“It's been a while, hasn't it, Markus? The last time we crossed paths was in Egypt. I gave you quite a nasty scar then, didn't I?” Nikolai's voice dripped with a sinister amusement, his smile both charming and cold, eyes gleaming with calculated malice.
Markus's jaw tightened, his stance unyielding as he faced his old adversary. “Sure, that's true,” he retorted, his voice laced with bitter sarcasm. “But I gave you one as well, you bastard.” The air between them crackled with unspoken animosity, memories of past battles hanging heavy.
Meanwhile, Wallace stood slightly apart, his demeanor tense yet composed. With deliberate precision, he reached into the depths of his lab coat pocket, producing two meticulously crafted rings. The first was a delicate masterpiece, shaped into the whimsical form of a rabbit. Its ears perked up in perpetual curiosity, and nestled within its tiny paws was a small, clear crystal that caught the light, refracting it into a dazzling array of colors. The second ring was a stark contrast—bold and dynamic, shaped like a gallant horse in mid-gallop. Its powerful form was frozen in motion, and within its open mouth rested a vibrant blue crystal, reminiscent of a sapphire glistening under the sun.
“I’ll go rescue Iris,” Wallace declared, his voice steady despite the gravity of the moment. Channeling his aura into the horse ring, his body surged with newfound speed. In an instant, he blurred past Nikolai and Scarlet, his footsteps echoing against the stone as he sprinted toward the house engulfed in flames.
“Deal with him,” Nikolai commanded, his gaze flickering to Scarlet with unwavering authority. “I’ll take Markus.”
But Markus was quicker, his eyes narrowing as he teleported in front of Scarlet. In a fluid, practiced motion, he delivered a swift kick to her jaw, sending her sprawling back with a grunt. The impact was precise, showcasing his lethal efficiency.
Scarlet regained her footing, wiping a trickle of blood from her lip. “So care to enlighten me on why the famed Reaper and Saint are here,” Nikolai taunted, his voice smooth as silk. “People of your caliber only go on subjugation missions or when an Authority user's ability is out of control.”
Markus smirked, his eyes never leaving Nikolai's. “I could ask the same thing, old friend. Ranked second and fourth on A.E.G.I.S.’s priority kill list yet here you two are. Shall we exchange information?” His tone was mocking, yet there was a sharp edge of menace beneath the playful facade.
Nikolai’s eyes darkened, a storm of irritation flickering across his chiseled features. “There’s no time for your games, Markus. I assume the Bookkeeper mentioned this girl to you—though his details should have been classified. So be it.”
Markus’s lips curved into a wry smile as he leaned forward, his tone cool and measured. “Actually, he told us practically nothing. But I’m slowly coming to realize she’s worth far more than merely an Authority-type asset.”
A low chuckle escaped Nikolai, edged with disbelief. “W-wait, seriously? Your luck is impeccable—if not at gambling, then in every other field. You happened to stumble upon this high-value target without even knowing her true capabilities. Truly, you never cease to amuse me.”
Markus’s eyes glinted with confident defiance as he folded his arms. “So, will you enlighten me on her value, my dear old friend? It would be a shame to squander such an opportunity. After all, despite your impressive skills, your so-called metal manipulation means little against me. And Scarlet’s flames? They’re equally inadequate.”
A wild, crazed smile danced on Nikolai’s lips. “You’re right—metal manipulation alone could never win against you.” His voice then dropped to a mocking incantation: “Under the Authority of Error, Error of Location!” In an instant, the space around him began to glitch and ripple, as if reality itself was bending to his will.
Before Markus could react, Nikolai vanished and reappeared behind him in a flash—delivering a brutal punch that sent shockwaves through Markus’s defenses. Instinctively, Markus summoned a shimmering barrier, just barely deflecting the blow.
“Authority? Since when do you possess an Authority-type ability?” Markus demanded, shock and disbelief mingling in his tone.
