End before the New Beginning

To be honest, what weighed on me the most wasn’t just the looming mission or the potential dangers it posed—it was my Likeness.

The once-towering tree was now withering before my eyes. Over the last two days, its transformation had been slow but relentless. Dried leaves detached themselves one by one, spiraling downward and vanishing into nothingness. Its deep blue trunk, which had always represented a sense of lasting stability, was now darkening to indigo—a clear sign I was stepping into uncharted territory, an area of deep mysteries and uncertainties. The leaves, once a mesmerizing kaleidoscope of shifting rainbow hues that changed daily, were now a dull amber. The message was clear: a warning.

I had plenty of reasons to suspect what might be behind these changes. The first was obvious—we were tailing the villains connected to the underground auction, a dangerous game in itself.

The second reason was Vesper’s involvement, her presence adding layers of unpredictability. And then, of course, there was the ominous possibility of a doomsday-level event.

But honestly, every country on Earth had superpowered militaries trained to handle those apocalyptic scenarios, so that wasn’t my primary concern. There were still smaller, immediate dangers to worry about. Sudden ambushes, unforeseen consequences, or getting mobbed by people with grudges—or worse. For now, all I could do was focus on the present and make plans for a future that felt increasingly fragile. The tree was a sign, no doubt, and ignoring it wasn’t an option.

I bent down, grabbing Jade to plant a quick peck on her cheek. She tried to dodge, her coffee mug held precariously in one hand, but all she could manage was a grumble and an exaggerated huff. Smirking, I let her be and grabbed the extra towel hanging in the room before heading to the bathroom.

Once inside, I settled onto the toilet seat, letting out a quiet breath as I took out an ice cube. But this wasn’t your typical ice cube made of frozen water that would melt in seconds. No, this was a magical construct—arcane spells encased in crystalline form—given to me by Sir Nash. Right now, in my hand, I had two spells ready for use: Weight of Time and Breakdown.

The spells weren’t without their drawbacks, though. Over the past couple of months, I’d noticed the side effects of Splinter and Mindfield. Splinter made me lose my rationality far more often than I liked, while Mindfield dulled my already questionable sense of morality. Neither was ideal, but both were manageable—for now.

If I were being honest, I suspected the only reason the spells hadn’t wreaked more havoc on me was because I had a more than decent grip on my mind and emotions. At least, better than most. Still, as much as I disliked using them, the choice wasn’t really mine to make. Given what was coming—the storm that loomed on the horizon—I needed every edge I could get to stand my ground. If I wanted to avoid being swept away, I had to be ready.

And these spells? They were my only option.

I stared at the two spells in my hand. Leave a Face Behind was still sitting in my lab, untouched.

Given how chaotic the last few days had been, I hadn’t had the time—or the stomach—to revisit it. But the experiment’s results with it had been unsettling, to say the least. So unsettling, in fact, that I hadn’t even considered going near it again, let alone using it on myself. I could still clearly remember every detail of the eerie smile in my mind as if it had imprinted into the deepest part of my memories. Similarly, Jade was well aware of the side effects of the other spells. If she found out I was planning to use one more, she’d probably lose it.

I could already picture her reaction: storming in, snatching the spells out of my hands, and lecturing me until I gave up entirely. No way I was letting that happen. That’s why I’d come to the bathroom to perform the little ritual in secret. Hopefully, it wouldn’t cause enough commotion to alert anyone to what I was doing. It wasn’t like I had time to explain—or argue.

Thankfully, the process was quick. But I couldn’t ignore the memory of the pain that came with bonding to Mindfield and Splinter. I knew what was coming. To prepare, I stuffed a towel into my mouth. It wasn’t exactly ideal, but the alternative—a shampoo bottle—seemed both ridiculous and like a very bad idea.

I let out a muffled sigh around the towel. This was going to hurt, no doubt about it. But there was no turning back now.

With a slight pinch between my index finger and thumb, I broke the ice cube shell of the Weight of Time spell.

The dormant arcane magic inside expanded instantly, its ghostly surface morphing like a living entity as it began to envelop me. I clenched my teeth and squeezed my eyes shut, bracing myself for whatever was about to hit. But then, just as quickly, the spell collapsed on itself—or more accurately, on me. When I opened my eyes, there was nothing. No changes in my surroundings, no sensation of pain, no dramatic effects. Everything was eerily normal. Did it fail? Or had it expired because I left it sitting on the shelf for too long? I couldn’t figure it out. It was completely different from the Mindfield and Splitter spells I’d used in the past—spells that helped me organize my thoughts and shield myself from telepathic attacks.

