believed power could be borrowed without consequence."
Jack's breath stutters as fury surges through him. Images flash through his mind—Lex's smirk, Marie's terrified face, the betrayal layered beneath years of quiet sacrifice.
"And your wife?" the Enforcer continues, voice almost conversational. "Marie Trump is alive. Hidden. Protected by Blackwell's people. She served her purpose."
Jonathan's chest burns violently, the Destral Core flaring in response to his rage. Lydia grabs his arm, grounding him. "Jonathan, control it," she warns urgently.
The Enforcer tilts his head. "Your 'death' was meant to be the final offering. A ritual to awaken Abyssal power through despair and betrayal. A beautiful plan." His smile twists. "But your little heirloom interfered. The Destral Core rewrote the outcome."
Jonathan trembles, rage and confusion tearing through him. "You planned it," he growls. "You planned my murder."
"Yes," the Enforcer replies calmly. "And now you are an inconvenience."
The air explodes.
The Enforcer moves faster than Jonthan can track, his corrupted energy erupting outward like a shockwave. Lydia's guards barely have time to raise their weapons before they're flung aside, bodies slamming into vehicles and concrete with bone-crushing force.
"Fall back!" Lydia shouts, but it's already too late.
Jonathan surges forward, instinct screaming. He intercepts the Enforcer mid-stride, their fists colliding in a thunderous impact that shakes the street. Asphalt cracks beneath their feet. Parked cars lift off the ground and crash aside as raw force ripples outward.
Jack grunts as pain shoots up his arm, but he doesn't retreat. He swings again, channeling everything he has into the blow. The Enforcer blocks effortlessly, laughter bubbling from his throat.
"There it is," the Enforcer mocks. "All that power, and no idea how to shape it."
He counters with a brutal strike to Jonathan's ribs. Jonathan flies backward, smashing through the hood of a car and skidding across the pavement. His aura flickers violently, barely holding.
Jonathan pushes himself up, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. He charges again, fueled by desperation and fury. Their second clash is even worse, the impact throwing debris into the air like shrapnel.
The Enforcer grabs Jonathan by the throat and lifts him effortlessly. "You don't even know how to use your own strength, heir," he says, tightening his grip. "You're wasting it."
Jonathan snarls, the Destral Core screaming inside him. Power floods his veins uncontrollably. He releases it in a raw, desperate burst.
Light detonates.
Destral energy erupts from Jonathan's body in an unstable wave, tearing the ground apart and forcing the Enforcer back several steps. Jonathan screams as the power rips through him, tearing muscle and nerve alike. His vision blurs, blood pouring from his nose and ears.
"Jonathan!" Lydia rushes forward, grabbing him before he collapses. "Not yet!" she shouts. "You'll kill yourself!"
Jonathan can barely breathe. His body shakes violently as the unstable energy dissipates. He feels hollow, burned out, the Destral Core thrashing wildly within his chest.
The Enforcer straightens slowly, brushing dust from his coat. His smile is gone now, replaced by cold irritation. "Enough," he says flatly.
Dark energy coils around his arm, forming a blade-like construct that hums with lethal intent. He steps forward, every movement radiating finality.
Lydia pulls Jonathan back, placing herself between him and the Enforcer despite knowing she cannot stop what's coming. "Run," she whispers urgently. "If he strikes now…"
The Enforcer raises his arm.
The world freezes.
A sudden column of silver light slams down between them, exploding upward like a celestial pillar. The corrupted energy recoils violently, hissing as it's pushed back. The Enforcer staggers, shielding his eyes.
A cold, composed female voice echoes from the shadows. "Step away from him."
Footsteps emerge from the light.
"He's under Destral Academy protection."
The war has claimed him.
Silver light spills outward, freezing the battlefield in stunned silence. The Enforcer staggers back, snarling as the glow sears the serpent tattoo, forcing it to dim. From the shadows steps a woman cloaked in academy gray, her eyes pale and sharp, power compressed around her like winter air. Operatives hesitate. Even the Enforcer does.
She lifts two fingers. The light tightens, becoming a barrier that hums between Jonathan and death. "Astral Academy jurisdiction," she says coolly. "Any further action constitutes an act of war."
The Enforcer laughs, low and venomous. "So the school claims him." His gaze slides to Jack. "Enjoy their leash, heir. Blackwell always collects."
The silver light fades. Sirens echo. The woman turns to Jonathan, studying him as if weighing a weapon. "You should be dead," she murmurs. "Interesting."
Jack opens his mouth to speak, but the Echo surges. The Core pulses once hard. Pain lances through his skull. A vision fractures reality: a gate cracking, chains snapping, a shadow wearing Jonathan's face stepping through fire.
The woman stiffens, sensing it. "He's resonating beyond tolerance," she warns Lydia. "If the seal breaks again tonight, we won't stop it."
Jack meets her gaze, fear and resolve colliding. "Then don't,"
The serpent-tattooed man stands unmoving, yet the air around him twists unnaturally, thick with a corrupted pressure that crawls across Jonathan's skin. It feels wrong, like standing too close to something that should not exist in this world. The glowing tattoo along the man's neck pulses slowly, each throb releasing waves of dark resonance that clash violently with the Destral Core inside Jonathan's chest.
Lydia steps closer to Jonathan, her voice dropping to a tense whisper. "He's a Blackwell Enforcer," she says. "An Abyss-marked one. They're bound to corrupted Destral entities. Killing machines shaped by ritual and sacrifice."
