Blades carved through the darkness of a ruined hallway, each clash catching a fleeting shimmer of moonlight. Chaos churned in every swing, every spark born from steel meeting steel.
Claire barely parried another strike from the silver-haired man, her arms trembling from the impact. Each blow drove her further back, her advantage slipping with every exchange. The moonlight caught the desperation in her eyes—she was outmatched, and they both knew it.
Across the hallway, Rose stood with her back against the wall, chest heaving as she summoned a thick haze of ice that crystallized around a group of approaching assailants. Their bodies froze mid-stride, faces trapped in expressions of surprise. She tried to glimpse Claire through the chaos, catching only flashes of her friend stumbling backward, weapon raised in increasingly clumsy defense.
"Claire!" Rose called out, but the sound vanished into the cacophony around them. She managed one step in her direction before being forced back by another surge of attackers, their shadows merging into a single advancing threat.
Liene hadn't moved from where she'd fallen. She watched Claire's fight deteriorate with each passing second, her fingernails scraping against the stone floor until her fingertips went numb. The thought echoed in her mind with sickening clarity: she couldn't help. Couldn't even stand.
The academy had become something unrecognizable. In the distant corridor, Professor Renji tore through opponents with cold efficiency, his movements economical and lethal. Beside him, Chompy's scaled body coiled and struck, each breath releasing streams of flame that illuminated the corridor in harsh, shifting light. The hallway between them and Claire might as well have been miles.
Across the building, desperate scenes unfolded in isolated pockets. East wing classrooms became fortresses—furniture dragged across doorways, students bracing against the makeshift barricades while teachers calculated their dwindling options. The history students had broken display cases, arming themselves with artifacts never meant for combat. Down the hall, acrid smoke poured from beneath the chemistry lab door, the students inside having turned their experiments into weapons of necessity.
The cafeteria had transformed into its own battleground. Head Chef Maeve stood at the entrance, butcher knife held low and ready. Behind her, Fiora gripped her own smaller blade with white knuckles, silently passing Maeve whatever implements came to hand—ladles, cleavers, rolling pins—as shadowed figures pressed toward them.
"You picked the wrong damn day to raid my kitchen," Maeve growled, her massive frame blocking the entrance completely.
Meanwhile, in the headmaster office, Isaac stood at his window, watching as flames began to consume sections of his beloved academy. His reflection stared back at him—impassive, calculating. Without a word, he turned and walked out, leaving his half-finished tea steaming on his desk. Whatever he planned, it wouldn't be from the safety of his office.
Takumi assessed the situation with a quick scan—too many bodies between him and Claire. His lips curled into a grim smile as he crouched, scythe extended behind him in a practiced stance. His boot scraped against the floor, gathering energy until a blue light pulsed around the soles.
"Excuse me," he muttered, "coming through."
With a violent stomp, Takumi launched himself skyward, sailing over the heads of students and assailants alike. His eyes narrowed as he watched Claire attempting to hold off the man's relentless assault, her movements growing increasingly desperate. Her hair swayed as she kept trying to push them back while simultaneously parrying strikes.
His scythe caught the moonlight as he raised it high overhead, then brought it down in a vicious arc that clashed with the man's cane with a building grunt. He'd switched in just as Claire's defense broke—she'd been launched backward from a prior heavy slam, her surprised yelp echoing in the hallway as she tumbled gracelessly across the floor.
Behind them, Liene watched his intervention with hollow eyes, her own inaction a weight heavier than any defeat. Her fingers curled into fists, trembling not with fear but with a frustration so deep it bordered on self-loathing.
Takumi attempted another sideward arc, but his slash phased through the man, who stood unfazed with a knowing smirk. As the gray-haired figure solidified and twirled for a slam, preparing to strike, time seemed to slow. Takumi's defenses were open, his body unable to reposition in time to parry the incoming attack.
