""They treat me like a fox, a cunning fellow (Schlaukopf) of the first rank. But the truth is that with a gentleman I am always a gentleman and a half, and when I have to deal with a pirate, I try to be a pirate and a half."
- Otto von Bismarck (1815-1898).
2 Months Later (Neo-Berlin, Earth 02)…
The first officer exhaled a stream of smoke, eyes narrowing as he glanced at his partner. "That's ridiculous. Monsters?" He scoffed, shaking his head. "We're not dealing with urban legends here, just some poor kids who got caught up in something bad." The second officer leaned in, his voice hushed. "Then explain the reports. The coroner's notes said their limbs were elongated, their skin hardened like bark—one had horns growing from his skull." His face was pale, as if the memory alone sent a chill down his spine. "You really think that's normal?" Before the first officer could respond, the sound of footsteps echoed through the corridor. Detective Ingrid Mahler entered the room, her presence commanding immediate attention. Her coat was dusted with rain, her auburn hair pulled back in a tight bun. She tossed a folder onto the desk between them. "Read that," she said. "Tell me what you make of it." The first officer stubbed out his cigarette and flipped open the folder. Crime scene photos tumbled out—images of contorted bodies, faces frozen in expressions of unearthly agony. One child's mouth was stretched open unnaturally wide, jagged teeth protruding from swollen gums. Another's fingers had fused together into gnarled claws. He swallowed hard. "Jesus Christ." Mahler folded her arms. "Three bodies so far. All children reported missing within the last month. Their parents received emails a few days before the bodies turned up, warning them of a 'metamorphosis.' They thought it was some kind of sick prank."
The second officer shook his head. "Until they got their kids back." Mahler nodded grimly. "We have one survivor. The only one who came back before the transformation was complete." The room went silent. Then the first officer asked, "Where is the kid now?" "At St. Catherine's Psychiatric Ward," Mahler said. "But if you're expecting answers, don't hold your breath. The doctors say he barely speaks." The second officer raised a brow. "Barely?" Mahler hesitated before replying. "The only thing he says is a name. Over and over again." The first officer leaned forward. "Whose name?" Mahler's voice was barely above a whisper. "Doctor Anton Volker." The two officers exchanged uneasy glances. The name rang a bell—Volker was once a celebrated geneticist before he disappeared under mysterious circumstances. Whispers of unethical experiments had followed him for years, but no concrete proof had ever surfaced. The second officer spoke first. "So you think this guy is behind it?" Mahler clenched her jaw. "I think we need to find him before another child does." Before anyone could say another word, the phone on the desk rang. The first officer picked it up. A child's voice, distant and distorted, came through the receiver. "They're watching." The line went dead.
Back on Helios in Nova's Compound, Ungar and the others were looking over at Nova's computer screen. Nova cracked his fingers in the shape of a man praying. "As you can see the forces of the Infidel factions are falling apart, the government should be floored with us, we'll be shipping out to space in a little over a month and we got a lot to show for it. Talus and Lupus we'll have to catch up with since they're still doing their martial arts training in the Spirit Realm." Ungar sighed: "And what about that demon that nearly killed Hermes? Do we have any idea where he ran off too? And what about Kakia and the others they haven't struck in a month we're due for one soon." said Ungar. Nova turned in his chair, his sharp eyes glinting behind his tinted glasses. He tapped a few keys, pulling up a holographic map of the galaxy. "Krampus is a slippery bastard, but we've tracked some unusual energy spikes near the Vadris Nebula. It's faint, but it matches his signature. As for Kakia and the others… they've gone completely dark. No sightings, no intercepted communications. That's what worries me." Ungar crossed his arms, his expression hardening. "They're planning something. We need to be ready." Mark began to think to himself: "That monster, what he did to that poor girl (referring to Frim)." Nova interjected: "Wait a minute, we just got a spike,... it's at your junior school actually "Xelios High School," some weird sightings, of an incident involving three deformed children found in a back alley, this was 2 days ago. The last person to see them was this kid named "Frank." He currently lives alone with his mom and…ok, well it's settled." Nova turned around, "Mark, you're going to tail him." Mark clenched his teeth: "ME, WHY ME???!!!" Demi: "Because you're the only young boy in our immediate group you silly goose!" Nova: "She's right. The three teenage boys we're found dead in a movie theater. This boy is in Homeroom 4B, I'll pull some strings you'll be at the highschool tomorrow."
