“If one door closes and another door opens, chances are your house is haunted.” — Tanya Masse

Emerging high in the celestial realm, moisture coalesced with ethereal grace. Gradually, its bonds intensified, reaching a threshold where the burden became unbearable, and it succumbed to gravity's irresistible pull. Descending from the heavens, raindrops pelted the black sea, generating delicate ripples that playfully interfered with the incoming waves.

Despite its best efforts to withstand the relentless assault of the rain, the waves continued to crash against the towering wooden pylon that emerged defiantly from the seabed.

Atop the sturdy support, a tall and lanky man donned a long grey trench coat. The coat, coated with protective oil, diligently fulfilled its duty, shielding most of his body from the downpour, save for his auburn brown hair. The cascading water gradually saturated his strands, causing the once smooth hair to transform into frizzy tangles, particularly at the tips.

With a stroke of his neatly trimmed beard, his piercing blue eyes locked onto the figure standing atop a nearby post. The rain continued to pour down as a man with vibrant magenta hair, tightly pulled back into a resolute ponytail, stood on one foot. The tip of his other foot touched the top of the pylon.

Their gazes locked each other, an unspoken challenge reverberating between them. The anticipation swelled, as if the very elements held their breath, preparing for the imminent clash that seemed inevitable.

The man with magenta-colored hair stood amidst the tumultuous rain, his white shirt billowing open and hanging loosely around his waist. Each raindrop assaulted his vibrant tattoos and traced its path along the scars that marred his chest and right arm, creating a captivating mosaic of colors and stories. His scarred hands, weathered from battle's past, rested firmly on the hilt of a curved sword, snugly sheathed within a dark blue belt.

The tattooed man's voice rose above the cacophony of rain, he said, "You can't abandon the Four Corners Crew, Indigo."

Indigo, undeterred by the downpour, met his gaze, and his facial features stiffened.

"Respectfully, Brother Mizuiro, I made it clear last year that if this season starts with me sidelined, undermining our team, I'm walking away."

The sky grew ominously darker, and the rain transformed from gentle droplets into relentless shelling pellets.

"Our allegiance lies with the Code, which demands our unwavering obedience to the Azul Council," Mizuiro said.

Indigo, his determination unyielding, retorted with a touch of defiance, replied, "The council's desires revolve around seeking validation through popularity contests and groveling for corporate sponsorships."

He unbuttoned his trench coat and began to dig around in his pants pocket. Mizuiro slid his hand down his sword and pressed a switch near the guard. It unlocked with a click. The sword inched out revealing a sliver of polished steel from the base of the blade.

A brilliant flash of light tore through the darkened sky, casting an ethereal glow, swiftly followed by a resounding crack of thunder that reverberated through the air.

Mizuiro's eyes narrowed, his voice carrying a mix of disappointment and resolve.

"So, you have chosen the path of betrayal," he declared, pressing his sword outward slightly with his thumb, an unspoken threat in his gesture.

Indigo, undeterred, stood tall, his voice laced with determination.

"I remain loyal to Team Blue, but I have found a different house to fight under," he affirmed, his words resonating with more conviction.

In response, Mizuiro drew his sword, the blade glistening as it held its position, pointed down toward the turbulent waves. Its length stretched out, seemingly reaching for the very essence of the ocean.

Indigo swiftly retrieved a fist-sized metallic cylinder, its ends adorned with a knob and a cotter pin. With a confident push on the knob, the cylinder expanded into a gleaming metallic staff, poised he held the staff up.

“I will make you bleed,” Mizuiro said.

“You can try…” Indigo said.

With a swift motion, Mizuiro reached behind his back, retrieving an hourglass concealed from view. Indigo mirrored his actions, producing his hourglass from an unseen location. In a synchronized display, they simultaneously tossed their hourglasses into the air, and their devices merged.

As the two hourglasses merged, a remarkable transformation ensued. The combined hourglass expanded in size, radiating a vibrant, luminous blue glow that illuminated the surrounding area with an otherworldly brilliance.

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"Three minutes on the clock," he declared, his words accompanied by the steady descent of sand filling the top glass.

The countdown began in an instant. Numbers materialized within the hourglass, steadily ticking away the remaining time. The display flickered with intensity, each passing second accentuated by the diminishing digits: 4...3...2...1...FIGHT!

The sand cascaded from the summit to the base. Mizuiro sprinted over the water towards Indigo, his blade skimming the surface of the waves. Suddenly, another bolt of lightning crackled in proximity.

