The entire chamber trembled again as another explosion thundered from outside. Dust rained from the ceiling. Somewhere beyond these walls, something powerful had been unleashed.

“What was that?” Amethyst’s voice cut through the tension.

Marik’s expression darkened. “Trouble.”

Before any of us could press for details, a sudden burst of golden light flared in the chamber, swirling like a miniature storm of fireflies. The glow condensed into a single point before erupting outward in shimmering sparks, leaving behind a tall, lean elf clad in armor etched with glowing runes.

“Marik! They’re here.” His face was tense, his breath hurried. He hesitated, then added, “Marduk is here.”

The weight of the name settled heavily in the room. I felt a shift in the air—a cold, almost suffocating energy pressing down on us.

Viktor stiffened. “Who the hell is Marduk?”

Marik’s eyes flicked toward him, his voice as smooth and clipped as ever. “An enemy.”

Not exactly helpful, Marik. I thought.

Of course. That much was obvious. But before any of us could press for details, Marik turned to Kaldi and Dero, his tone shifting into one of command. “Take them to Andora. Now.”

Kaldi’s ears perked. “You’re not coming with us?”

Dero’s ears twitched. “You mean leave you all here? But—”

“There is no time for argument,” Marik interrupted, his voice calm but firm. “Ishthar, Iago, and I will take things from here.”

Zeke took a step forward, looking between them. “Are you sure you’ll be all right? I mean, I get that you guys are powerful and all, but—”

Iago smiled. “Don’t worry, King of Fire. We’re not alone.”

A rumble shook the walls again, but this time, it wasn’t from an explosion—it was the sound of something massive moving outside. Shadows passed beyond the entrance.

That was when I noticed it—the faint vibration in the air, a distant hum like a storm on the horizon. There was power gathering beyond these walls, something ancient, something strong.

“The Vulcans and the Terrans have gathered,” Iago gestured toward the door of the chamber. “The fight does not rest on three shoulders alone.”

Vulcans? Terrans? I wanted to ask what the hell those were, but before I could, the doors exploded open, bringing in a gust of smoke and dust.

The first thing I saw were the wolves. Werewolves.

They were massive creatures, their fur dark as shadows, their eyes gleaming like molten gold. But what caught my attention were the golden collars—intricate, polished, almost regal—around their thick necks.

Standing at the head of the pack was an elf.

He was the mirror image of Marik. Same sharp features. Same regal stance.

The resemblance was uncanny—same sharp features, same high cheekbones, same impossibly graceful posture. The only difference was in the eyes. Marik’s were a deep, piercing blue. This elf’s eyes were darker, like the ocean at midnight, holding something colder, more distant.

While Marik radiated an air of wisdom and quiet power, this elf exuded something else entirely. Arrogance. Cruelty. Control. His deep blue eyes gleamed with amusement as he surveyed the chamber.

A slow, smug smile stretched across his lips. Then, in a smooth, almost amused tone, he said, “So . . . your saviors have arrived.” The way he said it—mocking, almost playful—made my skin crawl. He stepped forward, moving lazily—like he’d already won.

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Marik didn’t flinch. If anything, he looked vaguely unimpressed. “Marduk.”

Marduk’s grin widened. “Brother.”

Brother.

Of course. Because why wouldn’t the powerful High Mage of Mysteria have a long-lost twin who turned to the enemy’s side?

I stiffened. I wasn’t the only one. A few of us exchanged glances, realization hitting all at once. The enemy—our enemy—was Marik’s twin.

Marduk tilted his head slightly, his eyes flicking toward us with barely concealed disdain. “Are these the ones you’ve placed your faith in?” He clicked his tongue. “I expected more, Marik. They look . . . disappointing.”

Pierre straightened. “Excuse me?”

Marduk chuckled, ignoring him. “Is this truly the prophecy you cling to so desperately? Ten lost children from a world without magic? Tell me, brother—do you actually believe these fragile little things will save Mysteria?”

Marik remained unfazed. “Belief is not required, Marduk. The future will unfold as it must.”

Marduk sighed, shaking his head. “Still reciting your little wisdoms, I see. Tell me, does it comfort you? Pretending the universe has some grand design?” He took another step forward. “You know what I believe, brother? Power wins. It always has. It always will. And the Vharethi offer power beyond anything you or these children can comprehend.”

His gaze swept over us again, filled with cold amusement. “Yet you would place your trust in weaklings instead.”

“Call us weak again,” Pierre muttered under his breath. “See what happens.”

Zeke shot him a look. “Dude, not the fucking time.”

Marik ignored Marduk’s taunts, his expression calm as ever. “Your faith is misplaced. The Vharethi do not give power freely. They take. And they will take everything from you when you are no longer useful.”

Marduk chuckled. “And you think your so-called ‘Guardians’ are any different?” His gaze flickered toward Ishthar and Iago. “Or do you still tell yourselves you are fighting for some righteous cause?”

Marik sighed, almost as if this was nothing more than an inconvenience. Then, without breaking eye contact with his twin, he gave a subtle nod toward Iago.

Iago shook his head, more annoyed than anything. “You talk too much, Marduk.”

And before Marduk could respond, he whisked his hand.

The world blurred.

One moment, we were in the chamber, caught between Marik’s stand-off with his twin and a pack of werewolves. The next, the world lurched, and suddenly—

We were somewhere else.

The air was damp and cool. The faint glow of torches lined the rocky walls. A tunnel stretched before us, winding into the unknown.

Kaldi and Dero stood beside us, their expressions tense. The walls of the underground passage stretched in both directions, dimly illuminated by faint light of the torches.

A long silence followed.

“What the hell just happened?” Andrew muttered.

Dero’s ears twitched. “Iago sent us here. It is an escape tunnel.”

Pierre exhaled sharply, his jaw tight. “Cowards run. We should go back.”

Hyacinth shot him a sharp look. “Go back? Are you insane?”

“They’re fighting because of us,” Pierre countered. “Because we are supposedly ‘important.’ So why are we running while they risk their lives?”

A murmur of agreement rippled through some of the group.

Kaldi growled, his golden eyes narrowing. “You are not running. You are following the path set before you.”

“But shouldn’t we fight?” Gabrielle asked, frustration clear in her voice. “We’re supposed to be the next ‘Guardians,’ aren’t we? What kind of Guardians abandon their allies?”

Andrew exhaled through his nose. “They chose to stay.”

Amethyst frowned. “But—”

“If they had wanted us to fight, they would have let us.” Andrew’s voice was firm, his gaze steady. “And if they thought we were ready, the previous Guardians wouldn’t have given us the choice to stay or go.”

That shut everyone up.

Because he was right.

If we were truly meant to fight now—if we were truly capable—we wouldn’t be here.

I crossed my arms. “Be honest. How many of you have ever been in a magical battle?”

Silence.

No one spoke.

That was all the answer I needed.

Before anyone could say more, a deep, guttural roar echoed through the tunnel.

The air shifted. A low, rumbling vibration pulsed beneath my feet.

And then—

Pierre wasn’t Pierre anymore.

A massive tiger stood in his place.

Golden fur. Black stripes. Piercing amber eyes.

I blinked. Stared. Tried to make sense of what the hell just happened.

Then, without thinking, I blurted out—

“What the fuck???”