~~~

Bodies of the fake Viols filled the corridors of the hotel. It’d have looked like a zombie apocalypse if the Cursed hadn’t been smart enough to use magic. Those who were still alive burned to ashes everything in their sight and even managed to paralyze the electrical network in most parts of the building. A pack of enforcers had cleared their way to the elevators and moved half a hundred floors up before the explosion shook the hotel, making the lights go out and the elevator stop. With a precise movement, as if being stuck in elevator tunnels was his daily routine, Dasnor knocked out an emergency hatch and helped the others get out. Together with Viktor they forced open the doors leading to the floor and got out. Niji, Damn and Sacred scrambled up after the guys.

The mages raced down the hall past hotel rooms to the emergency staircase. After reaching it, Dammit leaned over the railing to look down.

“A party with Viols and black and whites, just how we like it!” The healer watched through a hole between the flights of stairs how a couple of the Cursed were demolished by a stream of water and then captured into the ice cage. “Whoa, their newbie is kind of… cool!”

“Let them deal with it, we have a job to do,” Dasnor commanded and everybody rushed upstairs.

“Sheesh, it’s fifty floors or somethin’!”

As Dammit whined, the building shook again. Without a second thought, the enforcers scattered as someone cast lethal magical shots at them—and the squad was attacked by a small group of Violets.

It was suicidal to fight in such close quarters with a high risk to fall so many floors down, but M.A.G.E. didn’t have much choice. Viktor grabbed ahold of the first Cursed he could and smashed him into a wall. Dammit was so focused on defending himself that his powerful barrier pushed the enemy over the railing, sending him off into the pit. Dasnor and Niji defeated another two in melee, and everything was going fine until the last enemy destroyed a part of the staircase right above the enforcers.

Dasnor was just in time to choose a safe spot up ahead. With the help of his wings, he soared with Niji a few floors up.

“Dammit, Viktor, Jun? Do you copy?” he cried in the walkie-talkie after landing on the surface that survived the blast. The sounds of struggle were still thundering under the debris.

“Crap, Grumpy, it’s a total shit show down there, but nothin’ we can’t handle. Just go without us.”

“We can’t leave you there!” Niji screamed.

“Oh come on, Flare, have some trust in your buddies. These creeps are almost dead anyway, so don’t waste your time digging down here. We’ll join you as soon as we can.”

“There must be some service elevators! If we can find a layout, then—”

“Have you ever heard of fire regulations?” Dasnor barked. “Move on!”

She allowed the Amber to grab her wrist and fly her up the staircase that ended on the hundredth floor. The penthouse was even higher, so the mages used separate stairs to reach a long corridor that resembled an art gallery. In comparison to the rest of the premises, the atmosphere on this floor was still quiet and exquisite, like there was no disaster happening a few feet down there: extravagant furniture stood untouched and the museum-like interior was sparkling with cleanliness. The door to the only suite was ajar.

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“We’re there,” Dasnor reported in his device. “101st floor.”

“It’s getting hot, but the cops joined the party too!” Viktor replied. “Be quick! If black and whites get hold of this shitty box before you, we’re screwed.”

“I know.”

“Aoi and Shadow are on their way up,” Dammit added. “They wanna rub some sense into this weirdo’s face or somethin’.”

Dasnor and Niji entered the luxurious suite lit by soft sunset rays through panoramic windows. The dark-skinned Kailua Douhthi was seated on a huge sofa, guarded by two Children on each of his sides, and a muscular Asian man occupied a chair opposite the hostage. He looked more like a business partner than a magical terrorist, wearing a formal attire with rolled-up sleeves that opened up numerous amplifiers on both of his forearms. Niji saw a delicate black box with golden decoration on a side table nearby and her eyes sparkled up with excitement: there it was, the Transformation Box!

“Blessed twilight to you, Dasnor-kun,” the Asian pronounced in a calm, friendly voice. “And to you, young lady.”

“What the hell is this all about?”

The man stood up and moved closer to the mages, gazing attentively.

“You look so much like her. Same eyes, same hair. Same profile of pride.”

“And you’ve definitely changed… Satoru,” Dasnor placed his hand closer to the holster.

“Magic and technology combined… they work wonders. I couldn’t let myself be discovered too early. And I am so glad you were the first to answer my invitation.”

“You could have sent a card. Taking a hostage is a bit too much.”

“Ah, Douhthi-san? Please excuse me, it’s just a measure to ensure my safety before I will get the answers. It was all so sudden, I had to improvise. I’m fine with releasing him as long as he doesn’t interfere with our conversation… if you know what I mean.”

Dasnor nodded to the foreign guest to accept Satoru’s demands, and the arcane shackles dissipated from the captive.

“I expected your father to come instead,” the criminal stated. “Still, judging by how things are unfolding, you are the one I need.”

While the Cursed were walking Douhthi out of the suit, Dasnor said, “You’re being too cryptic. What do you want?”

“All I want is to bring her back.”

“Who?”

“You know.”

“That’s... impossible.”

“Quite the contrary.”

Satoru got up from his chair a few feets away from the enforcers. Niji wondered why Dasnor was hesitating to capture the perpetrator who was standing before them unarmed and with no support from his followers. She was told Satoru was a Celestial, so he wouldn’t be able to win this fight, and they weren’t close friends either. Was Dasnor expecting a trap, then? Was it something in Satoru’s words that confounded him… or even thrilled him? His face was nothing but a stone, yet still there was a glimpse of slight change that gave away some kind of inner struggle.

The older man continued: “I have spent a decade musing it over, then finally realized what happened and how to make things right. What’s left is that very relic. I just didn’t know its exact location... but now it’s obvious that you still have it.”

“You’re wrong. It was destroyed years ago.”

“Oh, please drop the act, will you?”

“My Goddess, all this whole Children shit just for that? To fool us and PRISM alike? You even ordered your creeps to assault the mansion! Now it makes sense how they bypassed defensive spells, as you were the one who’d created them in the first place.” Dasnor’s fury was slowly slipping away from his control. “What the hell were you even thinking?”

“There was no chance of reaching my goal peacefully. I’m lucky that you were entrusted with the relic. Give it to me, so we can save her.”

“I repeat: it was destroyed. You did it all for nothing. Hand yourself to the cops and admit you’ve gone crazy—it might even reduce the prison sentence for you.”