Seldomly are there ever moments of true tranquility in human life. At the very least, some can find solace in sleep. It's of the few times when one's troubles can disappear. Not vanish completely, but take a hiatus and allow the mind to recover, rebuilding the busted brick blocks that compose the mind's defenses.

His mental fortitude was like a science fair volcano. The flow of saline lava settled slightly when he slept, but life always seemed to pour excessive amounts of baking soda into the mix and reactivate that imminent cataclysm.

Twelve BOOMING, consecutive thumps bashed the door to the room he slept in. Not enough to wake him, but sure as hell, adequate stimuli to send adrenaline pulses through Figgy's bloodstream. The boy's first reaction was to 'yelp' aloud, then he ran over and shook Vin awake. Physical touch was always a better inspiration to wake someone.

The room looked different to Vin after a paltry four hours of sleep. It was bleary. He unfurled his heavy eyes enough to note Figgy standing along his bedside in shorts and a plain white Tee, fronting the door with a weaponized lamp.

Placate, the calm, ignorant beating of Vin's heart was opposite of Figgy's. The boy had a look of fright that he'd rarely observed in humans. It was enough to evoke his survival instincts, so Vin pulled Miyo to his abdomen and stood to investigate.

Several more THUNDEROUS bangs jostled the door, which riled Vin into yanking another lamp from the wall socket. It was the middle of the night, the curtains were closed, and the lights were being plucked one by one. Miyo struggled to break free of Vin's safeguard, of course, to protect him, but their tiny body was trapped.

It was peculiar that the knight was trying to save their sword instead of turning it against the possible threat. Regardless, as previously covered, that blade was more than just a weapon to the warrior.

Bang, bang, each new drum was louder than the last. Even more threatening when accompanied by the dark and processed by the sleep-deprived ears of teenage boys.

An emergency signal was sent, and the tall head of the demonic giraffe burst from the ground. Unexpected, it evoked a lady-like squeal from Figgy, who pitched his lamp at the creature. An ineffective act because the summoned entity dismissed the deed entirely and attempted to squeeze more of its form into the room with little luck.

The beating soon stopped, which offered a moment to compose; however, storming footsteps returned minutes later. Someone halted outside the room, then there was a startling sound of the door being unlocked. All at once, it swung open, and they prepared to fend off whatever it was.

"You fucking lot, I swear!" Raged Mr. Dover. He earthquaked inside past the dark creature, flipped on the overhead lights, then threw a large duffle bag onto the floor.

Without reason, he rushed over to the window, slipped the blinds open an inch, and peered outside while articulating. "Pack your bags; we're going."

Upon realizing it was him, Vin exhaled, then dropped the lighting in his hand. Figgy exploded, pacing and waving his arms around in rage. "What the fuck is wrong with you man!?"

"I tried calling, but our phones were deactivated. Now, get your shit," commanded the man. Vin lazily rubbed the back of his neck before heeding the man's instructions; however, Figgy had more to say. "Go where?! It's the middle of the night, and you've broken into our room like a psychopath!"

"I paid for the hotel, front desk was happy to give me an extra key. So, again, lad, gather your bags."

"For what! Where are we going!?" Opposed Figgy. The sound of tires squealing to a halt galvanized Mr. Dover, who shut the blinds and yelled. "We're going to Disney World; grab your shit now!"

He was grave, desperate; something had him riled, and he wasn't sharing why. Vin unsummoned the long beast, but Miyo called upon the fluttery friend immediately after. The butterfly flew off without notice while Miyo helped Vin finish loading. After the hundredth time being told, Figgy also kicked it into gear and began to pack.

Once everything was collected, the graying man zipped to the door and popped his head out to confirm the coast was clear. He walked out first, then Figgy; however, Miyo yanked Vin's shirt, indicating he should stay. Convenient, because from where he stood, Vin saw Mr. Dover outside the door scowling down the hall. He didn't know what the man saw; just knew it was threatening enough for them to conjure and launch his heavy tire. It quickly flew out of Vin's view, then, with a distant 'RAH' and a pound, Figgy and Mr. Dover hastily ducked onto the floor. Three times as fast, the black wheel returned, blasting past the room door that Vin had remained inside, thanks to Miyo's instruction.

"Who is that!?" Exclaimed Figgy, standing and tucking behind the teacher. Mr. Dover pivoted toward Vin and roared for him to hurry up. His intensity was red; it was inherent to humans. He sensed danger, and his intuition told him to grab the boys he protected and run.

Vin had to ignore Miyo's warning and look for himself. He stepped from the room to peek down the left hall. However, the teacher immediately hauled him by his arm in the opposite direction. While being yanked away, Vin spotted a temperate individual in an all-black hooded cloak that dragged on the floor as they strolled behind them. The stranger pulled a phone to their ear, which revealed dark armor around their hand.