Nikolai’s gaze softened momentarily, a hint of nostalgic longing in his eyes as he whispered, “I’ll give you one last chance, as someone I once called my best friend. Surrender—both you and Wallace—and join us. You know A.E.G.I.S. cannot be trusted.”
Markus’s eyes narrowed, hardened by resolve. “I can’t do that. Yes, A.E.G.I.S. has its dark secrets, but I can’t bring myself to trust you either. I’m not sure what you’re planning, but I know it isn’t for the greater good.”
A tense silence hung in the air before Nikolai’s expression turned cold and unyielding. “Enough talk. If you won’t join us, then I’ll eliminate our biggest threat—here and now.” With a snap of his fingers, a long, obsidian katana materialized from a ring on his finger, its edge gleaming ominously in the dim light.
The air vibrated with imminent danger as the two old adversaries locked eyes, the weight of their shared past and conflicting futures hanging heavily between them.
Nikolai’s katana, an elegant and lethal blade, gleamed ominously in the dim light. Its formidable length stretched over three feet, the deep, lustrous black surface absorbing light like a void in space. Intricate crimson waves and whorls danced along its edge, adding to its ominous presence. A faint, eerie scream seemed to echo from the depths of the blade, hinting at its malevolent power.
“Fine then, just answer me this question. Why did you leave A.E.G.I.S.? This goes for both of you. Scarlet, why did you betray us?” Markus demanded, his voice heavy with sorrow and accusation.
Scarlet, unable to meet Markus’s gaze, remained silent, her conflicted emotions visible.
“You know why we left. It had to be done after what happened, I couldn’t stay, not after she died. Now let's end this. Error of location,” Nikolai interjected abruptly, teleporting with astonishing speed in front of Markus and swinging his katana directly at Markus’s head.
Markus reacted in an instant, instinct and adrenaline guiding him as he drew his knife from his pocket. The sharp ring of clashing metal shattered the tense silence, and the sheer force of Nikolai’s blow sent Markus staggering backward, his arm burning with the sting of the impact.
“Using your signature artifact against me while I’m stuck with this shoddy knife is quite unfair,” Markus retorted, gritting his teeth against the pain radiating from his arm.
“You’re right. Allowing you to keep that knife was a mistake. Now, fuse—Authority of Error and Metal Manipulation,” Nikolai declared calmly, his arm extending as reality once again began to warp around him.
In an instant, Markus watched in disbelief as his knife’s blade began to corrode and rust away until only the handle remained in his grip.
Meanwhile, inside the engulfed house, flames roared hungrily through each room as if driven by an unseen force. Iris cowered in the dining room, tears streaming down her cheeks as the heat intensified and all escape routes seemed blocked.
“Open me, you have to open me,” a desperate voice echoed from the book in Iris’s trembling hands. Unlike the earlier, gentle murmur of the butterfly’s call, this voice rang out with raw urgency, the tone unmistakably that of a young woman pleading in distress.
“Who—who are you?” Iris cried, her voice trembling as much as her hands.
“It doesn’t matter who I am,” the voice urged softly yet insistently. “If you die here—if you let these flames consume you—the world is doomed. Iris, please, trust me. You must live, no matter what it takes. You have to live.”
Driven by desperation, Iris obeyed, opening the book with trembling hands. A radiant golden light burst forth, enveloping her in a protective glow. Miraculously, the fire seemed to falter and retreat, repelled by the luminous aura emanating from the pages. The book turned its pages on its own accord, stopping at an illustration of a butterfly surrounded by flames. Iris traced the image with her fingers, feeling a surge of unknown power coursing through her.
The voice from within the book continued to speak, its words soft and muffled yet stirring something deep within Iris’s soul. As she slowly turned the page, a wondrous sight unfolded before her eyes—a swarm of iridescent butterflies emerged, swirling from the printed words to form a shimmering, protective barrier around her.