The Weight of Time spell was supposed to enhance my defenses. The mechanics behind it were mind-boggling—using time itself to negate damage. I’d met plenty of metahumans with meta natures that played with similar concepts. Some absorbed attacks and sent the damage to their future selves to deal with later, while others made injuries appear on their bodies hours after the fact, allowing them to keep fighting in the moment. The most ingenious example I’d encountered was someone whose meta nature gave them a glimpse of the injuries they’d sustain a day before they happened. It was like a small insight into the future, but only for damage. Armed with that knowledge, they could think of ways to avoid harm altogether.

But the Weight of Time spell: From what I understood, it might have been distributing the damage across my past self in short bursts, allowing me to endure heavier blows without breaking.

Of course, only Sir Nash, the creator of the spell, truly understood how it worked. The man was a metahuman on another level entirely. He had access to what felt like an endless arsenal of useful meta natures, each one more ingenious than the last. He literally had hundreds of powers at his disposal. He wasn’t just in a league of his own—he was the league.

I remembered something and took a step aside from the toilet seat to the full body mirror and Indeed, the signs were quite apparent. My eyes—they were changing. I could see black strangeness suddenly appearing out of nowhere, swirling and slowly mixing into already existing strangeness in my corneas, like tendrils of madness. It was moving, shifting… and maybe even rejoicing.

The whole process felt symbolic, like the root of the arcane or something equally profound. Or maybe it was madness.

Either way, the spell I now used was clearly coagulating something within me, shaping and altering me in ways I didn’t fully understand.

Unlike the Mindfield and Splinter spells, which had created a helix-like structure within my consciousness that I could access by focusing my mind on a single point, there seemed to be no straightforward way to figure out how the Weight of Time spell worked without actually getting into a fight.

My lips curled up into a smile as a thought crossed my mind—maybe I could test it by wrestling with Jade. That sounded like a good idea. A very good idea indeed.

Though, I suddenly felt a strange compulsion.

Slowly, I lifted my hand and peeled open the lid of my left eye, staring closely at the void inside. For a moment, I just studied it, my breath slow, controlled—too controlled. My index finger hovered hesitantly, lingering just above the surface. Then, finally, I touched it. Nothing. It wasn’t soft, not like an eye should be—unnervingly so. My skin brushed against it, expecting some kind of give, some reaction, but there was none. No discomfort. No sensation. No resistance. I let out a slow breath. It felt… smooth. Glasslike.

As if it wasn’t a part of me at all—just a reflection of something that used to exist. Curious, I dragged my nail against it, scratching lightly. No pain. No irritation. Just that same eerie smoothness. Like I wasn’t touching an eye. Like I was touching something else entirely. Something unnatural.

Something that had long since stopped belonging to me. I couldn’t properly express the feeling.

Those things clearly weren’t eyes anymore—not in the traditional sense. I didn’t even know what to call them. Crystal orbs?

That sounded about right. Whatever they were, they were definitely not human.

I sighed, shutting my so-called eyes, but it wasn’t the same as blinking. There was no moisture, no sensation, just the mechanical motion of eyelids covering something that wasn’t supposed to be there. First, my mind had twisted into something alien, no longer organic or human. And now, my eyes followed suit. Great. Just great.

I rolled my supposed new eyes, feeling both amused and irritated at the absurdity of it all. Yet, no matter how much I tried to shrug it off, I couldn’t shake the gnawing discomfort clawing at my thoughts.

Arcane—it was truly a corruption of the human mind and body.

…

…

…

The underground auction was set for tonight.

By evening, our group was split between two cars, loaded up and ready to go.

When the clock struck six, we arrived at the abandoned train museum —the same location we’d scouted last night.

We parked some distance away, far enough to avoid immediate suspicion but close enough to keep a clear view of the entrance. The plan was simple: watch and learn. We needed to see who was going in, how they were getting inside, and if there were any hidden security measures. Every detail mattered if we wanted to slip in undetected.

