The night was thick with tension, the streets of Skylance slick from a recent rain, neon lights reflecting off the wet pavement. Alastor moved carefully through the narrow alleyways, his instincts humming with warning. Something felt off. But Nyx had been insistent: there was information—critical information—waiting at this meeting spot, intelligence that could tip the balance in their war against Lucius and the Pyramid.

She had told him Lucius Cipher’s location. It was the kind of opportunity that couldn’t be ignored. If Lucius could be eliminated before the final stage of their plan, the rebellion would have the edge it needed. The old god could fall—and with him, the loop.

Nyx had sounded eager—too eager. But Alastor ignored the doubt gnawing at him. He needed to believe there was still a chance to end this war without more loss, without becoming what he hated. If killing Lucius now could save lives, he had to try.

He stepped into the meeting spot—an abandoned industrial district on the edge of the city. The heavy steel doors of an old factory stood ajar, faint wisps of mist curling along the ground. The silence was unsettling. It felt too perfect, too staged.

Nyx waited for him near the entrance, leaning casually against a rusted pillar, her dark hair pulled into a sleek braid. She looked relaxed, almost smug, the faintest glimmer of amusement dancing in her emerald eyes. She wore a long black coat that seemed to melt into the shadows around her, and her familiar smile—playful, predatory—curved across her lips.

"You made it," she said smoothly, her voice light. "I was starting to think you’d lost your nerve."

Alastor’s jaw tightened, his eyes scanning the dark corners of the factory. Every instinct told him to leave. Something wasn’t right, but Nyx had always been difficult to read—her smiles always layered with too much mischief, too many lies. And yet, she had fought beside him. She had bled for the rebellion, hadn’t she?

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"You said you had Lucius's location," Alastor said, keeping his voice even, though the knot in his chest tightened. "Where is he?"

Nyx smiled—too wide, too easy. "Right where you need him to be."

Alastor felt his pulse quicken. It was a trap.

He stepped back, but it was already too late.

The steel doors groaned shut behind him with a deafening clang, locking him inside. The sound of boots echoed from the shadows as figures emerged—masked assassins, their weapons gleaming in the faint light. Alastor counted at least six, their presence as quiet and deadly as the sharp edge of a knife. The Pyramid’s elite.

"Nyx," Alastor growled, his voice low and dangerous. "What are you doing?"

She tilted her head, a wicked glint in her eyes. "Making a move."

Alastor’s fists clenched at his sides. He had trusted her once—enough to let her close. And now, she was about to plunge that trust deep into his back.

"You’re working with Lucius," he said, his voice rough with betrayal. It wasn’t a question. The truth was right there in her eyes, cold and calculated.

Nyx’s smile sharpened. "I told you, Creed. I play for my own team." She stepped closer, the click of her boots echoing in the cavernous space. "Lucius made me an offer I couldn’t refuse."

Alastor’s heart pounded in his chest, the weight of her betrayal settling like a knife between his ribs. "You said you wanted freedom. That we’d tear down the Pyramid together."

Nyx chuckled softly, her emerald eyes glinting with amusement. "I did say that, didn’t I?" She gave a small shrug. "I lied."

Alastor forced himself to breathe, to think. He had survived too many trials, too many betrayals, to let this one break him. "What did Lucius promise you?" he asked, keeping his voice steady. "Power? A seat at the top?"

Nyx’s smile deepened, a dangerous spark flickering in her gaze. "Something like that. You know how it is. Everyone has a price. And Lucius? He knows mine."

She took another step forward, too close now, and Alastor caught the glint of steel as she pulled a knife from her coat—a slender, curved blade that gleamed in the low light.

His heart sank.

"It’s nothing personal, Alastor," Nyx whispered, her voice soft and almost regretful. The blade shimmered as she raised it. "Just business."