The air crackled with the faint remnants of my fading Flux barrier. My breaths were sharp and shallow, each one drawn with deliberate effort. Mika circled me like a predator savoring her prey, her movements unnervingly fluid, her claws still dripping with my blood.

“Still standing?” she taunted again, her lips curling into a smirk that revealed her fangs.

I forced myself upright, glaring at her through a fog of pain. My legs shook beneath me, the strain of keeping them steady becoming unbearable. Sia was gone now, the server room door sealing her from view. Relief and dread mingled in my chest—I had bought her the time she needed, but that meant the entirety of Mika's wrath was now focused on me.

Conrad had planned this, of course. Somewhere in this hotel—maybe a penthouse, maybe a hidden control room—I could sense his presence like a shadow. He was watching, measuring me like a chess piece on his board, his hand hovering over the next move.

“Master Conrad always did have a soft spot for projects,” Mika sneered, tilting her head. “I’m starting to see why he likes you, though. You don’t break easily.”

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t waste the energy.

I pressed my back against the wall, my gaze locked on her. She moved closer, her claws scraping lightly against the floor.

Somewhere beyond this nightmare, I felt a faint echo—a whisper of Sia’s wavelength through the bond we shared. EchoFlux. It wasn’t precise, but I could feel her intent, hear the trace of her voice as she contacted Lawrence. Desperation threaded her words, and my mind clung to the hope that her call would reach him in time.

Mika tilted her head, her smirk deepening as if she could hear everything Sia was saying. Of course, she could—vampires had supernatural hearing.

“Oh, how sweet,” Mika purred, tapping a clawed finger against her lips. “Would you like to see the heart that beats for you, Kyon? I could bring it to you, still warm, if you’d like.” Her tone was mockingly soft, but her eyes were cold.

My jaw clenched. She thought we were lovers. She thought that made this worse for me—and maybe she was right. Sia was dear to me, and knowing Mika could reach her only stoked the fire in my chest.

Sia wasn’t safe, not truly. If Mika turned her attention away from me, it wouldn’t matter if she was behind a locked door. And Sia… Sia was stubborn. I could sense it through the Flux—the hardening of her resolve, her intention to leave the server room and come back to me.

Mika stepped closer, her claws clicking against the tiles. “Don’t look so tense. It’ll all be over soon.”

Fear, anger, desperation—they built in my chest like a storm. My vision blurred, the edges tinged with red as I pushed off the wall, planting my feet despite the weakness screaming through my body.

Mika moved. Fast. Too fast.

Her claws swept toward me, and I barely ducked in time. The movement sent a sharp jolt of pain through my legs, but I forced myself to keep moving, stumbling back against the wall. Her next strike came even faster—a blur of motion that left me gasping as I dodged by inches.

“You’re done,” she said, her voice almost gentle, like she was coaxing me into submission. “Just let it happen.”

Something broke inside me then. Something desperate, primal—a clawing, reckless instinct to survive.

I reached deep into the Flux, past the familiar pathways of EchoFlux and ArkamonFlux, and into something darker, sharper.

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It felt like plunging into ice water. My chest tightened, and my mind surged with a sharp, electric pulse. The world shifted.

Mika’s smirk faltered. She staggered mid-step, her predatory grace disrupted.

“What—”

Her voice wavered, and I saw it—her mind fracturing, splintering under the weight of this new power. PsychoFlux.

Images flashed across my vision—Mika’s memories, fragments of centuries-old battles and blood-soaked nights. I couldn’t make sense of them, but one memory stood out—too vivid, too cruel to ignore. I saw her as a child, standing with three others, staring at her mother, whose face was pale, lifeless, and covered in blood. A game. A game of life and death.

Conrad’s voice echoed in her memory, cold and calculating. “Now, choose. Who wants to live the most? Who’s willing to sacrifice their own blood for the other’s life?”