In one car, Alex, Lore, Jade, and I were stationed about two or three hundred meters from the gate. Our vantage point was decent—not perfect, but enough to give us a direct line of sight to the entrance. In the other car, stationed slightly farther down, were Henry, Vinico, Gina, Louvel, and Placid. They were positioned at a different angle, keeping an eye on side routes, blind spots, and possible escape points.

Alex and Lore both had magnifying scopes trained on the main gate and the surrounding area, their eyes glued to the scene outside. They were looking for anything—an alternate entrance, hidden doors, patterns in movement, or even subtle tells that might reveal the access point.

So far, though, we hadn’t seen much.

Just a few people here and there, slipping through like they knew exactly where to go. Each of them was dressed in sleek black and blue suits—the kind that screamed wealth and exclusivity.

"Looks like VIPs," Alex muttered, still glued to her scope.

"Agreed," Lore added, adjusting her lens slightly. "They're moving like they belong here. No hesitation, no second-guessing."

Jade, seated beside me, let out a low whistle. "So, what? Do we just walk up like we own the place, too?"

"That’s the general idea," I murmured, watching the gate with narrowed eyes.

Fortunately, we’d already prepared for this. Our group was dressed to blend in—dark, clean-cut suits, expensive-looking accessories, and just enough confidence to avoid suspicion. We weren’t going in guns blazing. We were ghosts until proven otherwise.

"No one is stopping them at the front gate," Alex muttered, still observing through the scope.

That was good and bad. Good because it meant no immediate ID checks or forceful screenings. Bad because we had no idea what was waiting inside.

Lore frowned. "Either security is tighter inside… or there’s some kind of hidden verification system we’re not seeing."

I exhaled slowly. "We need to know how they're being identified. Badges? Chips? Biometrics?"

Alex scanned the incoming VIPs again. "None of them are showing anything obvious."

“Could be hidden tech. Smart lenses, coded frequencies in their suits, or—hell—maybe they’re using meta-detection scanners."

The last option made my stomach tighten. If they were using high-level scanning systems, we’d be screwed before we even stepped through the door.

Alex kept watching. "There’s still no sign of bodyguards or enforcers. Either they’re really confident no one’s gonna try anything stupid, or…"

"…They've got defenses in places we can’t see," Lore finished grimly.

Jade sat in the backseat with Lore, but my attention kept drifting toward her. I was in the front passenger seat, trying to focus on the mission—on the auction, on the risks, on the countless moving pieces that could go wrong.

But every time I sneaked a glance at the rearview mirror, my thoughts derailed.

She was wearing a sheer, off-white blouse with long, puffed sleeves that tapered delicately to fitted cuffs. The high neckline added a refined elegance, while a large fabric flower adorned her shoulder. The semi-transparent fabric gave a glimpse of subtle layers beneath, creating a sense of sophistication. She paired the blouse with a matching sheer, layered maxi skirt that flowed gracefully around her, the gathered tiers near the hem adding a romantic, dreamy quality. The soft shimmer of the fabric caught the light with every step, and pointed silver heels peeked out from beneath the long skirt. Her loose, natural waves cascaded over her shoulders, framing her face with an effortless kind of grace—the kind you couldn’t manufacture.

She must have felt my gaze, because our eyes met briefly in the mirror. A single second. Maybe less.

I cleared my throat, trying to pull myself together.

“Once we’re inside, we need to be ghosts,” I suggested, my voice steadier than I expected.

Lore gave a small nod, his eyes still fixed on the gate. “Agreed. No slip-ups. One wrong move, and this whole thing could fall apart.”

The atmosphere in the car was cut short by the crackle of Gina’s voice over the phone. “I think it’s time to move.”

Alex and Lore immediately stopped their observations, their attention shifting to the conversation.

“Are you sure?” Lore asked, his tone cautious.

Gina hesitated, the faint sounds of the other car’s engine rumbling in the background. “Look, we don’t know the timing for sure, but if people are already going inside, it might have started. That’s probably why we’re not seeing much activity at the gate. I think it’s better to take the risk and move now. It’s already getting dark.”

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

With scopes still in his hands, Alex glanced at me, “What do you think?”

I exhaled deeply, my eyes flicking between the gate and the sky above.

