The headline BREAKING NEWS flashed across the screen. The host, a seasoned journalist with an unflappable expression, looked particularly animated tonight.

“We have some promising developments tonight, folks. Reports are coming in that several of the small fiery pits scattered across the nation have been closed… permanently.” She leaned forward, her eyes gleaming. “These mysterious pits that have plagued us since the undead began appearing are finally being sealed shut.”

The screen cut to a solemn woman with cropped silver hair, standing behind a podium adorned with the crest of the Hero Association. The caption read, Director Evelyn Stroud, Magic Department, Hero Association.

“After significant research and effort,” Director Stroud said in a clipped, measured tone, “we’ve devised a reliable method to close these pits for good. I can’t disclose the specifics, but I assure you, this is a major step forward in regaining control over the situation.”

The feed returned to the host, whose voice was laced with optimism. “This is truly a glimmer of hope, folks. Let’s keep believing in our heroes and supporting the incredible efforts they’re making to keep us safe. Together, we’re going to get through this.”

***

Alexia dashed to the garage, her pulse still racing from the encounter. She spotted her tablet on the floor and grabbed it, realizing with a start that the video call with Clayton hadn’t ended. The screen showed Clayton pacing back and forth in his small, cluttered quarters down in the underground city, looking anxious.

“Clayton!” she called, practically shouting. “The undead stopped. It’s so peaceful now! You were right, that statue was the key somehow. And… I am still here, I guess, because the sorcerer guy already knew everything, he just left.”

Clayton stopped mid-step, his eyes widening. “Alex, that ‘sorcerer guy’ you’re talking about was the Sorcerer King himself. The Sorcerer King!” He ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head in disbelief. “And yes, this is insane. I mean, you got to see the Sorcerer King in the flesh! In action”

Alexia blinked, letting it sink in. “… that’s why he looked so familiar! And yeah, it was incredible— it turned out the statue had some dark magic in it, that was why, He… he cleansed it, he cleansed the living daylights out of that shit. It’s completely gone.”

“Well, he is the most powerful sorcerer in the world, afterall.” Clayton chuckled, eyes gleaming. “And before you ask me if he could beat Sunstriker—no, not even close.”

Alexia laughed, rolling her eyes. “How did you know I was going to ask that?”

Clayton just shrugged, a small grin tugging at his mouth. “I just know, Alex.” His tone softened. “But for now, forget about all that, alright? Let’s just enjoy the quiet for once. No more undead, no more anxiety… maybe, finally, a decent night’s sleep.”

Alexia paused, hesitating. “He did mention something about—”

“Nope.” Clayton shook his head firmly, cutting her off with a gentle laugh. “Not tonight, Alex. Let’s just savor the peace. We’ll figure out the rest tomorrow. Deal?”

She sighed, a warm smile spreading across her face. “Yeah, alright. Thanks, Clayton.”

“No worries. We’re in this together.”

Alexia lay in bed, eyes closed, willing herself to relax. She’d craved this kind of peace for days—finally, a quiet night without undead battering at her door. But sleep didn’t come easily. The Sorcerer King’s words echoed in her mind: people had been spying on her.

Who were they? Were they the same figures who had slinked around her house that first night? Her mind spiraled with questions, forcing her to stay on high alert. She reluctantly kept her senses sharp, every creak and shift in the room amplified. Eventually, the silence was too much of a force that it cured her uneasiness, and finally, she got what she always wanted–a deep, relaxing sleep… too deep.

When she finally opened her eyes, the clock read 6 a.m, and the room was shrouded in a tense stillness. Her heart stopped as she saw them—four figures in dark suits, standing in her bedroom. Three held pistols aimed right at her, and a fourth sat in a chair near her bed, a menacing smirk on his face. Alexia glanced down and felt the cold bite of metal; she was bound to the bed with thick chains.

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The man in the chair leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with disdain. “Alexia Ryland. I can’t believe you betrayed us like that.” His voice was laced with bitter amusement. “We gave you everything you wanted—wealth, power. And yet, you repay us with this.”

Alexia’s heart remained calm, slipping into the character they thought she was. She let her face fall, softening her expression, forcing her features into something submissive, wounded.

The man narrowed his eyes, as if daring her to respond. “The shrines were not to be disturbed, but you…” He sneered, glancing away in disgust. “You brought that abomination into its presence.” He spat the word, his face twisting as he referred to the Sorcerer King. “Now that you have power, do you think you’re one of them now? That suddenly, you belong among those freaks? Have you forgotten what you stand for?”

Alexia’s mind raced. This was her golden chance to extract the truth.

“I didn’t call him,” she pleaded, her voice shaking. “He just barged in! I’d never betray your trust… please, you have to believe me.”

The man in the chair sneered, his gaze cold. “Is that so? You didn’t call him?, that means, he came because you opened the shrine’s door. Then, you are nothing more than a stupid slime, I’ve told you a thousand times—don’t touch the door. You had one job: keep the shrine safe, undisturbed, and most importantly, do not open the fucking door.”

He rose, pacing with measured anger, his voice growing darker with each step. “The door held back its energy, kept it hidden from anyone who might sniff it out. Do you understand what you’ve done? You ruined our plan, you stupid, stupid girl.”

Alexia kept her expression desperate, wounded, swallowing her anger. “I… I’m sorry. I didn’t understand how important it was. I… I didn’t know.”

