The boiler room was stifling, the oppressive heat leeching what little strength I had left. Steam hissed from ruptured pipes, casting eerie shadows across the walls. The metallic tang of rust and oil clung to the air, mingling with the faint scent of blood that had lingered ever since our escape began.

I crouched low behind a thick pipe, my breath shallow and shaky. Sia knelt beside me, her gaze locked on the two figures standing at the center of the room. One was the gaunt vampire with a cruel smirk, his mocking tone still echoing in my head. The other was the man who had burst in, his copper-toned aura flaring like molten light.

I couldn’t explain it, but something about the newcomer felt… overwhelming. His very presence seemed to vibrate with raw power, his calm stance radiating an intensity that made my weakened Flux feel like a faint candle in a storm.

And then it hit.

The vampire tilted his head, his grin widening. Without warning, a wave of pure malice rolled out from him, suffocating the room. It wasn’t just bloodlust—it was a tangible force, ancient and relentless, pressing down on my chest like a vise. I gasped, my hands trembling as the cold seeped into my bones, a cruel contrast to the boiling heat around me.

Sia’s hand darted to my shoulder, steadying me. Her face was pale, her expression tight with effort, but her voice remained calm. “Hold on, Kyon. Focus on your breathing.”

But it wasn’t just me. The man in the center—the stranger who had stepped in to face the vampire—staggered slightly under the weight of the aura. Only for a moment, though. Then his shoulders squared, and a second force rose to meet the vampire’s malice.

Copper light flared brighter around him, shimmering and pulsating like a living barrier. But there was something else now—a subtle shift in the air, like an unseen hand soothing my panicked mind. The suffocating bloodlust began to wane, replaced by a steadying calm.

“He’s using Psycho Flux,” Sia whispered, her voice laced with awe. “To block out the bloodlust. And… he’s shielding us.”

My eyes darted between the two figures, the oppressive atmosphere making every second feel like an eternity. “Who is he?” I asked, my voice barely audible.

Sia didn’t answer. Her gaze was fixed on the confrontation, a mixture of wariness and fascination flickering across her face.

The Penthouse.

On the 50th floor, the luxurious penthouse suite stood in stark contrast to the chaos below. The air was cool, the lighting warm and inviting. Yet the tension between the room’s occupants was palpable.

Kadir, the Flux Grandmaster, stood by the window, his hands clasped behind his back. His sharp eyes scanned the cityscape, though his attention was clearly elsewhere. Across from him, Conrad, the elder vampire, lounged in a high-backed chair, his pale fingers tracing the edge of a wine glass. Beside him stood Elijah, the coven master of Sacre Coeur, his posture rigid and unreadable.

The silence was broken by a faint rumble, as if the building itself had shuddered.

Conrad chuckled, his voice smooth and languid. “It seems your man has found a dance partner,” he said, swirling the dark liquid in his glass. “An excellent one, at that.”

Kadir didn’t turn from the window. “Faraday is skilled, but fights like these are unpredictable.”

Conrad’s smile widened, his fangs gleaming faintly. “Do you think your subordinate stands a chance? Or shall we make this interesting? If my assassin prevails, perhaps you’ll reconsider keeping the boy out of my reach.”

Kadir’s gaze shifted, his tone sharp. “Kyon is not a ‘thing’ to be owned or traded. He’s a person.”

“Spare me the moral posturing,” Conrad said, waving a hand dismissively. “The boy’s potential is wasted with you. He needs proper guidance—someone who understands his true nature.”

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Kadir’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t reply. The elder vampire’s words hung in the air, a quiet challenge that neither man would concede.

Elijah finally broke his silence. “The power below… it’s escalating.”

Conrad’s eyes gleamed. “Then let us watch and see who will remain standing.”

On the 15th floor, Lawrence halted mid-stride, his Echo Flux flaring like a beacon. The auras of two titans clashed below, sending ripples of power through the building. He clenched his fists, his mind racing.

Faraday. Harvey.

The realization hit him like a thunderclap. If the hunters—or worse, Conrad’s coven—caught wind of this fight, the fallout would be catastrophic. He turned sharply, redirecting his path toward the boiler room. He couldn’t afford to be late.

Kyon’s Point Of View.