The Likeness painted itself in swirling storm patterns above the abandoned train museum, a chaotic symphony of colors. Dark red rippled at the storm’s core, the embodiment of tension, while streaks of light blue shimmered in fleeting patches, symbolizing a fragile, temporary peace. Dark green twisted through the chaos—hidden developments lurking just out of reach. Emerald streaks flashed briefly, representing potential beneficial changes, but they were faint and fleeting. Violet swirled ominously, a promise of hidden truths waiting to be uncovered, while soft pink danced around the edges, hinting at minor conflicts.

And there, at the storm's periphery, faint streaks of gold glimmered—the rare promise of guaranteed success. Yet those streaks were few, sparse enough to remind me that nothing here was certain.

The Likeness confirmed what I already felt: the risk was undeniable, but waiting wasn’t an option. The storm showed paths of opportunity alongside danger. If we moved now, there were chances—slim, but present. But if the auction had already begun, we risked losing everything: our chance to observe, to intervene, to learn the truth.

“I think Gina’s right,” I said finally. “We need to move, but carefully. One group at a time. If something goes wrong, we retreat immediately.”

Alex gave a firm nod, and Jade grinned, her excitement barely restrained. “Let’s do this.”

We stepped out of the car, the cool evening air brushing against us as we adjusted our clothes. Our group had dressed to blend in—sharp and sleek, but not ostentatious. We needed to look like we belonged without standing out too much.

"Vinico," I said into the phone, keeping my voice low. "Leave clones behind to keep the car nearby. Park it somewhere close enough to grab if we need it."

"On it." His response was quick, efficient—no unnecessary chatter.

As he worked, Alex, Lore, Jade, and I began our cautious approach to the gate.

The guards at the entrance had their attention focused on monitors and a live holographic map, scanning for all and anything moving inside the park. It was very troublesome to simply sneak in.

They were here to keep people like us out. Then, something shifted. One second, the guards were fully present. The next, their heads turned as if pulled by invisible strings, drawn toward something far in the distance. It wasn’t just a glance. More like an itch on the back of their head. And then, the gate creaked open, malfunctioning, probably, and then the fuse box nearby suddenly caught fire with a flash of sparks.

I turned my head just enough to glance at Jade. She stood behind me, relaxed, unbothered, her expression one of quiet amusement.

Alex and Lore exchanged looks, wordless but knowing, before the three of us at the same time gave her an exaggerated thumbs-up.

Jade’s lips curled into a smirk, tilting her head slightly, as if to say, "Oh, was that impressive? I barely tried."

We slipped inside, moving like shadows with purpose, quick but quiet.

By the time we reached the meeting point, the rest of the group—Gina, Henry, Vinico, Louvel, and Placid—had followed the same invisible thread, arriving without incident.

We regrouped in the spot we had scouted the night before, the location where we had seen the invisible train.

But something was wrong.

The train wasn’t there.

…

…

“Where is it?” Gina muttered, her voice low but tense.

Her eyes swept the tunnel, scanning for anything we might have missed.

“It was here last night,” Vinico said, her brow furrowed. He was looking through the heat goggles, “It can’t have just vanished.”

“Well, it’s invisible,” Placid pointed out, “Maybe it’s still here, just... more invisible?”

Meanwhile, Alex was using portable x-ray scopes to scan the area, “I ain’t seeing anything.”

“Are you sure they are working?” Lore asked sceptically with her hands resting on her hips.

“Stop it!” I raised my hand, frowning. I signaled for everyone to calm down. “Someone might have taken it,” I said, keeping my tone steady to avoid letting the tension grow. “Just wait a little. It might be back in no time.”

I shrugged internally, worried about our group's real lack of common sense.

The group exchanged uncertain glances, their unease palpable, but no one argued.

There wasn’t much else we could do at the moment, and the last thing we needed was to start panicking.

“Let’s hide in the meantime,” I suggested, scanning the area for suitable cover. The last thing we wanted was to be caught out in the open if someone—or something—returned with the train.

Without a word, we moved into the shadows, spreading out to take positions behind whatever cover we could find.

Lore crouched behind a large, weathered tree trunk, its roots gnarled and twisted like frozen tendrils. Alex slipped behind a massive tumble of weeds, their overgrown forms creating a natural curtain that obscured her completely.

Gina and Vinico found a cluster of boulders, their jagged edges providing enough space to conceal them. Jade stayed close to me, tucking herself behind a massive stone as I pressed myself against its cool surface.