Mika’s mother, her sisters—all pleading for their lives, torn apart by their love for each other. And then the moment that shattered everything: Conrad, standing in the shadows, a cruel smile spreading across his face as he forced each of them to choose. One by one, their lives snuffed out. Their loyalty tested, stretched, and broken by the hands of a man who had never known mercy.

The memory hit me like a freight train. I could feel the pain, the rawness, the desperation flooding my mind. Mika’s heartbreak, her betrayal, her turning into the cold, ruthless creature she was. I could taste it in the air, the bitterness of her rage.

I could almost hear Lawrence’s voice, distant, cutting through the chaos of her memories.

He had warned me once, his words still vivid in my mind:

"There’s a third type of Flux—PsychoFlux. It’s a double-edged sword, and most people can’t even tap into it. But I’ve got a feeling you might be able to. And if you do, you won’t be the same. No one who’s used it ever is."

His voice had been heavy with concern.

"Even the strongest Flux users avoid it," he had said. "Training your mind, focusing on what you want to see—it’s not enough. There are doors you shouldn’t open. When you see into someone’s thoughts, you’re not just looking at their memories. You’re seeing who they really are. And with beings like vampires—centuries, millennia of history—you’ll break. You can't control it. You can have all the willpower in the world, but something will slip through. Something will break you down, piece by piece."

I remembered the way his voice had dropped, almost a whisper. "Some people even develop dual personalities, Kyon. They can’t stop. The power to shatter a mind... it’s intoxicating, but it costs you your sanity. The more you know, the more it takes from you."

But it was too late.

I pushed harder, pouring my fear, my anger, and my resolve into the Flux. Her resistance crumbled, her defiance faltered, but the weight of her trauma began to seep into my own mind. I felt like I was drowning in it—her centuries of brutality, her twisted loyalty to Conrad, her hatred for the one who had murdered her family.

"You… dare?" she snarled, but her voice was weak, trembling. Her claws twitched, her movements becoming erratic as she stumbled back, losing her grip on reality.

I couldn’t stop. The flood of images didn’t stop. I saw her fall, saw her rise, again and again, over the centuries—each time more fractured, more broken. The brutality she had endured, the darkness she had become. And in the midst of it all, I saw the chilling shadow of Conrad looming over her, controlling her, manipulating her, turning her into something less than human.

Then, the strain hit me. My head throbbed, and my limbs felt like lead. The weight of Mika’s memories and emotions crushed me, the line between her mind and mine blurring until I wasn’t sure where she ended and I began.

But I held on. I had to. She was weakening.

Somewhere above us, Conrad’s voice crackled faintly. He was watching. Of course, he was.

“Fascinating,” he murmured, his tone laced with curiosity. “A Psycho Flux user. Elijah, have you ever seen one this young achieve it?”

“Never,” came the reply, cold and clinical. “And certainly not against a vampire of Mika’s strength.”

Their voices faded as the strain of maintaining PsychoFlux overwhelmed me. The sheer force of it was too much, and I felt myself collapsing under the pressure.

Sia’s face appeared before me, her form an unclear, distant figure through my blurred vision. Her voice cracked through the fog of my mind.

“Kyon, stay with me,” she whispered, but her voice felt miles away. It wasn’t enough. I couldn’t hold on.

And then I dropped. The Flux shattered, and with it, the pieces of my sanity.

My body hit the ground, weak and trembling, unable to stand under the weight of the mental chaos I had just unleashed. Mika, too, staggered back, her form a shadow against the dim light.

Her eyes met mine, but there was something different now—something that had been shattered in her. I had broken her in a way Conrad never had. Not physically, but mentally. And as I lay there, gasping for breath, I could only hope that I hadn’t broken myself in the process.

Lawrence’s words echoed in the silence, distant and haunting.

“PsychoFlux isn’t something you can control, Kyon. It takes everything you are... and leaves you with nothing.”

I wasn’t sure if I could ever go back from this.