They spoke too low for anyone to hear their conversation and seemingly refused to chase them. Though seconds later, they punched the hallway's wall. Their fist penetrated it like butter, which wouldn't have been scary if they had just smashed a hole in the drywall. However, a high metal THUNG echoed behind the impact because a steel support beam had also been hit.

The cloaked person withdrew their hand from the crater in the hall, declined into a sprint position, then, with one thrust, they launched from their place and flew down the path at unrealistic speeds. They reached the three fleeing in seconds, then grabbed the back of Vin's shirt.

Mr. Dover felt the tug, so he rotated and instinctively slugged the stranger with his fist. A metallic clank and the sound of the man's broken hand shook any remaining drowsiness from Vin.

The cloaked person's head hadn't inched from being struck, but the professor winched back, grabbed his wrist, and retreated a step in ache.

Another tug effortlessly pulled Vin to the stranger's side, like a child dragging her doll behind. Miyo flew into a frenzy; simultaneously, the elongated giraffe snapped its head from the ground. Too little too late because once the foe swatted Miyo out of existence, the spiked creature also vanished.

Figgy regarded Mr. Dover, hunched over while peering deathly daggers at the assailant. Without any consideration, Figgy ran up to the outsider and booted them in the knee; it was fruitless. They didn't budge. The only consequence of the attack was that he hurt his own foot.

Mr. Dover yelled at Figgy for his attempt and used his remaining hand to push the boy into the wall; then, he conquered another car tire and slammed it into the enemy. Like a bouncy ball, it reflected off the shady-dressed person's frame. It must have felt like an ant bite because they raised their hand and shoved the teacher several yards away.

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They weren't human. It wasn't fair. With one arm, they sent a man weighing over two hundred pounds flying down the hotel's hallway. And no matter how much Vin endeavored, he couldn't break free of the grasp that caged him.

Whoever it was that assailed them could have done soo much worse, yet, they only stalled. Soon after, more shady figures entered from the stairway at the edge of the hall, near where Mr. Dover was chucked.

Four of them were unidentifiable, but the fifth, a man that looked to be in his unhealthy thirties, led them without a uniform, carrying a massive club made out of bones on his shoulder. He was dressed in boot-cut jeans, and his bomber jacket was unzipped so they could see the large tattoo of an angry rhino on his broad, bare chest. His hair was dark and buzzed, but he had a silky beard like Santa Claus.

"I didn't tell you to capture them," he said. He glanced at the situation, observing Figgy, who hugged the wall as if it could save him, then at Mr. Dover, who was just below, trying to stand.

"If you won't finish the job," continued the man. He snapped his finger at one of the cloaked figures behind him, and they walked forward until they were shoulder-to-shoulder with the leader. This new individual hailed a magic staff from their robes; it was made entirely out of bone and topped with the central charm of a glowing human skull.

The rod radiated a dark, ominous grape light, aiming directly at Vin. With a subtle, tentative wave, the staff sparked and inflated.

"Com'on," rushed the bearded man, "don't act like you haven't done this before." It was just an impression Vin had while squirming around, but neither the person that caged him nor the one that took aim appeared entirely resolute to harm them. Nevertheless, they were there, and the time came when they had to overcome their morals and adhere to the command.

A glimmer from the staff started it, then, just as it prepared to discharge, a human hand reached up from the ground and grabbed the head of the rod. The weapon still unleashed a wave of black magic, only it exploded in a small area around the luminous skull without projecting.

No blood, no splattered flesh like in the movies, not even a scream. Mr. Dover's hand was disintegrated, charred at the wrist as if submerged in a bucket of magma. He blinked, peered at his lack of fingers, then calmly swore, "Jesus fucking christ..."

Shock overtook him, and he slumped onto the carpeted floor. The previously hushed figure bucked back at the scene they caused and shrilled. Later, a door in the hall opened, and a woman peeked outside with a cocked baseball bat. Not because of the recent events, but between the banging on the door and the hole punched in the wall, every resident on that level had to be dialing security.

Those events had been ongoing for far too long, and sirens were approaching. Though, this fact didn't discourage the invaders.

Enough time had passed that Miyo could resurrect. Just as frantic, they tackled the hand holding Vin but to no impact. A faint signal in Vin's head felt like the phoenix's unrelenting plea. An appeal that was finally answered by Onyx. Not in person or at all happy; they simply conceded in whatever language they utilized. Vin didn't know what DK did, but out of nowhere, metal plates detached from the hand of Vin's warden and evaporated into a black flame. Without that armor, Vin could break from their human grip.

It was already obvious non of their measures' had any effect on the attackers. Behind their special effects was absolute, unlocked, and unrestrained military-grade nanotechnology. Mr. Dover knew it from the moment he tossed his tire at the first individual that they'd somehow altered their nanosphere to remove the limiter that made them nonlethal.