“Unless someone’s got X-ray or other meta-type vision,” Jade whispered, “they shouldn’t be able to spot us.”

“Let’s hope not,” I replied, my voice low. I adjusted my position, making sure I had a clear view of the tracks while staying hidden.

I focused on the Likeness again, trying to catch any changes in the swirling storm above and the train tracks. The big problem was that none of us would know even if the train was already on the tracks until someone opened the door from the inside.

Of course, I didn’t count Jade in we, she certainly had her way of seeing things from different perspectives.

I shifted my perspective further. However, I also wondered another thing at the same time, even though the arcane spell had mutated my eyes into that of crystals, they didn’t seem to lose their original function and nor was my meta nature affected in the slightest.

The only thing that changed though was the weird sensation of as they moved in my skull and they suddenly became very heavy. I could feel the weight rolling.

Focusing my thoughts on the urgent situation ahead, Instead of seeing the big picture, I broke down the Likeness into its fundamental form; I tried to see the shapes and not the whole picture. And immediately, my vision was filled with lines, squares, triangles and what not overlapping with the existing reality: plants, trees, the grass blades buried under the snow and the snow itself har turned into geometric structures.

If not for focusing on a point, I could barely see what was in front of me at the moment, as my Meta was so aggressive.

"It's here," Jade murmured, tapping my shoulder.

I gave a short nod in acknowledgment but didn’t turn around. Not yet. We had to wait, had to see if anyone was already inside.

I motioned for her to message the others instead of speaking aloud. No sudden noises. No movements that could give away our location to anyone watching.

But inwardly, I swore. Dammit. I turned my attention back, focusing hard on the lines and shapes, trying to make out any shifts, any warning signs in the air around us. Nothing.

That was wrong. It shouldn’t be nothing. The patterns should have shifted, the colors should have changed—something, anything to signal that stepping onto this train would alter my fortune.

Instead, the space just sat there, still and quiet. Weird.

I frowned. It really sucked when my meta nature didn’t work the way it was supposed to. Like, if there’s danger, show me. Even if something is invisible, that doesn’t mean it disappeared from local reality.

In one way or another, it’s still affecting the space. So why the hell wasn’t it reacting?

…

Fifteen more minutes of watching. Fifteen minutes of waiting, observing, questioning—and nothing. No one had taken the train. No hidden signals, no secret movements.

It was just… sitting there.

That was when I stood up, stretching out the tension in my limbs before gesturing for the others to follow. “Alright. We’re going in. Quietly.”

We moved discreetly, blending into the shadows as we approached. Following the same routine as before, I turned intangible, letting the energy shift through me before I stepped forward and passed effortlessly through the locked door.

A second later, I unlatched it from the inside. The compartment filled with the soft shuffle of boots and quiet murmurs as our group slipped inside.

Then, “Wow,” Gina whispered, her tone laced with something between wonder and suspicion. “It actually exists.”

I turned to her, deadpan. “Did you really think we were lying?”

She shrugged, crossing her arms. “I mean, I wasn’t fully convinced until now.”

I sighed. “Gina, we saw it yesterday.”

“Yeah, but you also said it was invisible, which—let’s be honest—sounds insane.”

Lore scanned the space, his expression calm but assessing. “And there’s no one inside.”

No conductor. No staff. Just us.

I frowned. “Either this place is fully automated, or whoever runs the underground auction doesn’t care enough to hire a driver for one night.”

Louvel let out a low whistle, strolling toward the front controls. “Well, in that case—” he plopped himself into the driver’s seat, flashing us a broad, satisfied grin. “—I guess I have some experience with running this.”

He reached for the lever, the one that seemed to act as both a throttle and an activation switch. I barely had time to take a seat before the entire compartment jolted, and the train hummed to life. The lights inside flickered once, then steadied.

And just like that—we were moving.

Meanwhile, I took Jade’s hand in mine as I sank into a corner seat, my mind still tangled in thought. Was the underground place entry by invitation only, or could anyone just walk in? If it was invitation-only, what was our next move? Would we have to forge our way in, sneak around, or—Something soft nudged my hand. At first, I ignored it, assuming it was just Jade adjusting her grip. But then, I felt her thumb pressing against mine, poking, nudging, swiping. I glanced down. Jade was completely focused, her silver eyes narrowed, her lips pressed in determined concentration.