He stopped, giving her a hard look, then scoffed. “How could anyone be this dim? I told you, over and over—” He paused, rubbing a hand over his face in frustration. “Maybe that was my mistake. I should have told you exactly how much hinged on that statue. Then again, how can I trust a dumb broad with critical information?”

He shook his head, muttering to himself. “The plan failed. That statue was one of the links keeping the pits open, and now it’s gone. But it doesn’t matter anymore. It’s ruined.”

Alexia felt a thrill of discovery beneath her carefully composed mask. One of the links keeping the pits open? She needed more. “Please, please spare me,” she murmured, her voice pitiful. “Tell the leader I’ll never make that mistake again—”

The man slapped her hard, cutting her off. Pain stung her cheek, but she stayed in character, looking up at him with frightened eyes.

“No more talking, girl,” he snarled, his eyes roving over her with a perverted glint. “I actually liked you, you know. A pretty little thing to play with.” He smirked, his gaze dropping, violating. “The High Priestess doesn’t need to know. She’ll come up with something new, anyway.”

One of the men at his side leaned in and whispered something. He nodded, letting out a chuckle. “Oh, go ahead. Have a little fun with her. I’ll be waiting outside.”

He turned and left the room, closing the door behind him.

"Let’s have some fun, pretty—" one of the men leered, reaching for her. But that was where she drew the line, before he could finish, the chains around Alexia snapped with a sharp, metallic clink as she tore them apart, standing with an icily calm expression. Her demeanor had shifted entirely—gone was the frightened, submissive woman they'd thought they had cornered.

One of the men faltered, eyes widening as he took a step back, the woman towering him. “Who… who are you? You’re not her—the pet. She’d be begging by now… Where are those puppy-dog eyes?” He took another step back, the realization dawning that this wasn’t the Ryland they knew.

The door creaked as one of them bolted for it, but Alexia moved faster, seeming to materialize in front of him. She caught his gaze with a chilling stare before snapping his neck in one swift motion. The others barely had a moment to react; she knocked them down one by one, each meeting the same swift, sleeping time.

Her face was expressionless as she left them lying unconscious, making her way calmly to the garage. The man from before sat waiting, a smug grin on his face.

“Over already, boys?” he said, not looking up, admiring the car. But when he did, his grin faded. It wasn’t one of his men—it was Alexia.

“Get your filthy hands off my car,” she said, her voice cold, unrecognizable.

The man’s face twisted in a scowl. “Where are my boys?”

“Sleeping.” Her voice was low, emotionless. “I am gonna feed you to the zombies, but before that, you’re going to tell me everything.”

She was in front of him before he could even react, moving so quickly he almost believed she’d teleported. His eyes widened in shock as he tried to reach for a weapon, but she wrenched it from his grasp and snapped his arm in a clean, brutal motion.

He howled in pain, but Alexia’s face remained impassive. “Who are you? Tell me who you’re working for?”

He gritted his teeth, glaring at her. “You think you’re someone special now? Some hero? You’re just another disposable asset.”

She twisted his leg with a sickening crack. “You’re going to talk.”

But he refused to answer, breathing hard through the pain. Alexia raised her hand, ready to deliver a final blow, when a shimmer of light filled the garage. The Sorcerer King appeared, his presence overwhelming, and he stepped calmly between them, casting a long shadow across the battered man.

"Now, now, Miss Sage," he said with an amused smile. "I knew there was more to you. But let’s not be too hasty, shall we?”

Alexia’s grip tightened as she glared at the Sorcerer King, daring him to interfere.

"Miss Sage?!" the main thug, gasped, his eyes darting between them with dawning horror.

The Sorcerer King raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Oh dear, Franco… didn’t you realize? All that spying, all those little sneaky attempts to monitor her—and you still didn’t figure out your precious ‘Ryland’ had been swapped out? Tsk, tsk! How… embarrassingly incompetent of you."

Franco’s face paled. "How… how do you know my name?"

The Sorcerer King gave a small, casual shrug. "Knowing names is one of my many talents. Like knowing that statue you were all so fond of was keeping a few nasty things in check." He gave a whimsical sigh, then gestured to Franco. "Now, this one still has… let’s call it ‘potential.’ I’ll take it from here, Miss Sage, if you don’t mind.”

As Alexia loosened her grip and stepped back, Franco's lips curled into a sneer. “Sage… if it weren’t for you, that statue would never have been found. I can’t believe I blamed Ryland.” His eyes held a venomous glint.

“Oh, please,” the Sorcerer King interjected with a mischievous smile. “I knew about the statue’s location ages ago, thanks to you. Did you really not notice you were being spied on?”

A flicker of shock crossed Franco’s face, but it quickly turned to a dark grin. His jaw tightened as he bit down on something hidden in his mouth. “Sage,” he spat, choking on his final breaths, “this isn’t over. The plan… still… stands… and if you’re here, then there… are…” His voice trailed off as his body fell still, his eyes empty.

The Sorcerer King sighed theatrically, his hands clapping together in mock disappointment. “Oh, bummer. And here I was, just getting ready to enjoy a good, juicy confession.” He tilted his head, giving Franco’s lifeless form a playful pout. “No sense of timing whatsoever. I swear, villains these days.”

Turning back to Alexia, he gave her a wry grin. “Well, that certainly complicates things. But no worries—I do love a mystery.”.