In the Spirit Realm, The wind howled as Lupus and Talus pressed forward through the endless expanse of snow. The Eastern Mountain loomed high above them, its jagged peaks shrouded in mist. Each step crunched beneath their boots, the cold biting at their exposed skin. Then, through the swirling frost, a structure emerged—a pagoda, standing solitary amidst the snowdrifts. Golden lanterns flickered through the haze, and the scent of burning incense carried on the wind. A young woman in saffron robes stood at the entrance, her delicate hands clasped together in greeting. "Travelers," she said, her voice calm despite the chill, "you are far from home. The storm will worsen come nightfall. Rest here." Lupus exchanged a glance with Talus. They were exhausted from their ascent, and the warmth spilling from the pagoda was tempting. "We appreciate the hospitality," Talus said, shaking off the snow from his cloak.
Inside, the temple was sparse but welcoming. The woman, who introduced herself as Sister Mei, prepared tea by a brazier, the fragrance of jasmine filling the air. "Few make this journey," she said. "What brings you so high into the mountains?" "Training," Lupus replied curtly, watching her carefully. Something about her presence felt too perfect, too precise. She merely smiled and set out sleeping mats for them. "Rest well, warriors." That night, the cold winds screamed against the pagoda walls. Talus awoke first, his instincts screaming that something was wrong. The air had changed—it was thick, heavy with a scent that was no longer incense. Shadows twisted unnaturally in the corners of the room. Then he heard it—a low, guttural growl. He rolled over and saw Sister Mei, her once-kind face warped into a grotesque mask of hunger. Her mouth stretched unnaturally wide, revealing rows of jagged teeth. Her fingers elongated into blackened claws, dripping with malice. "Lupus, wake up!" Talus shouted, rolling to the side just as the creature lunged. Claws scraped against the wooden floor where his head had been. Lupus was already on his feet, sword in hand. "Damn it. I knew she was too nice." The demon's mouth split into a wicked grin. "You should have left when you had the chance." With a shriek, she launched herself at them, her form shifting—limbs lengthening, skin peeling away to reveal the writhing darkness underneath. The room trembled as her true presence filled the space. Talus swung his staff in a sweeping arc, slamming it against her torso. She screeched, momentarily recoiling, but the impact barely slowed her. Lupus dashed forward, his blade flashing as it sliced across her arm. Dark ichor spilled onto the floor, hissing like acid as it met the wood. "She's tough," Talus gritted out, dodging another swipe of her claws. Lupus bared his teeth in a grin. "Then let's make this fun." The pagoda trembled as the battle raged. Lanterns shattered, casting erratic shadows as the demon twisted and shrieked. Snow blew in through the open doors, mixing with the unholy mist rising from the creature's wounds. The fight had only begun.
A boy at a high school asked a girl out, she not only rejected him but told three of the boys in her class. The other boys took the boy out and began to physically abuse him. "You really thought you could ask her out, a woman with those rocking tits and slender frame would never take you out on a date." The boy cried out: "Why couldn't you just say no and then move on, we could move on with our lives there's no reason for y0u to do this." Another one of the kids said: "Shut up you're pathetic." Another shouted: "Kick him in the dick!" The kid stood up and said: "The only reason they're doing this for you. Is because they want to fuck you." One of the boys knocked him out and then peed on him. The girl was looking on and cheering for the boys. They began to leave the campus and walked through an alleyway. They were proud of their work, and shouting in pride until a voice was heard, "That wasn't very nice." One of the kids shouted: "Who is it!!" The air around them began to spin more and more and more, until a figure appeared from the shadows with a sinister grin on his face, it was Krampus. "Well, well, bullying an innocent student you know he's the right little lady they beat up that boy just because they want to lay pipe inside you. Good news boys, she's easy, so you shouldn't have any problems." One of the men got angry and impulsive and began to throw fists but Krampus dodged every blow like it was nothing. Krampus then grabbed the boy's face which then bloated up and he became a dead decaying beast. Krampus did this to the other two boys and then finished off the girl." As soon as it was done he noticed that the boy (Frank) had seen him. Krampus tried to get away but the boy asking for him ran after him around the corner. A group of female students noticed Frank run into an ally when they followed him they found the rotting monstrous bodies and immediately called the police.