“Iris, there’s no need to be afraid,” the voice cooed gently, its tone filled with tender assurance. “Someone is coming to help you. Trust him—among all souls in this world, he is one of the kindest.”
Tears welled in Iris’s eyes as she clutched the book tighter. “W-what about mom and dad? What happened to them?” she cried out, her voice trembling with grief and confusion.
The voice sighed softly, filled with sorrow. “I’m sorry, Iris. We can do nothing for them, but you must promise me, please, keep living. You have to, for their sake and for your own.”
Just then, from the luminous pages of the book, a silhouette began to form—a gentle outline of a young woman, shrouded in mystery yet imbued with a familiarity that stirred Iris’s heart. The figure moved closer, and before Iris could fully comprehend, the spectral woman wrapped her arms around her in a warm embrace. Overwhelmed by the bittersweet comfort of the moment, Iris began to cry softly, her tears mingling with the gentle glow of the magical butterflies.
If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
Outside, Wallace burst into the engulfed house, flames licking at every corner and casting dancing shadows against the smoke-filled walls. His voice, laced with desperation and fear, echoed through the inferno as he called out, “Iris!” Each second stretched painfully, the roaring blaze making it hard to gauge time.
As Wallace burst into the room, the ethereal silhouette melted away as if carried off by a gentle wind, leaving behind only a faint, bittersweet smile that lingered on Iris’s face.
“Iris, where are you? Please answer me!” Wallace bellowed, his voice thick with worry and determination.
From beneath the dining room table, hidden safely behind the shimmering barrier conjured by the mysterious book, Iris’s voice trembled out, “I'm here, w-who are you?”
Relief surged through Wallace, and he surged forward, his body battered by burns that he self-healed in a continuous, desperate struggle. Smoke clawed at his throat and filled his lungs, yet he pressed on, every labored step driven by the urgent need to reach Iris.
In the hazy, smoke-filled room, Wallace finally spotted her, a small figure huddled beneath the table, clutching the ancient, worn book as if it were a lifeline. The protective barrier surrounding her glowed softly, casting gentle light on her tear-streaked face. With each step, Wallace’s heart pounded faster.
“Good, I'm not too late,” Wallace murmured softly, his voice a soothing balm amid the chaos. “I'm here to save you. Just rest now—go to sleep. Everything will be fine when you wake up.” He extended his hand toward her, his eyes filled with gentle urgency.
“W-who are you, please te—” Iris began, but as the words faltered, an overwhelming weariness washed over her. In that moment, a pale, crystalline light began to glow from the rabbit-shaped ring on Wallace’s hand, its soft radiance weaving a spell of calm over the room.
Exhaustion and solace mingled within her, and Iris’s heavy eyelids betrayed her resolve as she slipped into a fragile sleep. With tender care, Wallace lifted her into his arms. As he cradled her, he noticed something unexpected— the flames that had once scorched his skin now seemed almost benign, as if this quiet moment had tamed their ferocity. Though he couldn’t explain it, a quiet hope stirred within him, reaffirming that somehow, against all odds, salvation was near.
Outside, the fierce battle between Markus and Nikolai raged on, each move a deadly dance of strategy and power. Scarlet and Lucia watched anxiously from the sidelines, witnessing the conflict unfold with grim determination. Nikolai, gradually gaining the upper hand, pressed his advantage against Markus, his movements swift and precise.
“Markus, we have to get out of here now!” Wallace's urgent voice cut through the chaos as he emerged from the burning house with Iris in his arms.
“Damn it, Wally, get out our way!” Scarlet shouted, launching fiery projectiles towards Wallace and Iris in a desperate attempt to halt their escape.
Markus reacted swiftly, teleporting to intercept the fireballs and erecting a barrier to shield them. In that split second, Nikolai seized the opportunity, teleporting behind Markus with lethal intent, his katana poised to strike. Markus barely managed to conjure another barrier in time to deflect the attack, the clash of energies reverberating through the air.