No games, no artificial pain; their lives were dangling on a thin string. The solution? Naturally, to run.

The dark giraffe's head popped from the earth, snagged Mr. Dover's clothing, and pulled him from the unknown group. Miyo went nova, expelling a bomb of black fire that cloaked the hall in a screen of flames. Mythic or not, its actions were merely effects. Hot, but not enough to burn a man to death or even keep them idle long enough to escape.

Vin's party made it to the stairway on the opposite side of the miscreants, where they were greeted by the fluttering butterfly that had left earlier. Instead of leading them to the way-too-bright lobby, the winged creature took them to the third floor. Figgy threw his board down and skated ahead in search of another exit. But, there was only another set of stairs and an elevator. Either way, the villains would be waiting and patrolling every entry on the first floor.

The creature under Miyo's control had it figured it. First, the giraffe released Mr. Dover and faded into the other side of a glass plane in the hall. Its actions screamed 'follow me,' but Figgy scarily inferred, "we can't all jump from the third story of a building!"

No need. Because the giraffe reappeared outside and stretched its neck like a suspended bridge from the ground. An odd image, but the two boys opened the window and dragged their teacher down its neck and into the night.

<>

Law enforcement vehicles were parked outside, flashing their red and blue lights, a sign of security. Vin and Figgy naturally trekked toward the officers, but Mr. Dover, newly conscious and surprisingly rational despite missing a hand, reasoned against it.

Officers had their guns, but what were bullets to military tech with the firepower of a live grenade. The man feebly stood on his own. Not for long, he grew wobbly and inevitably collapsed against the side of the building. He gestured to Figgy, who had his backpack strapped tightly to his back, then dug into the boy's pouch. School books, spare screws and wheels for a skateboard, few snacks, but nothing satisfied the man who seemed drunk on misery.

"No cigarettes? Com'on mate," mumbled Mr. Dover. He released the pack, then used his foot to weakly scooch it away. The picture of the erratic man sent Vin a brief, unreasonable thought, and he considered returning to find the teacher's bag. Just an intrusive thought; there was no chance anyone would enter harm's way for someone's nicotine fix.

Figgy was unstill. His head and eyes shifted across the site, and he rapidly contorted his hand like a stress ball. The boy would pace irregularly, turning from a concerned stride into a panicked bounce.

Vin was just as misplaced, unguided, and unsure about how to proceed. He wished Mr. Dover would just tell them what to do instead of acting comically.

"HA," the man said, raising his nubby arm. "Daughter used to tell me I'd make a great captain hook."

"Ridiculous..." Whispered Vin. There was no lack of darkness, and the temperature had dropped enough to render their few layers nearly useless. Life inside his coma wasn't perfect, but it was better than that. He thought about his happy home and how things were before, how much he missed it. If given a choice to return, then maybe-

"Fuck..." Vin muttered. He inhaled, slapped his palm over his eyes, then breathed. "I'm a hypocrite."

He remembered what he'd once said. "If you're blinded by the past, you won't see the new journey ahead of you." So he'd told, but the only thing he'd done lately was reminisce about his good times.

"Act. Do something to fix this," he thought. He had the willpower, but he was just a naïve teenager. That motivation felt haggard by the fact that he had no experience with wounds or invading assassins. He needed help.

Vin inspected his phone and noticed his service had been cut. None of the apps opened because he was no longer a student of the university that provided the device. That meant he couldn't make any calls. So, what then? He felt guilty but desperate enough to drop by Mr. Dover's side, rewind his hand, and slap some sense into the man. Once didn't do it, so he hit them again until the teacher blurted, "the hell are you doing!?"

Another slap for good measure, then Vin beseeched the man's wisdom. Mr. Dover looked at both of the boys in bafflement. His eyes were wide open, and his mouth was dropped in aggression. "Stop pacing, boy; you're freaking me out. And you, lazy twit, get out of my face."

Mr. Dover mushed Vin's head away, then kicked Figgy's backpack further away. He used the wall to stand, groggily seeking balance. "Where's the truck," he questioned.

Figgy appeared mid-bark, but Mr. Dover nipped his complaint in the bud prematurely and assured him. "I have 12 goddamn trophies. Don't lecture me about driving with one hand."

Most officers had entered the building to inspect the dubious commotion reported on the fifth floor, so the group could tiptoe to their vehicle. The wounded man naturally reached for the keys in his pocket with his dominant hand but recalled it was away... So, Vin moved to help him.

Mr. Dover was still self-reliant, so he kneed Vin away before awkwardly stretching his left arm to his right pocket. He withdrew the key himself, started the car, and they peeled off into the town before anyone could discern them.