Eventually Frank caught up with the demon and Krampus actually was receptive; he invited Frank to this abandoned warehouse, Frank admitted that he had psychic powers and he had them for years but he was worried about using them on other people. Krampus laughed: "Humans have to understand something. They fool themselves that they have a moral compass but it's all bullshit at least for the vast majority. Some people are naturally good but if they're good naturally that's just like the instinct of a squirrel it matters little. Human Beings are ultimately a function of their souls and they fear punishment and value reward. Religion is a favorite of theirs whether it's the Gods and the Pharaohs of Ancient Egypt, the Pantheon of Rome, the Banner of the Cross, the Sword of Islam, or the faith of the Hindus, human beings are drawn to the way of the soul to live forever selfishly because of the will of God or gods or their own will or something else entirely or they following the way of flesh Fascism, Marxism, Capitalism, Gluttony, Greed, Sex, Perversion, and when you manipulate someone's soul you can get something like this." He pointed to a person who was tied up screaming for help. He shot a wave at him and he bloated up to enormous size with green goo oozing off his face. "This is the power of soul manipulation, but it only works if the person has a weak enough soul. Once it's completed the person's as good as dead. Though they're life was pathetic to begin with." Frank interjected: "Why, why do it though?" Krampus put his hands behind his head and walked away slowly: "Why do anything really. Why shouldn't I die in a war for my God or my Fuhrer. Why shouldn't I cheat on my wife, Why shouldn't I sleep with little girls, why shouldn't I fuck kids, why shouldn't I achieve ultimate power and dominate the world, why not become a monk, these are questions Humans ask themselves and I just say this. Just do whatever makes you happy, and if not hurting anyone doesn't make you happy that's fine as well. But for me this is my joy and my freedom." Frank was intrigued. Krampus: "I can teach you to wield these powers, so you can better use them against people who abuse you later down the road." Frank looked at Krampus without the ability to turn away.
Mark was responsible for following this kid; he was led there by Nova who was disguised as a teenager. Nova explained: "Look according to all records Frank uses this route to go home from school everyday, just follow him on this route. "Frank lives alone with his mother. His father died when he was 6. He's a loner type, big Gamer. If he's connected with Krampus nothing should come of this for at least a few days, have dinner with his mom, play video games and watch anime with him, get him comfortable and if we're right about the connection we'll know soon enough." Mark sighed as he adjusted his backpack, glancing down at the small earpiece Nova had given him. After a certain point Nova stayed clear of the school and spoke to Mark through a communication device. "This is ridiculous," he muttered under his breath. "Dinner and video games? I'm not a damn spy." "You're undercover, genius," Nova's voice crackled in his ear. "Just get in, make friends, and don't screw it up. If Frank has had any real contact with Krampus, we need to know before it's too late." Mark exhaled sharply and fell in line behind Frank, who was walking at a steady pace down the cracked sidewalk. The kid had a hunched posture, hands shoved deep into his hoodie pockets. He looked like someone trying very hard to disappear into the background. "Hey," Mark called out casually. Frank turned, his sharp eyes scanning Mark from head to toe before nodding slightly. "You're in my homeroom, right? Mark, was it?"
"Yeah," Mark said, stepping up beside him. "I heard you play 'Cyberdawn Expanse.' I'm kind of a god at that game." Frank scoffed but smirked slightly. "Oh yeah? Doubt it." "Guess I'll have to prove it. What do you say—game session at your place? You got that new update?" Frank hesitated, then shrugged. "Yeah, sure. My mom usually makes extra food anyway. But I'm telling you I'm not your average gamer." Mark mentally fist-pumped. Nova's plan was working. Frank's apartment was small but well-kept, filled with the warm scent of home-cooked food. His mother, a woman in her late thirties with dark hair and tired eyes, greeted Mark with a kind smile. "It's nice to finally see Frank bring a friend over. I'm Maria. Welcome, Mark." "Thanks, Mrs. uh—" "Just Maria is fine," she said, setting plates on the table. "You boys eat first. Then you can go do whatever it is you do." Mark gave Frank a sideways glance as they sat down. "Man, your mom's cool." Frank shrugged but there was a flicker of pride in his eyes. "She's alright." The evening passed smoothly. They ate, talked about games, and argued over anime rankings. Mark declared you're crazy: "Dragon Ball is the OG Anime: you got all the greats: Goku, Vegeta, Piccolo, Master Roshi, it's uncontested." Where Frank said back: "No One Piece is the greatest of all time, and the Strawhats are a rung higher than even the Z Fighters." Whereas Frank loosened up, laughing more than Mark expected. His mom even joined them for a bit, watching them play and occasionally commenting on how Frank used to be terrible at video games when he was younger. It was… normal. Nice, even.