“This battle is taking too long. It's time I finished it. Lucia, prepare the gate. We’ll be gone very soon,” Nikolai declared, his voice cutting through the chaos of the battlefield with icy determination. His gaze remained fixed on Markus, who stood opposite him, wearied but resolute.
Lucia, visibly fatigued from her earlier use of the gate ability, nodded silently. She raised her arms, the air around her shimmering as she summoned a lime-green portal.
Nikolai lifted his katana to his neck, the blade glinting ominously in the dim light. Blood trickled slowly down its edge, its presence seemingly amplifying the eerie whispers emanating from its steel.
“Release your true form, grade 0 artifact, Fang of the Gluttonous Monarch,” Nikolai exclaimed, a burst of manic laughter escaping his lips.
The katana seemed to liquefy into shadowy tendrils, crawling along Nikolai’s arm until they covered half his body, merging with his dark hair. Simultaneously, his outstretched hand caused fractured gem fragments to tremble violently.
“Come back and reform, grade 0 artifact, Left Eye of the Gluttonous Monarch,” he commanded, the gem fragments fusing onto a ring adorning his finger.
The ring transformed its surface into a sleek metallic sheen that seemed to meld with Nikolai’s skin. Its edge, however, revealed a hidden danger, a fine blade that could easily slice through flesh, adorned with a deep purple gemstone pulsing with power. A cryptic rune etched upon it glowed faintly. Worn on his left hand, the ring exuded an aura of unsettling horror, amplifying the tension in the air.
Markus, observing Nikolai’s transformation, felt a chill of dread settle in his heart. “This fight is unwinnable,” he thought grimly. Nikolai, already a formidable adversary, now possessed not one but two grade 0 artifacts. The mere possession of one was enough to massacre an untold number of people A.E.G.I.S estimated, but two of them, especially from what seemed to be a matching set, spelled an utterly hopeless situation.
“Wallace, run,” Markus commanded abruptly, breaking the tense silence. His voice was firm, betraying no hesitation. “Get Iris to safety. I’ll hold them off for as long as I can. Even if it costs me my life, do not look back.”
“I can’t…” Wallace’s voice cracked, a single tear tracing its path down his cheek. “You’re all I have left. I refuse to lose you too.”
Markus’s gaze softened momentarily before hardening again with resolve. “We can’t win this,” he said quietly, almost as if to himself. “But with that artifact of yours, you and Iris stand a chance at escaping. Please, Wallace, survive.”
Before Wallace could react, an otherworldly silence fell as a pure white spear materialized out of the void. Its shaft, as pale as fresh-fallen snow and adorned with intricately carved white roses, sliced effortlessly through the protective barrier. The spear sailed unerringly toward Nikolai, striking his back with a sickening, echoing thud. It penetrated his flesh as if it were nothing more substantial than a wisp of mist, leaving a trail of crimson in its wake.
Nikolai's eyes widened in shock as the spear sank deep into his back, its malevolent energy coursing through him like icy tendrils of despair. A sharp gasp escaped his lips, blending pain and anger as he staggered forward.
Wallace's heart raced as he witnessed the unexpected assault, his mind racing to comprehend where this attack came from. The scene unfolded in surreal slow motion before him, each detail etching itself into his memory with vivid clarity.
Nikolai swiftly extracted the spear lodged in him, utilizing his Authority to heal himself. But before he could fully recover, seven more spears materialized from beyond the barrier, raining down on the members of Noir. Scarlet reacted with instinctive speed, conjuring a wall of searing flames to shield herself and her allies. Yet, one of the spears pierced through the fiery barrier, grievously injuring her as her arm fell to the ground.
Markus seized the moment, grabbing Wallace as he held Iris in his arms, in a desperate sprint for escape. As they dashed, another spear whizzed past Markus’s head, punching through the barrier and creating a temporary opening for their retreat.
