Chapter 41

La-La’s Point of View

"Is this all about me leaving without any notice?" I began hesitantly, my voice barely a whisper. Guilt swelled in my chest, but I forced myself to look at him. "I'm really sorry about that. I know it must have been difficult for you to find another worker... especially given my condition." I paused. "Maybe I could make up for it somehow?" I added weakly, hoping to ease the tension.

He didn’t respond right away. His gaze, usually so calm and collected, was sharper now, cutting through my defenses.

“You know how much I worry about you, Ms. Lanaya?” he asked, his voice low but filled with concern.

I was shock.

His words took me by surprise. He’s worried? I wasn’t sure how to respond.

“I... I appreciate your concern," I managed, swallowing hard, trying to keep my composure. "But I’m fine, really.” My voice wavered, betraying the lie I desperately wanted to believe.

He wasn’t convinced.

“Are you sure about that?" His eyes narrowed, watching me closely, as if searching for the truth I wasn’t willing to admit. His tone softened. "Lanaya... you’re not the type to disappear without a reason. Something happened, didn’t it? You left with those injuries of yours"

I hesitated, the question stirring something inside me. Was he really that concerned about why I left?

“Does it not bother you?” I asked, my voice more vulnerable than I intended. “That I left without an explanation? Aren’t you curious why?” The words slipped out before I could stop them.

Zayne’s expression shifted—less professional, more personal. He set his cup down, the clink of porcelain against wood louder than it should’ve been.

“Of course, it bothers me,” he admitted, his voice quieter now, catching me off guard. “You think I haven’t thought about it every day since you disappeared? I didn’t want to push you, but... I need to know. Did I do something wrong?”

His question hit harder than I expected. My chest tightened as the weight of the truth pressed down on me. I wasn’t ready to confront it, not now. My breath caught in my throat, and the words I had ready to deflect his concern scattered, leaving me tongue-tied.

Before I could respond, the room grew colder. It wasn’t just the silence—it was the presence that slipped in like a shadow, unnoticed at first but impossible to ignore once it was here.

Axel.

Sh**, did I really spend that much time here? The last thing I needed was these two starting another round of arguments.

Axel stood framed in the doorway, his tall figure bathed in the light from the hallway, his aura darker than the black coat he always wore. He didn’t say anything at first, just watched us with those sharp, unreadable eyes, his gaze bouncing between me and Zayne like he was assessing a threat.

Yep, he’s definitely annoyed.

“Am I interrupting something?” Axel finally asked, his deep voice smooth but with an edge of mockery, as if he knew exactly what was going on. His eyes narrowed slightly as they locked onto me, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

Zayne straightened up, immediately trying to regain his composure, but the tension between them was as thick as ever. They always did this, danced around each other like they were waiting for the right moment to strike.

“Yes,” Zayne answered sharply, without a moment's hesitation.

Here we go again.

Axel’s smirk grew, his gaze flicking briefly to Zayne. "Really? Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re the one interrupting." His voice was casual, but I knew him well enough to catch the warning laced in his words.

Before I could even roll my eyes at their ongoing silent war, Axel strode forward and grabbed my wrist, his grip firm but not painful, clearly intending to pull me away from this heated scene.

“We’re leaving,” Axel said coolly, tugging me.

Before I could react, Zayne’s hand shot out, grabbing Axel’s wrist. "You’re hurting her," Zayne said through gritted teeth.

Axel’s eyes flickered to Zayne’s hand, and without missing a beat, he yanked his arm free, forcing Zayne to release his hold on me as well. The tension between them escalated instantly.

“This doesn’t concern you,” Axel snapped, his voice low and dangerous. “La-La is no longer your employee, and you two are nothing more than that.”

Zayne went silent for a moment, his jaw tightening as he processed Axel’s words. There was a pause, and I could almost see the battle raging in his mind.

Well, Axel’s not wrong, but…

“Nothing more than that?” Zayne’s voice broke the silence, sharp and defiant. “I think you’re mistaken.”

Axel narrowed his eyes. “What are you implying?”

Before Zayne could answer, I stepped in, sensing things were about to spiral. “What are you talking about?” I asked Zayne, cutting through the rising tension. His eyes darted toward me, his expression flickering between surprise and frustration. What’s with the silence? He looked like I’d caught him off guard, and for a second, he couldn’t find the words.

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I threw my hands up, letting out an exaggerated sigh. "Seriously? You two are going to do this now? In front of the coffee?" I motioned to the cup of coffee I’d bought earlier, still sitting untouched on the table. "Can’t we argue somewhere less caffeine-filled? I just wanted to sit down, maybe enjoy some peace, but no, you both had to make it a soap opera."

Axel blinked at me, his usual composure slipping for a second. "You’re not seriously—"

"Oh, I am," I interrupted, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "I am seriously tired of you two going at it like I’m some sort of trophy to be won. Newsflash, I’m not." I marched over to the table, grabbed the coffee I’d bought, and took a long, exaggerated sip.

Both of them just stared at me, frozen mid-argument.

I wiped my mouth dramatically and gestured between them. "You guys keep arguing if you want, but I’m done. I’m taking my coffee and leaving. Let me know when you’ve decided to act like adults."

Before either of them could say a word, I walked toward the table where apparently yuna is, coffee in hand, leaving them behind in their stunned silence. Honestly, the look on their faces was priceless.

Maybe I should start charging them for entertainment.

Third Point of View

The alley was drenched in rain, each drop splattering against the ground like the heartbeat of the city, heavy with foreboding. Shadows clung to the walls, wrapping around the figures of the special forces, their hoods drawn tight against the downpour.

“Hands up!!” they shouted, their voices echoing off the slick pavement, reverberating with authority.