Mark had to remind himself why he was here. He had a mission. But the more time he spent with Frank and Maria, the more he wondered if Frank was really tied to Krampus or just another lonely kid looking for something to believe in. As the night wore on, Maria handed Mark a cup of tea and sat across from him. "Frank doesn't open up to people much," she said softly. "Thank you for being here." Mark shifted awkwardly. "Uh, yeah. No problem." Maria studied him for a moment before smiling. "You remind me of my husband. He had that same look in his eyes—like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders, but he'd never let anyone see it." Mark's throat tightened. He hadn't expected to like Frank's mom so much. Or for her words to hit so close to home. "Mark?" Frank called from the living room. "You gonna rematch me or what?" Mark cleared his throat and grinned. "Yeah, yeah, don't cry when I wreck you." As he sat back down beside Frank, controller in hand, he realized something unsettling. He didn't want this to be fake. For the first time in a long while besides the people at the compound, Mark had made a real friend. And if Frank was involved with Krampus, Mark would be damned if he let him go down that path alone.
Eventually Frank was alone with Mark. Before Mark went home really back to the Compound late at night. Frank said: "You know before you showed up today I was about to give up on people. But you showed up and I don't know things are different now. Besides my mom, I didn't think I could really care about anyone else. Thank you, Mark." Mark didn't know what to say except: "You know you and I aren't so different, I lost both my parents when I was young and I've been a straggler ever since. So keep your chin up and things will get a little easier." Frank explained that the bullies at his school knew magic and spells, Frank's magic was more powerful than any of theirs, they could merely summon demons he could do much more. But he was afraid to hurt others."
In Neo-Berlin, For a moment, no one moved. The static hum of the dead line buzzed faintly in the receiver before the first officer slowly lowered it back onto the cradle. His fingers lingered on the phone as if expecting it to ring again. Mahler exhaled sharply. "Trace the call. Now." The second officer was already on it, barking orders into his radio. The room felt colder, as if something unseen had slithered in through the cracks. "A kid?" the first officer murmured, rubbing his temples. "Christ. That voice... it sounded off." "Distorted," Mahler agreed. "But a kid nonetheless." "Or something that wants us to think it's a kid," the second officer muttered under his breath. Mahler shot him a look but said nothing. Her fingers drummed against the desk as they waited for dispatch to trace the call. Seconds stretched into minutes before a response crackled back through the radio. "Location found," the dispatcher reported. "Call originated from a landline at an abandoned property—Maplewood Orphanage." Mahler's blood ran cold. "That place has been shut down for years," the first officer said, shaking his head. "No working phone lines, no power." "And yet," Mahler said, already grabbing her coat. "Let's move."
The orphanage loomed against the night sky, its skeletal frame barely visible in the heavy mist. The front gate hung open, creaking softly in the wind. Peeling paint and shattered windows bore testament to decades of neglect. "No sign of forced entry," the second officer noted, flashlight sweeping across the overgrown yard. Mahler approached the entrance, gun drawn. The door groaned as she pushed it open, revealing a dark corridor lined with crumbling wallpaper. The air was thick with dust and something else—something wrong. A whisper. Faint, almost imperceptible. A child's voice, drifting through the silence. They're watching. The officers exchanged uneasy glances before stepping inside. Floorboards moaned beneath their weight as they advanced cautiously, flashlights cutting through the gloom. The old orphanage smelled of damp wood and decay, but there was something sharper beneath it—a metallic tang that sent alarm bells ringing in Mahler's mind. Then they saw it. At the end of the hall stood a single, rusted wheelchair. Sitting in it was a boy no older than ten. His head was bowed, hands folded neatly in his lap. His clothes were tattered, his frame unnaturally thin. As Mahler took a step closer, the boy's head snapped up. His eyes were entirely black. And he smiled. The lights flickered. The temperature plummeted. Then, the boy spoke. "You're too late." After this all the lightbulbs in the orphanage exploded but nothing else occurred.