Glancing back, Wallace caught sight of the figure responsible for the barrage of spears. The man wore a dark cloak adorned with white roses, a hauntingly crude mixture of beauty and madness. Despite the emotionless mask covering his face, a single emotion consumed everyone present, fear.
The hole torn open by the spears in the barrier refused to regenerate, allowing the cloaked figure to leap down from his rooftop vantage point and pass through unimpeded. Nikolai, quickly healing Scarlet’s wounds, turned to confront the newcomer, only to receive a fierce punch to the face that sent him reeling backward.
Scarlet, recovering from her injuries, prepared to unleash a torrent of flames at the cloaked figure. But when their eyes met, his gaze locked onto hers with a chilling intensity, freezing her in place with a fear she hadn’t felt in years.
“Hello there, Mr. Dostoevsky. I have a proposition for you. Surrender today, abandon your pursuit of the key, and I promise you will live to see another day,” the cloaked man spoke, his voice carrying a weight of authority that matched his commanding presence.
“Who are you? And how did you learn of our operation?” Nikolai demanded, his voice strained from the blow he had just received.“Who are you? And how did you learn of our operation?” Nikolai demanded, his voice strained from the blow he had just received.
“I won't answer the second question, but you may call me Nihil,” the cloaked man replied, his tone resonating with a sense of finality that brooked no argument.
Nikolai’s fist surged with writhing shadows, dark tendrils coiling around it until it swelled into a formidable, churning mass. With a ferocious swing, it collided with Nihil, whose form was obliterated on impact. In an instant, Nihil was reduced to a gruesome splatter on the ground—broken mask shards and a crimson smear staining the pavement.
A cold chuckle escaped Nikolai as he basked in his apparent victory, the thrill of dominance pulsing through his veins. Yet his laughter faltered abruptly. He blinked, and the blood and shards that had once marred the pavement seemed to vanish into thin air.
Before he could fully register the change, Nihil reappeared behind him. A mocking laughter, soft and sinister, echoed in the silence. Leaning close, Nihil whispered into Nikolai's ear, his voice laced with chilling malice, “It seems I survived your pitiful attack. I won’t give you a second chance—run before you die, Mr. Dostoevsky.”
Without a word, Nikolai gestured to Scarlet and Lucia, ordering them to evacuate as he led the way through the gate. The two women followed swiftly, casting wary glances back at the enigmatic figure who had effortlessly bested their leader.
“What a night this has been. The second key is likely in A.E.G.I.S’s custody by now, as well. I’ll pay them a visit in the morning,” Nihil mused to himself, his voice barely audible as he faded into the shadows, dissolving the barrier around the burning house.
Meanwhile, Markus and Wallace raced through the chaotic aftermath, their hearts pounding like war drums in the silence that followed the battle. Every muscle screamed in protest from the exertion as they pushed onward, only slowing when they finally saw the malevolent barrier dissolve into nothingness behind them.
“Contact headquarters—now! Tell them to dispatch a gate ability user for extraction,” Markus gasped, his voice raw and uneven from the prolonged chase.
Wallace’s eyes flickered with determination as he fumbled with his comm device. “On it. Extraction should be here any moment,” he replied, his words clipped with urgency as he initiated the call.
Within seconds, a vibrant, orange-hued gate shimmered into existence before them, its swirling portal a stark contrast to the dark chaos they had just escaped. From the portal stepped a woman clad in a sleek black suit and a striking red tie, her confident gesture inviting them inside.
Without a moment’s hesitation, Markus and Wallace plunged through the radiant gate. In an instant, they were transported to the secure confines of A.E.G.I.S’s Alpha Facility—a stark, well-lit stronghold that promised temporary safety and the next phase of their mission.
As the gate’s afterglow faded behind them, the two men exchanged weary glances, each silently acknowledging that their battle was far from over. Their next steps awaited in the secure facility.