***

A droplet of water dripped from the discolored ceiling, landing inside a grimy paint bucket. Estelle reclined in her regal rattan chair, its material emitting creaks and groans as she shifted her weight. Sinking deeper into the plush white linen cushion, she caused the chair to emit another creak. With closed eyes, Estelle wore a half smile.

Another water droplet plummeted from the ceiling, producing a resounding plop as it landed in the bucket. Estelle briefly entertained the idea of kicking off her shoe to topple the bucket, or at the very least, give it a good swift kick.

"Do I really want to soak my feet?" she pondered, glancing at her toes peeking through the white thigh-high stockings.

With minimal effort, Estelle redirected her gaze to the rattan pattern adorning the back of the chair. Although certain sections were broken or snapped off, it was still hers. She reminisced about the time Tunnel Cat had stumbled upon it while diving into dumpsters, presenting it to her as a birthday gift. Apart from a few minor rattan pieces that were damaged, the chair remained functional.

Her thoughts drifted toward the upcoming meeting with the Azul Council, causing her half-smile to transform into a sneer. As she squirmed in the chair, the fibers rubbed against each other, producing another creak. A smile resurfaced on her face. Estelle ran her hand along the armrest, eliciting a squeaking sound once more. However, this time it failed to evoke the same sense of relaxation.

“Must be a past life thing,” she thought.

Another drop of water hit the bucket. She glared up at the ceiling.

“Point-37 milliseconds faster than the last one, the hole must be getting bigger.”

Outside the room, feet stepped from the stairs to the hallway. Estelle’s ears twitched.

“Four people,” Estelle thought as she turned her head to the side. “Correction…one person and something on four legs, with that gate, perhaps a dog?”

She sank back into her chair, her posture slumped. Her gaze lingered lazily on the door, devoid of its usual curiosity. The wind intensified, hurling itself against the window with relentless force and throwing rain against it. She watched the shadows that danced across her body, their ever-changing patterns covered and uncovered her eyes. Each footfall from whoever this visitor was reverberated through the worn floorboards, adding to the twisted feelings in her stomach that enveloped her mind.

The inevitable knock resounded, compelling the door to swing open. An individual, donning a brown shoe, extended their foot gracefully into the room. The footwear exuded an air of luxury, with supple leather and meticulous craftsmanship hinting at its extravagant origins.

“Come in,” Estelle said.

Indigo entered cautiously, glancing around the corner with apprehension. A black dog emerged, its long snout peeking out between his legs.

"Your door was unlocked," Indigo stated, his cheeks slightly flushed. "It just..."

"That's because the lock doesn't work," she interrupted.

Estelle sat up in her chair, her attention drawn. She inserted a finger between two strands of rattan on the armrest. Indigo inspected the area where the lock should have been, noticing that fragments of metal were gouged out. Meanwhile, the dog strolled in and curiously sniffed at the bucket.

“Triumph, mind your manners,” Indigo said.

“Saw-reee,” the dog and sat down in front of the bucket.

“Did the Azul Council dispatch you to make sure I would comply with their demands?” Estelle asked.

“Pardon?” asked Indigo.

“Are you not Indigo of the Four Corners Crew? The secret police and enforcers of the Azul Council?” Estelle asked. “Should I be insulted that they only sent one enforcer or are the other three loitering about?”

The dog watched a drop of water fall into the bucket with another plop.

"Wait, Mistress Estelle," Indigo began, raising his hands in a gesture of innocence, "I sent a request to join the Thornewood Clan, but I never received a reply. So, I wanted to ask in person."

Estelle shook her head no and pressed her lips together. She ceased her previous act of digging into the chair.

"I left the Four Corners Crew for...personal reasons," Indigo explained.

"Really?" Estelle replied, her eyes rolling, and she rested her head on her shoulder.

“It’s troo,” Triumph said.

Another droplet of water landed in the bucket, prompting Triumph to glance up at the ceiling and emit a low growl.

"Fine, you're in..." Estelle said.

"Wait...you trust the dog more than me?" Indigo asked, a mixture of annoyance and excitement in his voice.

"How many talking dogs do you know that lie?" Estelle retorted.

Indigo blinked a few times and rubbed his chin. The dog started to wag his tail.

"Fair enough," Indigo conceded, shrugging his shoulders. "Before we proceed, I do have one request."

"Oh?" Estelle asked, sitting up to her full height in the chair.

***