Later that night, Detective Mahler drove home through the rain, "What the hell was going on? We're not crazy, clearly something paranormal seems to be happening." Mahler was a staunch Atheist and a believer of Science this didn't make any sense, her father was a lapsed Catholic but her mother was a devout member of the Catholic Church. She never bought into it though. She was smoking a cigarette. The rain was cold and the lights of the neon cities blurred everywhere. She entered the police station and met with Police Chief Engelbert, "Mahler, I heard you went down to the orphanage today. Did you find any leads?" Mahler responded skeptically, "There seemed to be paranormal activity there sir, everyone else saw it as well, but it can't be such events never take place in this world, when you're dead, you're dead, it's lights out and if you manage to make it into the ground you just end up as worm food. So I know everyone, including myself, is wrong." The Police Chief sat down: "Well frankly I'm agnostic about this sort of thing but whatever is going on you need to figure it out. The mayor is up my ass, he can't make the case of the deformed teenagers disappear. Besides rumor has it the press is going to publish a story about the Mayor having an illicit affair with some high-class prostitute, needless to say his wife will be pretty upset. It's just two weeks before an election so it will do nothing but hurt his chances. And in turn I'm being raked over the coals over this orphanage nonsense. You see my point?" Mahler nodded: "I see your point sir." Englebert declared: "Good, we'll get back to work. I'll be doing my part as well."
Meanwhile, Krampus was speaking to a small group of demons. "So you have him under your power right?" Krampus declared: "Yes, he just needs a little push." Later one night when Frank was out late at the movies by himself Frank's mom woke up in the night to a rustling. It was a large, terrible creature looking like some kind of fleshy hellspawn caterpillar. Maria shrieked but in an instant she was gone the caterpillar devoured her. Frank returned early in the morning before school started and found the remains of his mother and the caterpillar which he killed, he assumed one of the bullies at his school did this. He was so angry he couldn't even think. Later that day he stormed down to the school and began to cause a metaphysical ruckus. Throwing things around with his mind. All the kids were gathered in the greenhouse to hear some announcement. But the door was thrown open and across the room everyone turned around to see Frank Berger standing there. "Which one of you did it?" he said." Silence fell over the greenhouse. The soft hum of the ventilation system was the only sound as Frank stood in the doorway, his fists clenched at his sides, his eyes burning with fury. The students looked at one another, confused, uneasy. Some muttered under their breath. Others shifted nervously, sensing the wrongness in the air. The glass walls trembled as a faint ripple of energy pulsed outward from Frank, making the potted plants quake and rattle in their containers.
Mark pushed through the crowd, heart pounding. "Frank! What the hell are you doing?" Frank's eyes snapped toward him, dark with rage and something else—something deeper. "Stay out of this, Mark. This isn't about you." Mark took another step forward, lowering his voice. "It is if you start hurting people. What happened? What's going on?" Frank's lip curled. "Like you don't know. One of them did it. One of them killed my mom. I came home and she was—she was—" His voice cracked, and for a moment, his hands trembled. But then his expression hardened again. "I won't let them get away with it." Mark felt a sinking dread settle in his stomach. He didn't know the full story, but he could see it—Frank was on the edge, standing at the precipice, and if he took one more step, there might be no coming back. Mark remembered the day his mother was killed he knew the feeling all too well.
"You think one of these kids did it?" Mark gestured to the students, many of whom were now looking at Frank with a mixture of fear and confusion. "You don't know that. And even if they did—" He exhaled sharply. "You think this is the way to fix it?" "You don't understand," Frank hissed. A nearby chair flew across the room and shattered against the wall. Several students gasped. "They've been messing with magic for months. They summon demons like it's a game. But I can do more than them. And now, I'm going to make them pay." "Frank—" Mark began, but another pulse of energy surged through the air, knocking him backward. The other students screamed, scrambling toward the far end of the greenhouse as the plants twisted and contorted, vines stretching unnaturally, leaves shriveling and blackening as if scorched by unseen fire. Mark coughed, forcing himself to his feet. "You're letting Krampus win. You know that, right? This is exactly what he wants. He wants you to lose control, to let your power consume you. He's setting you up. He wants to catch me, Frank, he doesn't care about you." For a moment, something flickered in Frank's eyes—hesitation, doubt. But it was gone in an instant. "Krampus showed me what the world really is, Mark. It's ugly. It's cruel. And people like me—people like my mom—we're just stepping stones for the ones who take what they want. Well, I'm done being stepped on."