She was… fighting with my thumb.

Like a cat batting at a toy, she was trying to pin my thumb down with her own. She’d move quickly, attempting to trap it under hers, but every time, I shifted just slightly out of her grasp. Her brows furrowed. She tried again—faster this time, a little flick of her wrist—but I was quicker, dodging at the last second. She let out a tiny huff. I clicked my tongue, biting back a smirk as I watched her. Here we were, sitting in a train compartment, waiting for an underground auction full of dangerous people, and instead of worrying about it, Jade was laser-focused on this ridiculous little battle.

Not the auction. Not the risk. Just my damn thumb.

I flicked it out of her reach again, watching as she squinted at me, frustrated yet stubborn.

“This is cheating,” she muttered.

I raised an eyebrow. “Cheating?”

“You’re too fast.” She pouted slightly, but the fire in her eyes didn’t dim. She wasn’t giving up.

With a sudden quick move, she faked to the right, then darted left—almost catching my thumb under hers. Almost. I dodged at the last second. Jade stared at my hand, betrayed.

Then, she lunged forward, full commitment, grabbing my entire hand with both of hers.

“HA!” she exclaimed triumphantly, her entire face lighting up as she pinned my thumb down with both hands.

I let out a chuckle. “Oh, wow. Two hands? That’s bold.”

She grinned. “Victory at all costs.”

I rolled my eyes. “I think that’s called desperation.”

She stuck her tongue out at me, still holding my hand hostage. “Sore loser energy.”

I shook my head, half-amused, half-fond. Of course, Jade would fixate on something so ridiculous in the middle of everything. She didn’t care about the auction, the risks, the danger. What mattered right now was that she had won our ridiculous thumb war.

And damn it, she looked so cute doing it.

The train rocked gently as it sped through the underground tunnels, the dim compartment light casting soft shadows against the metal walls. Jade was still leaning into me, fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on my wrist, her earlier victory in our ridiculous thumb war still fresh in her mind. Then, out of nowhere, she sighed dramatically and turned her face up toward me, silver eyes gleaming with something decisive.

“North,” she started, her voice suspiciously serious.

I glanced down at her, eyebrows raised. “Yeah?”

She poked me in the chest, twice for emphasis. “Once we wrap up this whole supervillain nonsense, you’re taking me to dinner.”

I blinked. “Dinner?”

“Yes. A real one.” She sat up straighter, crossing her arms like she was preparing for battle. “And before you say anything, no, I don’t mean grabbing takeout on the way home, or eating cold pizza .”

I exhaled through my nose, amused but also a little guilty, because… well. She had a point.

She tilted her head, waiting. “You realize you’ve never actually taken me on a proper dinner date, right?”

I frowned, thinking back. “…Haven’t I?”

She gasped, shoving me lightly. “See?! You don’t even remember!”

“Okay, ouch.” I caught her hand before she could push me again, lacing my fingers through hers. “We eat together a lot?”

“Yeah,” she scoffed. “You make lunch and dinner, but that’s not the point.”

I opened my mouth to counter that, but she gave me a pointed look.

“…Alright, fair.”

Jade leaned closer, squinting up at me with exaggerated seriousness. “I want a real date. You know—candlelight, actual silverware. Somewhere in a fancy restaurant.”

I smirked. “Yeah?”

She nodded, “And maybe… you can ask one of your teleporter friends to zap us somewhere in a different country?”

I huffed out a laugh. “Oh, so now I’m just using my connections to fast-track our date across dimensions?”

She waved a hand. “Come on. You’re telling me you can’t pull one little favor to take me somewhere fancy?”

I chuckled, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead. “Alright. I promise. After this, I’ll take you somewhere special.”

The atmosphere in the compartment grew heavier as the train descended deeper underground. The quiet hum of the rails against the tracks was the only sound, but inside, the tension was palpable.

Jade, who had just been dreaming about candlelit dinners in Italy, was now sitting rigidly beside me, her fingers tightening around mine. Vinico had gone unusually silent, staring out the window, while Gina’s leg bounced impatiently. Even Lore, who was usually the calmest among us, was frowning slightly, calculating something in her head.

