Allen lunged.
He crashed into Darius like a wave of fury, sending the man stumbling back with a surprised grunt. Allen didn't wait. His fists flew—wild, raw, full of every ounce of rage he'd buried deep inside.
One punch. Two. A third.
Darius staggered, blood spraying from his nose as he laughed.
"Ah... there it is," he hissed, wiping the blood with the back of his hand. "The fire. The anger."
Allen didn't stop.
He grabbed Darius by the collar and drove him into the wall with a dull crack, then slammed his knee into Darius's stomach. The man gasped, doubling over, and Allen grabbed his head, slamming it down on his rising knee.
But Darius wasn't soft.
He roared and retaliated, throwing a vicious elbow that caught Allen in the jaw, sending him stumbling back.
"You think fighting will save her?" Darius growled, his face bloodied but smiling. "You're too late."
Allen spat blood to the side and charged again.
Every move was reckless, untrained. But it didn't matter. Allen wasn't fighting with skill—he was fighting with something deeper.
He grabbed Darius by the shoulders and slammed him onto the rusted floor, punching him over and over.
"I warned you not once but twice," Allen growled between each blow. "I let you walk away and yet, you had the audacity to bite back!"
Another punch.
"You came after my sister."
Another.
"I swear, you don't get to live after this."
Darius twisted his body, using his legs to kick Allen off. The force sent Allen crashing into a nearby metal tray, the clang ringing loud through the abandoned hall.
Darius stood, panting, one eye already swelling shut.
"You're stronger than I expected," he muttered, wiping blood from his lips. "But that won't matter. The pill's already inside her. You can punch me all you want—she won't wake up... Ever again! This is the last time you will see her."
Allen got to his feet slowly, his chest rising and falling in uneven bursts.
"You talk too much," he said, his voice low.
Then he moved again.
This time it was fast and focused. Allen ducked under a wild swing, then drove his shoulder into Darius's gut, lifting him and slamming him to the ground again. The floor cracked beneath the impact.
Allen straddled him, raining down fists like a storm.
Darius tried to block, but Allen was relentless.
"If I had known, I would have ended things back then" Allen snarled. "All these wouldn't have happened if I had killed you."
Darius reached into his coat for something—but Allen grabbed his wrist and twisted, bones snapping audibly. Darius screamed.
"Bastard!"
Allen's knuckles were raw, split open, bleeding. But he didn't stop. Not until Darius stopped moving. Not until the grin on his face had disappeared.
He sat there, breathing like a beast, his hands trembling from the fury still boiling in his veins.
Then he turned—eyes falling on Mia again.
She hadn't moved.
"Mia..." His voice cracked.
He rushed to her, kneeling beside the chair. Her skin was pale. Her breathing was shallow.
He untied her gently, holding her close. "I'm here. I've got you."
But she didn't respond.
And that scared him more than anything.
"Wake up... Please... I'm here now... Wake up..."
But Mia remained silent.
And Allen—bloodied, bruised, and shaking—held her tighter as dread began to claw its way into his heart.
A sudden sound—quick footsteps, the creak of a boot on rusted metal.
Allen's instincts flared.
He turned in a flash, adrenaline surging through his battered body. His hand shot out blindly—caught something solid.
A neck.
The other man, the one who had been standing in the shadows earlier, let out a choking gasp as Allen's bloodied fingers clamped tightly around his throat.
Allen rose to his feet, dragging the man up with him, his hand unmoving, his grip tightening like a vice.
"You..." Allen growled, eyes glowing with rage. "You stood there. You watched all this happen."
"I-I was just following—orders!" the man gasped, clawing at Allen's arm.
Allen didn't flinch. "Then you picked the wrong person to obey."
He shoved the man hard against the nearest wall, making it groan under the impact. The man gagged, legs kicking weakly in the air.
"You helped him. You let him touch her."
"I swear— I didn't know— what he gave her!"
Allen pulled him back, then slammed him against the wall again.
"I don't care what you knew!"
There was a pause. A silence heavy with threat.
Allen leaned in close, his voice a low growl beside the man's ear. "Tell me everything. Now. What was in that pill?"
"I don't know!" the man gasped. "H-He just said it was from a raid. Something old. He didn't even test it!"
Allen's grip tightened, and the man began to wheeze.
"I swear, I didn't know he'd actually use it—he said it was just a trap! Just to lure you!"
Allen stared into the man's eyes—seeing the fear, the regret.
Then he flung him to the floor like trash.
The man coughed, curling on the ground, cradling his throat.
Allen towered over him. "If something happens to my sister, I'll not only make you pay. Your entire family will pay for it!"
The man didn't speak—only nodded quickly through rasped breath.
Allen turned back to Mia, rushing to her side again. Her breathing was getting more slower.
He bit down a scream. His hands hovered over her chest, helpless.
Then his voice came out, cold and desperate. "I need to find out what that pill was… There has to be something. Someone who knows…"
He turned to the man again, fury rising anew.
"Who else was with Darius? Who gave him that pill?"
The man hesitated.
Allen took a step toward him.
"Answer me or you die!" He yelled.
"I swear, I don't know. He only said he got it from a raid. According to him, there is no cure for it," the man replied, moving backwards.
Allen stood there—silent.
The words "there is no cure" rang in his ears like a funeral bell. For a moment, the world seemed to still. Even the air felt colder.
His fists clenched.
"No..." he muttered, stepping forward slowly. "You're lying."
"I'm not! I swear— He said it has no cure!"
Allen slammed his fist into the nearby wall, cracking the metal. The man yelped and fell to his knees, trembling.
"She's not dying!" Allen bellowed, voice filled with anguish. "Do you hear me?! She's not going to die!"
The rage in his chest burned like wildfire, but beneath it—buried deep was fear. A raw, gnawing fear that he was already too late.
He turned back to Mia, collapsing beside her.
"No cure? No cure doesn't mean no hope," he whispered, more to himself than anyone else. "There's always something. Always."
He wiped the sweat from her forehead with a shaking hand. Her lips were pale now. Her breath barely there.
Allen clenched his jaw, eyes flashing with determination.
"If this came from a raid," he said slowly, "then it came from a dungeon. That means it has a source. And if it has a source… then there's a way to reverse it."
He looked at the man again.
"Where was the raid?"
"I—I don't know exactly," the man stammered. "I swear I don't. I'd I knew, I'd have told you."
Allen's mind spun.
Before anything else, he had to take her to the hospital.
Allen carried Mia immediately. "You, you must come with me. If you don't, I'll kill you here and bury."
"Y-Yes, I'll come with you."