"And what? You're gonna become like them? You think turning into a monster will make any of this better?" Mark's voice was desperate now. "I know what it feels like to lose someone, Frank. I know what it's like to be angry, to want revenge. But you can't let it eat you alive. You're better than this." Frank clenched his teeth, his breathing ragged. His powers trembled around him like a storm barely held in check. The glass panes above them creaked dangerously under the strain. Then, from the back of the greenhouse, a voice spoke. "Frank?" Everyone turned. Nova stood in the doorway, hands raised in a placating gesture. "You don't have to do this. Whatever happened to your mom… we'll figure it out. But if you cross this line now, there's no going back." Frank's expression twisted. "There is no going back." The glass above shattered. Mark lunged, tackling Frank to the ground as shards of glass rained down around them. Screams erupted. The greenhouse groaned as the supernatural energy surged through it, cracking tiles and warping the structure. "Let me go!" Frank thrashed against Mark, but Mark held on with everything he had. "You don't want to do this, Frank. You don't want to be the monster Krampus wants you to be." Frank froze beneath him. The energy in the room wavered, then flickered out like a dying flame. Breathing hard, Frank stared up at Mark. His face twisted in anguish. "I don't know what to do." Mark swallowed the lump in his throat. "Then let's figure it out together."
"There's a group of people that you would love, you could be a part of it." Images appeared of Frank being around Mark, Hermes, Qayyim, Zaiyal, Narcis Martreya Buddha, Ungar, Talus with a scowl, Prince Lupus with his arms crossed angrily, and some of the others. As he said this with tears in his eyes Krampus appeared behind Frank. Krampus shot a burst of energy that sealed Mark to the wall. "Krampus stop! He's my friend!!" Mark began to shout: "Frank, I don't care what you may or may not have done, I don't care about your prior relationship with him, get away from him now!! HE'S DANGEROUS!!" Frank began to say: "No you don't understand the situation with Krampus, he's a good pers…" as he said this Frank was turned into a bulbous useless frog like monster. Krampus began to laugh, "HAHAHAHAHAHA! He has at most a minute and a half to live. Mark broke out of the seal and ran up to Frank. The creature that was Frank called out as it gasped for life, "Help me, help me, Mark…" after he said this Frank fell face down and melted becoming a pile of fleshy goo. Mark began to see the image of Frank in the group, and then it was xed out over and over and then he finally snapped.
An explosion of fire burst from Mark. "Damn you! How can you be so heartless? He was a good kid, he trusted you… You fucking monster! YOU'RE AS GOOD AS DEAD!!" Mark leaped through the air and punched Krampus in the face. Krampus was stunned: "Where did this child gain so much power? He could actually do some damage to me." The force of Mark's punch sent Krampus skidding backward, his feet digging deep grooves into the shattered greenhouse floor. The demon wiped a trail of dark ichor from his split lip, his twisted smile widening. "Impressive," he sneered. "You're finally showing some teeth." Mark barely heard him. His vision blurred with rage, the image of Frank's grotesque, melting form burned into his mind. He clenched his fists, flames licking up his arms like living entities, feeding off his fury. "You took him from me," Mark growled, his voice low, dangerous. "You took my friend." Krampus chuckled darkly, shaking his head. "No, Mark. He was never yours to save. Frank made his choice. And now, he's where all the weak belong—forgotten. He had a weak soul, that's why I was able to do what I did. It would be a waste to mourn him."
Something inside Mark snapped. With a roar, he launched himself at Krampus, fists wreathed in flames. The demon barely had time to brace before Mark struck again, a flurry of blows hammering against his chest and head, each impact reverberating with supernatural force. Krampus snarled, retaliating with a backhand strike, but Mark dodged, twisting mid-air and planting a searing kick against the demon's ribcage. Krampus crashed through the glass wall, vanishing into the swirling storm outside. Mark landed in a crouch, his breath ragged, his entire body trembling with raw power. He could still hear Frank's last words, the desperate plea for help. It fueled the fire inside him, made it burn hotter, wilder. Behind him, the other students stared in stunned silence. Even those who had dabbled in dark magic knew this was something else entirely—Mark was stronger than any of them had ever imagined. "Mark," Nova called hesitantly over the ear piece, "Are you—"
