The cold hum of anticipation filled the air as Nyx’s knife glinted in the dim light, but Alastor’s mind was clear. He could see every detail of the moment—the flick of her wrist as she prepared to strike, the subtle shift in her weight. But this wasn’t the first time he had lived through betrayal.

He had seen it coming.

The Codex of Eternity had revealed it to him—Nyx’s betrayal, her whispered bargain with Lucius. Her choice to trade Alastor’s life for power had been written into the loop’s design, a trial meant to push him to his limits. But Alastor wasn’t just a pawn anymore. The knowledge from the Codex flowed through him like a second heartbeat, giving him the clarity to stay one step ahead of the game.

Nyx lunged, her blade flashing through the air with lethal precision—but Alastor was already moving. He pivoted, sidestepping her attack in one smooth motion, his body moving with the grace of someone who had lived this moment a thousand times before.

Nyx’s eyes widened in surprise, just for an instant—a flicker of disbelief breaking through her carefully crafted mask. She had expected him to be caught off-guard. Instead, she had walked right into his trap.

Alastor’s hand shot out, seizing her wrist with brutal force. The knife clattered to the ground, and Nyx twisted in his grip, her movements fluid and desperate. But he was faster, stronger, more prepared.

"Not this time, Nyx," Alastor whispered, his voice sharp as a blade.

Her lips curled into a snarl, and she slammed her knee toward his ribs—but he was already turning, twisting her arm behind her back. With a vicious shove, he sent her crashing into a rusted pillar, the impact sending a sharp metallic clang reverberating through the empty factory.

Nyx staggered, dazed but far from finished. She grinned—a wild, reckless thing—like a gambler who knew the odds were stacked against her but was determined to play her hand anyway. "You always were hard to kill," she muttered, wiping a trickle of blood from the corner of her mouth.

Alastor didn’t respond. There was no room for words now. He knew what had to be done. There could be no second chances. Nyx’s betrayal had sealed her fate, and if he let her go, she would come for him again—or worse, she’d deliver him straight to Lucius.

She lunged again, faster this time, her movements sharp and unpredictable. She fought like a woman with nothing left to lose, every attack a blur of ferocity. For a moment, they moved in tandem—a deadly dance born from years of shared battles. Blades clashed, fists struck out, and the air filled with the sharp rhythm of combat.

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But Alastor knew her too well. He had fought beside her, trusted her—loved her, in his own way. And that was her downfall. Every feint, every strike—he saw it coming before she even moved.

In a blur of motion, he caught her wrist again—but this time, he didn’t let go. With a quick twist, he disarmed her completely, sending her second knife skittering across the floor.

Nyx snarled, trying to wrench herself free, but Alastor’s grip was unrelenting. He slammed her against the pillar, pinning her in place. For a heartbeat, they were face to face—two predators, locked in a moment of brutal inevitability.

"You should have stayed on my side," Alastor said quietly, his voice heavy with regret.

Nyx’s green eyes gleamed, her breath ragged. And yet, even now, she smiled—a sly, knowing grin. "You knew I’d betray you," she whispered, her voice laced with bitter amusement. "Didn’t you?"

Alastor gave a small nod, his grip tightening. He had seen it all—every step, every betrayal, every fatal move. And still, it hurt.

"Then why did you come?" she asked, her smile widening. "Why did you let me get this close?"

Alastor’s expression darkened. Because I hoped you wouldn’t.

He didn’t say it aloud. It didn’t matter anymore.

In one swift motion, he drove his blade into her chest, the sharp edge slicing through flesh and bone with brutal precision.

Nyx gasped, her body stiffening as the blade buried itself deep. Her breath hitched, but her smile remained, twisted and broken, like a gambler who had lost everything but still reveled in the game.

Alastor held her for a moment, his hand steady, the weight of what he had done pressing down on him like a stone. He had won—but it didn’t feel like victory.

Nyx’s breath came in shallow gasps, her strength fading with every second. But even as life slipped away from her, she smiled. A soft, knowing smile—the kind only Nyx could wear, even in death.

"I told you..." she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Everyone has a price."

Her body sagged in his grip, the life draining from her eyes as the weight of the final betrayal settled between them like a shroud. And yet, that damned smile remained on her lips. Even in death, Nyx was still Nyx—defiant, unpredictable, and dangerous to the end.

Alastor eased her to the ground, his breath shallow, his heart heavy. She was gone—but the bitterness lingered. Nyx had been an ally, a comrade, someone he had trusted in a way he hadn’t trusted anyone else in years. And now, she lay dead at his feet—a reminder that trust was the most dangerous weapon of all.

He stepped back, staring down at her lifeless body, his jaw tight. There was no satisfaction in this. Only the cold, hollow truth that came with survival—betrayal was inevitable.

And as much as it hurt, he had known it all along.