But suddenly, a shoge warped its rope, the kyoketsu hooking onto the cane before yanking it back. The man bent backward, surprise briefly flashing across his otherwise composed features. Liene flew forward, her hands gripping the rope as she pulled him away from Takumi before he could retaliate.
Claire's attention sharpened suddenly, her posture shifting as something primal recognized the opening before her conscious mind could process it. Without hesitation, she moved with lethal intention toward the left of Takumi's position, creating a perfect line of sight.
Her hand reached back for her bow in one fluid motion, muscle memory guiding her fingers to the exact right position on the grip. The weapon came up as she left the ground, her body arcing through the half-light with predatory grace, a stark contrast to her usual movements.
The world narrowed to this single moment—her eyes reflecting cold determination as they caught the moonlight streaming through the tall windows. She drew back the bowstring with unwavering precision, the scattered chaos of the hallway fading into irrelevance as she sighted her target. Nothing existed but the arrow, her intent, and the space between them.
Energy gathered at her fingertips, spreading to the arrow in a cold white glow that cast harsh shadows across the planes of her suddenly expressionless face. In this moment, Claire was transformed—a hunter, a warrior, something ancient and sure that lived in her blood.
She released. The arrow cut forward, trailing light as it manifested her stellar skill, Astral Shot. It crossed the distance with piercing efficiency, carrying the full weight of her deadly intent.
The gray-haired man tilted his head slightly—the only acknowledgment of the threat—before redirecting his cane with eerie precision to parry. But the force pierced through his defense nonetheless. He was sent flying backward, his body cutting through dust motes illuminated in the moonbeams before skidding across the decaying floor. The impact sent fragments of rotted wood swirling into the stale air.
The spell broke instantly as Claire crashed to the floor with an ungraceful thud, limbs splayed at odd angles like a dropped marionette. Her bow clattered beside her, sliding just out of reach.
"Ow... th-that wasn't supposed to—" Claire whined, blowing a strand of hair from her face with a puff of breath. She tried to stand up with what she hoped was dignity but immediately stepped on her own shoelace, pitching forward. She caught herself on the wall, her cheeks burning with embarrassment in the darkness. "S-sorry, I just... need a second."
"Almost cool, Claire. Pretty close that time," Takumi muttered, scratching at the back of his head as he straightened from his defensive stance. The moonlight cut a sharp line across his face, deepening the hollows beneath his eyes while he studied the spot where the silver-haired man had landed. "Though your landing could use some work. Maybe try feet first next time?"
Claire opened her mouth to retort, closed it, then opened it again before settling on a mumbled, "I... yeah. Next time."
"Don't kid her, boy. You're impressed. I can see it all over that smug face of yours. Admit it," Liene called as she dropped down beside him with liquid grace. Half her face was claimed by shadow, the other lit just enough to catch the flicker of something predatory in her gaze—a thought she wasn't about to share.
She leaned toward Claire with a playful smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "You fight better when you forget people are watching, little sparrow. It's adorable, really."
Claire hugged her arms around herself, searching for a comeback that wouldn't come. She settled for retrieving her bow, fingers tracing the curve of it for reassurance.
Takumi's fingers shifted along the haft of his scythe, making the blade tilt and catch the moonlight in a dangerous gleam. "Wow. Gonna paint me the bad guy now? Real convenient how that works out for you. What's next — accusing me of kicking a puppy on the way here?"
"Heh," Liene shrugged, voice dipping to something silkier, meant for just them. "What can I say? I'm good at what I do."
She leaned in, just enough to brush the edges of his space without quite crossing a line, flashing that sly half-smirk she knew got under his skin. A slow, deliberate flick of her tongue across her upper lip, followed by an exaggerated, almost mocking wink. Every bit of it calculated.
"Besides," she purred, "someone's gotta keep that inflated ego of yours from floating off."
Takumi sighed through his nose, lips twitching into a crooked, reluctant half-smile. "Yeah, sure. You'd start a war just to have the last word."
"My, my…" Liene cooed, her grin widening. "Missed me, didn't you, boy?"