A deep rumble interrupted him. The ground beneath them quaked as an unnatural wind howled through the ruined greenhouse. A shadow loomed in the swirling dust, and then Krampus emerged, his form smoldering, his eyes glowing with malevolent amusement. "Well, well," he mused, cracking his neck. "You actually hurt me. That hasn't happened in a very long time." His clawed hands flexed, dark energy coiling around his fingers like serpents. "Let's see how long you can keep up." Mark didn't hesitate. He lunged again, but this time, Krampus was ready. The demon caught Mark's punch mid-strike, the sheer force sending shockwaves through the air. Mark's flames roared higher, but Krampus merely grinned, tightening his grip. "You're strong, boy," he whispered. "But strength alone won't save you." A surge of dark energy exploded from Krampus's grasp, sending Mark flying backward. He crashed into the broken remnants of a wooden table, pain lancing through his ribs. Before he could recover, Krampus was on him, grabbing him by the throat and lifting him effortlessly into the air. "You still don't understand, do you?" Krampus hissed. "This world doesn't care about justice. It doesn't care about friendship. The strong take, and the weak suffer. That's the only truth. You and your worthless slave morality and sentimentality make me sick." He squeezed tighter, Mark struggling against his iron grip. "Frank was weak. Just like your mother." Rage ignited in Mark's core, hotter than anything he'd ever felt. A deep, primal power surged through him, obliterating the pain, the doubt. His eyes burned white-hot, his entire body erupting in a corona of golden flames. The very air around them distorted, warping under the sheer intensity of his power. Krampus's smirk faltered. "What—"
Mark seized Krampus's wrist, and with a guttural yell, he unleashed an explosion of fire so intense it shattered the remaining greenhouse walls. Krampus howled, stumbling back, his fur singed, his armor glowing red-hot. Mark landed in a crouch, his fists still blazing. He looked up, eyes gleaming with pure fury. "You're wrong," he said, voice steady, unyielding. "Frank wasn't weak. He was lost. And you took advantage of that. Just like you tried to take advantage of me. You're nothing more than a lowly predator near the bottom of the food chain." Krampus sneered, but there was an edge of caution in his expression now. "And what do you plan to do, boy?" he taunted. "Kill me?" Mark exhaled, steadying himself. "No," he said. "I'm going to make sure you never take another friend away from me again."
Back at the Pagoda in the Spirit Realm, Talus ducked low as the demon's claws sliced through the air where his head had been moments before. The force of the swing sent a gust of wind howling through the pagoda, rattling the remaining lanterns. Lupus seized the opening and lunged, his blade carving a deep gash across the creature's chest. A terrible wail filled the chamber, reverberating off the wooden walls. The demon staggered, its form flickering as if struggling to maintain its shape. Blood seeped from the wound, sizzling upon contact with the floorboards. Talus didn't hesitate—he pressed forward, his fist glowing with a soft, silver light. He struck again, the impact sending the creature sprawling against the wall. The moment of triumph was fleeting. With a final, piercing shriek, the demon's body began to convulse. Shadows writhed around it, consuming its monstrous form. The darkness coiled like living tendrils, wrapping tightly before bursting apart in a blinding flash of golden light.
When the radiance faded, the monstrous form was gone. In its place knelt a serene figure, her robes pure white, embroidered with intricate golden patterns that shimmered in the dim light. Her face, once twisted with malice, was now calm, her features delicate and wise. A faint aura of divine energy surrounded her, soft yet unmistakably powerful. Lupus and Talus stepped back, weapons still raised, their breath ragged from the battle. The woman opened her eyes, and they were deep pools of compassion and understanding. "You have done well," she said, her voice carrying an otherworldly tranquility. "You have fought with strength, courage, and most importantly, unity." Talus exhaled sharply, realization dawning upon him. "Guanyin…" he murmured, lowering his staff. The Goddess of Mercy inclined her head in acknowledgment. "This was your trial," she said. "To see beyond fear, beyond rage. To fight not only with skill but with heart."
Lupus let out a breath, rubbing the back of his neck. "You could've just asked us to do some meditation, you know." Guanyin smiled, a glimmer of amusement in her eyes. "True wisdom is forged in hardship. You sought strength, but it is balance that will lead you forward." The pagoda, once damaged from the battle, now stood untouched, as though time had rewound itself. The wind outside had calmed, the once howling storm reduced to a gentle snowfall. Guanyin extended her hands, and in them appeared two lotus flowers, their petals gleaming with ethereal light. "Take these," she said. "A symbol of what you have endured. And a reminder that strength is not only found in battle, but in understanding." Lupus and Talus exchanged glances before each took a flower. As their fingers brushed the petals, warmth spread through their bodies, the fatigue of battle melting away. Guanyin rose to her feet, the air shimmering around her. "Your path continues beyond these mountains," she said. "Walk it with wisdom, and you will find what you seek."