The tension in the boiler room snapped like a taut wire. The vampire moved first, lunging forward in a blur of speed. The floor trembled beneath his steps, bolts rattling and machinery groaning under the force.

I barely had time to blink before the stranger—still radiating that strange copper light—sidestepped the attack. The vampire’s fist struck a metal pillar instead, the impact sending a deafening clang reverberating through the room.

“They’re testing each other,” Sia murmured beside me, her eyes locked on the fight. “Feeling out strengths and weaknesses.”

I watched, awestruck, as the man retaliated. His movements were precise, almost surgical. He didn’t waste energy on anything flashy. Instead, he stayed just out of the vampire’s reach, his fists darting out in sharp, calculated jabs that seemed to test his opponent’s defenses.

The vampire grinned, completely unfazed by the strikes. His next attack was faster, a relentless barrage of hooks and uppercuts that forced the stranger to retreat. The sheer ferocity of the onslaught sent shockwaves through the pipes, shaking our hiding spot and almost throwing me off balance.

“He’s a slugger,” Sia said, her tone clipped. “Close-range, overwhelming force. He thrives on pressure.”

“And the other guy?” I asked, my voice tight with tension, my eyes darting between them.

“Outboxing,” she replied. “Range, precision, adaptability. But it’s not just styles that matter. It’s about who controls the fight.”

My mind wandered for a moment, back to the time Lawrence had saved me from two vampires. The memory of his strength and precision, how he had taken them down without breaking a sweat, still lingered vividly. I leaned slightly toward Sia, my voice low but tinged with curiosity. “This kind of reminds me of when Lawrence fought those two vampires. He was amazing then too, wasn’t he?”

Sia’s head whipped toward me, her expression a mix of exasperation and disbelief. “Kyon,” she said sharply, “this is nothing like that.”

I blinked, taken aback by her tone. “How is it different? It’s still a fight against vampires, isn’t it?”

She shook her head, her eyes narrowing as she gestured toward the two combatants. “No, this is a completely different ball game. Lawrence is strong, yes, but what you’re seeing here? This is a battle between masters. Combat on this level… it’s not something you see every day. It’s rare, even for me.”

I turned my attention back to the fight. The atmosphere had shifted. The two were no longer testing the waters or gauging each other’s limits. It seemed they were done feeling each other out. They were about to strike in earnest, and I could feel the weight of it in the air.

Sia’s voice broke through my thoughts, her tone softening slightly. “Pay attention, Kyon. This isn’t just about brute strength. Look closely. There’s more to it than just power.”

I nodded, swallowing hard as I watched the stranger—Harvey, as Sia had called him—adjust his stance. The vampire opposite him bristled with tension, his grin widening in anticipation. I couldn’t deny it anymore. Sia was right. This was something else entirely.

The battle grew more intense. The vampire’s relentless aggression left no room for mistakes, his strikes landing with enough force to dent the thick metal walls around them. But the stranger—Harvey, as Sia had called him—moved with a fluidity that was almost inhuman, his copper aura shielding him from the brunt of the blows.

Still, it wasn’t perfect. A heavy hook slipped through Harvey’s guard, slamming into his side. He staggered back, his jaw tightening as he quickly adjusted his footing.

My stomach churned. “He’s losing,” I muttered under my breath.

“No,” Sia said firmly, her gaze unwavering. “Look closer.”

Harvey shifted his stance, his breathing steadying as he analyzed the vampire’s movements. His guard tightened, his footwork became more deliberate. When the vampire lunged again, Harvey sidestepped smoothly, delivering a sharp counterpunch to his ribs with unerring precision.

I could see it now—the subtle changes in Harvey’s strategy, the way he adapted to the vampire’s overwhelming strength. It was like watching a master craftsman in the middle of creating something intricate and exact.

The fight raged on, every blow shaking the room. Steam hissed from the pipes, machinery groaned under the strain, and sparks flew as the two clashed. The heat was unbearable, suffocating even, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away.

The vampire roared in frustration, his bloodlust flaring again in a desperate attempt to seize control of the fight. The oppressive malice pressed against me, but Harvey didn’t falter. His copper aura burned even brighter, holding firm as he prepared for the next exchange.

My breath caught in my throat. I didn’t know who would come out on top, but one thing was clear—this wasn’t just a fight. It was a level of combat far beyond anything I had ever seen, or could even comprehend.

And it was only beginning.