We were close. And then. Shit. Through the train’s window, we saw something that threatened to wreck our entire plan. Right there, stationed at the underground checkpoint, were two guards in black suits. Not just any guards—high-level security. Armed, trained, professional. They were checking every single person coming through—whether they arrived via the underground waterway entrance or teleported in directly.

Invitations only. No exceptions.

The realization hit all of us at the same time.

Gina was the first to react, “Uh—North? We have a small problem.”

Vinico exhaled sharply, “No, we have a giant-ass problem.”

Placid leaned closer to the window, her fingers tapping against her thigh. “OMG, We are so screwed.”

Lore clicked her tongue. “Okay. We need a plan. Fast.”

“Okay, okay, okay—let’s not panic,” I interrupted.

I let out a slow breath as I squeezed Jade's hand. My crystalline eyes shifted in their sockets, heavy and strange, as I focused on the security checkpoint ahead. The Likeness painted itself across my vision in abstract geometry—triangles and squares overlapping reality, showing glaring danger. But instead of focusing on that I looked for gold threads that wove through the chaos, rare and precious, promising success.

I couldn't help the slight smirk that tugged at my lips. "We've got this handled."

My lucky charm, the arrogant dragon was right beside me, so why was there a need to panic. Even if the sky was falling, I was sure she could hold it all together.

Jade flipped her silver hair back, the movement deliberately casual as she leaned into me. The sheer fabric of her blouse caught the dim light, creating an ethereal effect that matched those otherworldly moon like eyes of hers. "Of course we do. Though honestly, what would you do without me here to save your ass every time?" she teased, voice carrying that effortless cocky charm she always had when she knew she had the upper hand.

"Lucky for me," I murmured, watching as the patterns of my meta nature swirled around her like they were drawn to her presence, "that's not something I need to think about. You're right here."

Jade’s sharp, witty exterior cracked just a little. Her gaze softened, the playful smirk fading into something warmer, something real.

"Oh God, they're doing it again," Placid groaned from behind us, the sound echoing in the train compartment. "Can we focus on not dying instead of whatever this is?"

"Seriously," Vinico chimed in, "this is physically painful to watch."

"can you two stop flirting for five minutes?"

Gina made a dramatic gagging noise. "Seriously, I think I lost a year off my life hearing that."

Jade was completely unbothered. "Y’all are just mad you’re not getting this level of love."

I chuckled, not bothering to argue. She wasn’t wrong.

What really got me, though, was how she never hesitated to defend me—not for a second. She didn’t care if it meant stepping out of her comfort zone or taking on anyone who doubted us.

Meanwhile, outside the train window, the real show was about to start.

At the security checkpoint, a man in a brown suit strutted up to the guards like he owned the place, two ridiculously hot women clinging to him like ornaments. I could already tell from the way the guy carried himself—he was exactly the type of sleazeball who thought money could buy anything. His gold rings gleamed, his slicked-back hair was too perfect, and his hands were resting just a little too comfortably on the women’s shoulders, fingers conveniently brushing against their breasts.

The guards barely reacted, just took his invitation, glancing it over with dull professionalism.

Then, a flicker.

A single light above them flickered. Once. Twice.

Then—BOOM.

A small pop echoed through the underground place entrance as sparks rained down from the ceiling. The guards barely had a second to react before a rogue spark landed directly onto a stack of papers sitting near their table.

In the next second. Fire.

The flames licked up the edges of the papers, climbing fast, catching onto the cloth-draped security desk before anyone could stop it. T

he guard dropped the invitation, cursing loudly as he stumbled backward. His partner ran around frantically, trying to find something—anything—to control the rapidly spreading fire. The man in the brown suit finally removed his hands from the women, using them instead to shield his face from the shower of sparks still raining down.

"Oops," Jade whispered beside me.

Chaos. Perfect, beautiful chaos.

The train compartment slid to a perfect stop amid the mayhem, and we didn't waste a second. Jade and I stepped out first, both of us wearing matching grins as we strode past the flaming chaos she'd created. I couldn't help letting out a laugh—it was just too perfect. Behind us, our group followed, and I could hear them barely containing their laughs and admiration.

"That was absolutely brilliant, Jade!" Alex exclaimed, trying to keep his voice down despite his excitement.

"Pure artistry," Lore agreed, matching our confident stride.

We confidently strode in.

No need to show invitation anymore.