"I-I think he's—" Claire's warning died in her throat as a chill ran down her spine. She could feel it—the oppressive weight of attention falling over them like a shroud.
A sound like cracking ice echoed through the hallway as the gray-haired man rose to his feet. No stumbling, no signs of pain—just a fluid, unnatural movement that seemed to bend the shadows around him. The air grew cold, heavy with unseen pressure that made Claire's ears pop.
"Eyes up," Takumi murmured, more to himself than to the others.
Claire's fingers tightened around her bow, knuckles white with tension. For once, she didn't think about her awkwardness or what the others might think of her. The gray-haired man took a step forward, and the ancient floorboards didn't even creak beneath his weight.
Her body moved before her mind could catch up, falling into a fighting stance that felt as natural as breathing. In the dim hallway, bathed in ghostly moonlight that streamed through cracked windows, Claire felt her conscious mind step aside as instinct took over.
The gray-haired man smiled—just barely—and the temperature in the hallway seemed to drop another degree.
Claire pushed herself up, wincing at the sting in her palms. Her elbow caught on a loose thread in her jacket as she tried to tug it straight, nearly toppling her precarious balance. She dusted off her skirt with three uneven swipes, then fumbled with hair that clung in loose strands to her cheek—blowing ineffectually at one particularly persistent strand that kept finding its way back to the corner of her mouth.
"S-sorry," she mumbled to no one in particular, though neither of her companions was paying her any attention.
She stole a quick glance at her scuffed boots (had she tripped that many times tonight?), then at the two already standing ahead of her—Takumi poised with practiced confidence, scythe glinting coldly in the fractured light, Liene half-swallowed by shadow with that unreadable, faintly amused look that always made Claire feel like she was missing something obvious.
Before them, the silver-haired man crouched in the broken light spilling through the cracked, towering windows of the old hallway. The moon's glow barely reached the floor now, slanting through hanging dust that seemed to shy away from his presence. His silhouette should've looked defeated... but it didn't. Not entirely. There was something about the tilt of his head, the slow, deliberate rise of his shoulders, that felt wrong—like watching a snake coiling before it strikes.
Claire's breath caught in her throat, the hair at the nape of her neck standing on end. Her fingers flexed uselessly by her sides, reaching twice for her fallen bow before her nervousness made her knock it another inch away. She froze, mortified, heat crawling up her neck.
"Three against one?" the man spoke at last, voice smooth as silk, amused, laced with a mischief that felt colder than the night air. A faint smile pulled at his lips. "It occurs to me... that might not be fair, hmm?"
Takumi scoffed, rolling his shoulder back with a predatory kind of ease. "Yeah? Well, it ain't exactly fair to barge in and start throwing bodies around uninvited. Should've sent a card first—'Planning to crash your party with homicidal intent, RSVP.'"
Claire felt the tension crackle in her chest like static electricity. She recognized the opening, knew she should contribute something—anything—to maintain their united front. Her mouth opened before her brain had assembled the words.
"Y-yeah! What he... uh, what he said!" she blurted, too loud, her voice cracking on the last word. She immediately wished she could dissolve into the shadows or at least burrow beneath the rotting floorboards. A nervous laugh escaped her, making everything worse.
Liene's lips twitched, a glint in her visible eye as she shot Claire a sidelong glance. "My, how eloquent," she purred, just loud enough for Claire to hear.
Claire's shoulders hunched reflexively, fingers twisting together at her waist.
Then—a soft buzz barely audible over the distant clang of fighting down the halls. The silver-haired man's finger pressed to the side of his ear with elegant precision. His gaze flicked to the corner of the room, then back to them, a smirk slowly unfurling like a shadow blooming in moonlight.
"Well," he murmured, rising with a grace that felt like something unearthly, every movement fluid, unhurried—as though the fight hadn't left a mark. "It seems our little charade here must come to an end. A pity... though one must abide by the call when it comes."
The temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees. Claire wrapped her arms around herself, trying to suppress a visible shiver. Even Takumi's typical grin faded into a guarded scowl, his knuckles whitening around his weapon.
"I must apologize," the man continued, brushing dust from his sleeve with meticulous care, his tone light and impossibly civil. "The night oughtn't to have ended so abruptly, but... it is what it is, as they say." His smile widened, never quite reaching his eyes. "I'll commend you—truly—for your resilience. Not bad for children fumbling about in shadows. But allow me one word of advice..."
His gaze settled on Claire last, pinning her in place like a butterfly to a board. She tried to meet his stare with defiance but found herself looking at his collar instead, a muscle in her jaw twitching as she fought the urge to step backward.
"Don't go sticking your noses where they don't belong."
Then, sharper—a command rippling through the eerie stillness: "Men, move out."
A sharp whistle cut through the thick, stifling air.
The figures in the shadows, which Claire had almost forgotten about in the tension of the moment, froze as one entity. Without hesitation, they turned and sprinted toward the shattered windows. Even those who moments ago had lain motionless stirred like puppets, driven by some unseen force—limbs moving with unnatural synchronicity that made Claire's skin crawl.
One by one, they leapt through the tall panes into the darkness beyond. Glass crunched underfoot, boots struck marble, and then... nothing. Just the whisper of night air through broken windows and the soft patter of disturbed dust returning to the floor.
Claire's stomach twisted into a tight knot. She tried to speak, but nothing came out on her first attempt. She swallowed hard, forced her voice to work.
"W-what...?" The word emerged as barely more than a squeak.
The silver-haired man lingered by the last window, half his face lost in shadow. He turned, that same calm smile playing at his lips, moonlight catching on the edge of his teeth.
"Oh, how discourteous of me," he said softly, as though they were guests at a ruined gathering rather than survivors of an attack. "To arrive uninvited, linger… and leave without offering something in return."
"Wow, manners and menace — you're just the whole package, aren't you?" Takumi shot back, frowning in irritation. "But hey, don't strain yourself on my account."
A crooked tilt of his head, a quiet smirk — the stranger seemed almost amused by Takumi's retort. His gaze swept lazily over the ruins around them.
Claire's hands clenched reflexively at the hem of her jacket, twisting the fabric until her knuckles went white.
"Consider this… a keepsake. I'd hate to be forgotten."
And then he was gone — a blur of pale hair and dark cloth vanishing into the night, leaving behind only the soft rush of displaced air.
For a moment, the world held its breath. Claire realized she was doing the same, her lungs burning with the effort of holding still.
Then — a sharp, unnatural whine cut through the silence. Faint at first. High-pitched, constant.
It came from the fallen creature — Chompy. Its chest hitched in ragged, uneven rises. Claire's pulse jumped. A cold sweat broke across her brow.
"Oh, great," Takumi muttered, his frown deepening. "Because this night wasn't shit enough already."
Claire turned too fast, nearly tripping over a piece of debris. She caught herself against the wall, eyes locking onto a flickering red light at the collar around Chompy's thick neck — likely planted by the stranger's men.
The sound quickened. Sharper, faster. A quiet, urgent whir beneath the hum of dying lights.
"Uh… guys?" she tried, her voice barely more than a whisper. She cleared her throat, forcing it louder. "G-guys? I'm not, uh… an expert or anything, but that looks… y'know… catastrophically bad."
A thin arc of lightning cracked across the beast's frame, illuminating Claire's wide eyes in stark blue-white.
It spasmed, its body lurching upright with a raw, strained roar that vibrated through the stone beneath their feet. The light on its collar pulsed rapidly now, each blink sending another jolt through its limbs, contorting its massive frame.
Students scattered. Some bolted for the far end of the hall, others threw themselves behind fallen pillars or overturned tables. A few stood frozen, wide-eyed, unable to look away—Claire almost among them until Takumi's sharp movement broke her trance.