Before they could respond, her form dissolved into golden mist, drifting like petals on the wind. Silence settled over the pagoda. Lupus exhaled. "That was intense. Hopefully I got stronger." Talus nodded, rolling his shoulders. "Yeah. But at least we passed." As they stepped out into the crisp mountain air, the storm now a distant memory, they knew their journey was far from over. But with renewed strength and understanding, they were ready for whatever lay ahead.
In Neo-Berlin, Detective Mahler was strangely unable to find any prior information on the orphanage. There was no information on the orphanage in any of the archives. Mahler frowned at his screen, scrolling through the fragmented, redacted documents that barely hinted at the existence of the orphanage. It was as if it had been wiped clean from history. He tapped his fingers on the desk, deep in thought. No records in the municipal archives, no tax filings, no legal documentation—nothing. Yet, it had existed. Witnesses confirmed its presence. Survivors whispered about it in hushed tones, though their memories seem hazy, inconsistent. Something was wrong. He leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples. "Someone went through a lot of trouble to erase this place," he muttered. "But why?" A chime from his computer interrupted his thoughts. An anonymous message popped up on his screen: "You won't be asked again. STOP DIGGING." Mahler's pulse quickened. He wasn't easily rattled, but this felt different. He typed back quickly: "Who are you?" No response. A second later, his entire screen went black. A few heartbeats later, a single line of text appeared in white: "THE CHILDREN WERE NEVER MEANT TO BE FOUND." Then, just as suddenly, his system rebooted itself. Everything was back to normal, as if nothing had happened. But Mahler knew better. Someone was watching. She reached for his phone and dialed a secure number. "Olek? We've got a problem. Someone is trying to bury this deeper than we thought." A pause. Then a low, gravelly voice replied, "Where do we start?" Mahler exhaled. "With the survivors. If we can't find the orphanage on paper, we'll find it in their memories."
Back at the Greenhouse, the fight continued for a few more minutes until Krampus and Mark knocked each other back. They stared at each other for a moment and then it was clear that Ungar and Narcis were about to arrive. They both crashed through the clash in the ceiling, Ungar landed on Mark's left and Narcis on his right. Ungar: "Are you okay Mark?" Mark nodded. Krampus began to laugh: "Well, I guess I'll be leaving now. But I promise we'll meet again. Hehehehehehehehehe." Krampus jumped backwards and he disappeared into the floorboards, Mark tried to run after him but it was no use Krampus had gotten away. Mark began to pound the ground with his fist and the flames that came from it, but after a short time he just began to cry. Tears streamed from his eyes, he began to sob uncontrollably. Ungar and Narcis exchanged a glance but said nothing. The battle was over, but its cost lingered in the air, heavy and suffocating. The greenhouse, or what remained of it, stood in shattered ruin around them. Snowflakes drifted through the broken ceiling, landing on Mark's trembling shoulders as he wept. The golden flames that had burned so fiercely moments ago flickered and died, leaving only the raw pain beneath.
Nova's voice crackled over the earpiece again, hesitant. "Mark… talk to me." He couldn't. His throat felt tight, his body drained. He'd unleashed everything he had against Krampus, and still, it hadn't been enough. Frank was gone. The thought gnawed at him, a deep, hollow ache that no amount of rage or power could fill. Ungar placed a heavy hand on Mark's shoulder. "You fought well," he said. "But this isn't the end." Mark squeezed his eyes shut, willing the tears to stop, but they wouldn't. He'd promised himself he wouldn't break. He'd told himself that as long as he fought hard enough, as long as he was strong enough, he could save the people who mattered. But he had failed. Just like with his mother. Narcis crouched beside him, his expression unreadable. "Krampus will be back," he said. "And next time, you won't be alone." Mark let out a ragged breath, his hands curling into fists against the cold floor. He wanted to believe them. He wanted to believe that there was still a way forward, that this wasn't the end. But Frank's absence felt like a wound that wouldn't close. A sharp wind cut through the ruins, carrying with it the echoes of distant sirens. The others were coming—reinforcements, teachers, those who would demand answers. Mark didn't have any to give. Narcis rose first, offering a hand. Mark hesitated before gripping it, allowing Narcis to pull him to his feet. His legs wobbled, exhaustion weighing him down, but he refused to collapse again. He couldn't afford to.
Ungar looked toward the shattered doorway. "We should go," he said. "There's nothing left for us here." Mark nodded, swallowing hard. "Yeah." But as they turned to leave, a chill ran down his spine. Somewhere in the howling wind, beneath the echoes of destruction, he swore he heard laughter—low, cruel, and promising.