Dorian stood at the center of the chaos, his expression a mask of calm. A smirk danced across his lips, the flicker of mischief in his eyes contrasting sharply with the grim atmosphere. He raised his hands, but it was a gesture that spoke more of defiance than surrender.

“You are charged with everything and taking the souls of all mythical creatures, totaling sixteen counts. You are to be… banished!” declared one of the special forces, stepping forward, a glowing red box in hand—the Gellion Box, a powerful artifact meant to eliminate wild ones, but only once a century.

As the soldier approached, the rain dripped from the brim of his hood, creating a steady rhythm that punctuated the tense standoff. With each step, the air around them thickened, charged with impending doom.

Julo, the leader of the squad, focused on the box, intent on activating its power. He could feel the weight of the moment, the lives at stake—both his comrades and Dorian’s victims. He held his breath, channeling energy into the artifact, the red light flickering ominously.

But before he could unleash the box's deadly magic, Dorian moved.

Like a flash of lightning slicing through the night, he lunged.

In one fluid motion, he unleashed a wave of darkness that enveloped the nine special forces operatives. They barely had time to react before they were consumed, their screams swallowed by the void. As the light from the Gellion Box flickered out, all that remained were the swirling remnants of blue dust, swirling and shimmering in the dim light, a haunting reminder of their lost souls.

Julo staggered back, shock plastered across his face as Dorian appeared before him, a dark silhouette against the glowing residue of his fallen comrades.

The world slowed as adrenaline surged through Julo’s veins. He felt the grip of fear but also a spark of determination. With a swift movement, he drew his gun with his right hand, aiming it squarely at Dorian’s heart.

“Stay back!” Julo commanded, his voice steady despite the chaos. He could feel his heart pounding against his chest, each beat a reminder of the danger they were in. “You’re not getting away with this!”

Dorian chuckled, the sound low and menacing, echoing through the alley. “Oh, but I already have, haven’t I?” His voice dripped with mockery, confidence radiating from him like a dark aura.

Julo’s finger trembled on the trigger, sweat mingling with the relentless rain as he calculated his next move. Each heartbeat felt like thunder, echoing in the silence that had descended between them. He couldn’t afford to hesitate; he had to act before Dorian could unleash more destruction. The air crackled with tension, a storm brewing between them that was more than just the rain.

“You think you can scare me with your little toy?” Dorian taunted, his voice smooth and dripping with contempt as he stepped closer, shadows curling around him like sinister tendrils reaching for prey.

“I’ll do what I have to,” Julo shot back, his resolve hardening even as doubt clawed at the edges of his mind. He was acutely aware that Dorian was not just any foe; he was a force of nature, a wild one whose powers dwarfed those of mere mortals. Julo had seen the aftermath of his wrath—the chaos and despair he left in his wake, the blue dust swirling around him now a stark reminder of the lives lost.

With a sudden, decisive motion, Julo squeezed the trigger, the gun’s report ringing out into the night—a challenge echoing into the void. But before the sound could fade, Dorian moved like a shadow, an impossible blur that invaded the space between them.

“What is your goal?!” Julo demanded, his voice strained with determination, desperation creeping into his tone.

Dorian smirked, the expression chilling and mocking. “To become a god.”

In the blink of an eye, he reached out, his hand closing around Julo's neck with an iron grip, the air rushing from Julo’s lungs. It was as if the world had fallen away, and he felt himself being drawn into the thin air around them, slowly vanishing like mist under the sun.

“No!” Julo gasped, panic flooding his senses as he clawed at Dorian’s hand, but it was futile. The darkness closed in around him, swallowing his form.

Dorian leaned in, his voice a sinister whisper that sent chills racing down Julo’s spine. “And to become a god, I need the heart of the mythical who became human.” His eyes glinted with a malevolent hunger, a predatory gleam that promised torment. “The dear La-La... I will find you soon. You will once again fall into my hands.”

His laughter echoed through the alley, low and bone-chilling, resonating with an otherworldly echo that seemed to pierce through the rain and darkness. Each note was filled with malice, a harbinger of the chaos yet to come.

Julo felt the world slip away he banished, the last remnants of his consciousness consumed by Dorian’s dark promise, the laughter reverberating like a death knell in his ears.

La-la Point of View

“Ouch!” I yelped, pulling my hand back as a sudden sting shot through my skin. It felt like I’d brushed against something hot, but there was nothing around.

“Are you okay, Senior?” Yuna asked, stepping closer with a worried look.

“Y-yeah...” I replied, trying to shake off the weird feeling. How could I get burned when there was nothing hot here? I glanced around, feeling a bit confused.

Yuna frowned. “You don’t look so good.”

“I think it’s just... a weird sensation or something,” I said, hoping to sound more relaxed. But inside, I felt a little flutter of anxiety.

“Oh, by the way, where is Mr. Axel? He said he would just grab you,” Yuna asked, raising an eyebrow. Grabbed? Am I some kind of item?

“He’s arguing with someone,” I said.

Yuna looked shocked. “Arguing who?”

“Zayne,” I answered casually.

“Zayne? As in Mr. Zayne?” she asked, her eyes wide.

“Yeah,” I confirmed.

“Did you two talk?” she asked, sounding like it was a big deal or something.

“Yeah, he asked me about why I left with just a letter, so we talked.”

“So what happened?” she pressed, her concern evident.

“The conversation didn’t finish because those two are busy arguing right now like lovebirds,” I said, rolling my eyes playfully. “Drink your coffee, and we’ll leave later. Let’s just focus on your training for now.”

“O-okay,” she replied, finally cracking a smile.

I gave her a reassuring smile back, hoping to lift the mood.