The Enforcer smiles faintly, clearly amused that she recognizes what he is. "Still sharp, Lydia Collin," he says smoothly. "It's been a long time since anyone spoke that title with such fear."
Jonathan's fists tighten. The name Blackwell burns hotter with every second. "You keep saying his name," Jonathan snaps. "Damian Blackwell. What does he want with me?"
The Enforcer's eyes glint. "Your life was never yours to begin with." He takes a slow step forward, boots crunching against shattered glass. "Lex Mark was one of his pawns. A greedy, ambitious fool who believed power could be borrowed without consequence."
Jack's breath stutters as fury surges through him. Images flash through his mind—Lex's smirk, Marie's terrified face, the betrayal layered beneath years of quiet sacrifice.
"And your wife?" the Enforcer continues, voice almost conversational. "Marie Trump is alive. Hidden. Protected by Blackwell's people. She served her purpose."
Jonathan's chest burns violently, the Destral Core flaring in response to his rage. Lydia grabs his arm, grounding him. "Jonathan, control it," she warns urgently.
The Enforcer tilts his head. "Your 'death' was meant to be the final offering. A ritual to awaken Abyssal power through despair and betrayal. A beautiful plan." His smile twists. "But your little heirloom interfered. The Destral Core rewrote the outcome."
Jonathan trembles, rage and confusion tearing through him. "You planned it," he growls. "You planned my murder."
"Yes," the Enforcer replies calmly. "And now you are an inconvenience."
The air explodes.
The Enforcer moves faster than Jonthan can track, his corrupted energy erupting outward like a shockwave. Lydia's guards barely have time to raise their weapons before they're flung aside, bodies slamming into vehicles and concrete with bone-crushing force.
"Fall back!" Lydia shouts, but it's already too late.
Jonathan surges forward, instinct screaming. He intercepts the Enforcer mid-stride, their fists colliding in a thunderous impact that shakes the street. Asphalt cracks beneath their feet. Parked cars lift off the ground and crash aside as raw force ripples outward.
Jack grunts as pain shoots up his arm, but he doesn't retreat. He swings again, channeling everything he has into the blow. The Enforcer blocks effortlessly, laughter bubbling from his throat.
"There it is," the Enforcer mocks. "All that power, and no idea how to shape it."
He counters with a brutal strike to Jonathan's ribs. Jonathan flies backward, smashing through the hood of a car and skidding across the pavement. His aura flickers violently, barely holding.
Jonathan pushes himself up, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. He charges again, fueled by desperation and fury. Their second clash is even worse, the impact throwing debris into the air like shrapnel.
The Enforcer grabs Jonathan by the throat and lifts him effortlessly. "You don't even know how to use your own strength, heir," he says, tightening his grip. "You're wasting it."
Jonathan snarls, the Destral Core screaming inside him. Power floods his veins uncontrollably. He releases it in a raw, desperate burst.
Light detonates.
Destral energy erupts from Jonathan's body in an unstable wave, tearing the ground apart and forcing the Enforcer back several steps. Jonathan screams as the power rips through him, tearing muscle and nerve alike. His vision blurs, blood pouring from his nose and ears.
"Jonathan!" Lydia rushes forward, grabbing him before he collapses. "Not yet!" she shouts. "You'll kill yourself!"
Jonathan can barely breathe. His body shakes violently as the unstable energy dissipates. He feels hollow, burned out, the Destral Core thrashing wildly within his chest.
The Enforcer straightens slowly, brushing dust from his coat. His smile is gone now, replaced by cold irritation. "Enough," he says flatly.
Dark energy coils around his arm, forming a blade-like construct that hums with lethal intent. He steps forward, every movement radiating finality.
Lydia pulls Jonathan back, placing herself between him and the Enforcer despite knowing she cannot stop what's coming. "Run," she whispers urgently. "If he strikes now…"
The Enforcer raises his arm.
The world freezes.
A sudden column of silver light slams down between them, exploding upward like a celestial pillar. The corrupted energy recoils violently, hissing as it's pushed back. The Enforcer staggers, shielding his eyes.
A cold, composed female voice echoes from the shadows. "Step away from him."
Footsteps emerge from the light.
"He's under Destral Academy protection."
The war has claimed him.
Silver light spills outward, freezing the battlefield in stunned silence. The Enforcer staggers back, snarling as the glow sears the serpent tattoo, forcing it to dim. From the shadows steps a woman cloaked in academy gray, her eyes pale and sharp, power compressed around her like winter air. Operatives hesitate. Even the Enforcer does.
She lifts two fingers. The light tightens, becoming a barrier that hums between Jonathan and death. "Astral Academy jurisdiction," she says coolly. "Any further action constitutes an act of war."
The Enforcer laughs, low and venomous. "So the school claims him." His gaze slides to Jack. "Enjoy their leash, heir. Blackwell always collects."
The silver light fades. Sirens echo. The woman turns to Jonathan, studying him as if weighing a weapon. "You should be dead," she murmurs. "Interesting."
Jack opens his mouth to speak, but the Echo surges. The Core pulses once hard. Pain lances through his skull. A vision fractures reality: a gate cracking, chains snapping, a shadow wearing Jonathan's face stepping through fire.
The woman stiffens, sensing it. "He's resonating beyond tolerance," she warns Lydia. "If the seal breaks again tonight, we won't stop it."
Jack meets her gaze, fear and resolve colliding. "Then don't,"