Takumi's hand tightened around his scythe, knuckles white against the dark metal. "Of course," he muttered. "Guy couldn't just leave without a dramatic exit."
Lightning arced through Chompy's body, veins of pale fire crawling across metal and flesh. It spasmed violently, its form warping, distorting into something grotesque beneath the surge. The creature's eyes rolled back, leaving only whites streaked with pulsing red.
Without hesitation, Takumi lunged forward, aiming to tackle the beast and tear the device from its neck — but the moment his hands reached for it, a brutal swipe sent him crashing sideways into the wall. The impact rattled the stone, a sharp grunt of pain tearing from his throat.
Claire and Liene could only watch, frozen, the scene playing out in a blur of horror and disbelief.
Renji appeared from a side hall, grabbed two students by their collars, and shoved them toward the exit.
"Move it!"
Another surge. The ceiling cracked overhead, dust and loose stone cascading down in a thin haze that caught the moonlight like falling stars.
A sudden, guttural snarl tore from the creature's throat — and without warning, it unleashed a sweeping arc of fire across the room. The searing beam carved through the air, an incandescent wave of heat and light.
Claire ducked instinctively. Beside her, Liene dropped low with practiced ease, a sharp grin flashing even in the chaos. Rose yelped and scrambled after them, the blaze passing just inches overhead and leaving a molten scar across the far wall.
Takumi lunged forward, grabbing Claire's sleeve and yanking her a step back as a chunk of debris crashed down where she'd stood heartbeats before.
"Th-thanks," she managed, the word almost lost beneath the rising roar.
With a final, pained howl that seemed to split the very air, the creature launched upward, smashing through stone and glass in a burst of light and debris. Sparks and broken marble rained down as it vanished into the night sky, leaving a trail of flickering embers like a grotesque shooting star.
Then—stillness.
Dust hung heavy in the air, caught in pale shafts of moonlight pouring through the fresh hole in the wall. The sharp scent of scorched metal lingered, electricity crackling faintly across scattered debris. From somewhere deeper in the halls, distant, frantic voices called out in confusion.
Claire's voice broke the silence, small and uneven. "I… I really don't like that guy."
Takumi huffed a dry breath, wincing as he rolled his shoulder. "Yeah. Get in line."
Claire glanced up at the jagged tear in the ceiling, a shiver crawling from the base of her spine to her shoulders. It wasn't just fear threading through her veins — though there was plenty of that — but something heavier. A knot of uncertainty, low in her stomach, stubborn and cold.
Beside her, Takumi let out a quiet grunt and pushed himself up from the rubble-strewn floor. He winced as he rolled his shoulder, brushing dust from his clothes like it mattered.
Claire managed a weak, uneven laugh, her fingers tightening around the fabric of her jacket. The knot in her stomach didn't loosen.
The air hung thick, dust drifting through pale shafts of moonlight, and somewhere above, the sky split with another sharp, distant roar. Through the opening, she caught glimpses of scattered figures below, some fleeing, others frozen in place. Flashes of blue-white light painted the night in harsh strokes before fading again into shadow.
She swallowed hard, the sound loud in the sudden stillness.
Lightning still lingered in the air, sharp against the back of her throat. Claire's fingers brushed against a loose thread on her sleeve before finding the curve of her bow. She held it this time without trembling.
The hallway around them was a mess of rubble and ruin, the walls scorched and cracked. Smoke curled in thin wisps. Takumi stood nearby, scythe loose in his grip, his posture relaxed in the way that meant he was anything but. Liene, half-shrouded in gloom, wore that same unreadable look — neither concerned nor amused. Just quietly watching.
None of them spoke.
Above them, the creature's silhouette cut across the moonlight, its movements no longer desperate but deliberate, a predator in its element. The courtyard below was chaos, voices rising and falling like waves, some calling for others, some simply screaming.
Claire drew in a breath, her limbs heavy and tense. The weight of what might come next pressed against her skin like a second atmosphere.
"Oh gosh..."