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The Brotherhood Of The Damned
Chapter 71: Catastrophic Situation!

Chapter 71: Catastrophic Situation!

The boiler room was unnaturally quiet, the silence oppressive as Lawrence descended the narrow staircase. The faint metallic tang of blood grew stronger with every step, and his unease deepened. He stopped abruptly as his boot slid slightly on something slick—blood, pooling thick and dark across the floor.

“What the...” Lawrence muttered, his sharp eyes scanning the scene before him.

Twelve bodies lay scattered, their positions unnatural, as if they’d been hurled by an unseen force. Their faces were locked in expressions of sheer terror, and their weapons lay useless beside them. Deep, ragged wounds covered their torsos and limbs—this was no clean execution.

The air felt heavy, oppressive, and Lawrence instinctively drew on his Arkamon Flux. A warm, reddish-brown energy surged through his body, coating his skin in a copper-hued glow. His muscles hardened, his senses sharpened, and the oppressive chill that seemed to emanate from the carnage receded slightly.

“Who the hell did this?” Lawrence whispered, stepping cautiously among the carnage.

Before he could linger further, a voice broke through the oppressive silence, smooth and familiar. “Quite the nasty mess, isn’t it?”

Lawrence whirled around, his body still radiating Flux energy. From the swirling mist at the far end of the room, Harvey emerged, his footsteps measured and deliberate. Beside him was Sia, her expression pale and grim.

“Harvey?” Lawrence’s tone was sharp, his confusion evident. “What are you doing here? It’s not like you to leave RiverFall, let alone come all the way to Sharman. What’s going on?”

Harvey’s eyes swept briefly over the bloodstained floor and broken bodies before locking onto Lawrence. “That’s not important right now.”

“Not important?” Lawrence barked, his frustration bubbling to the surface. He gestured to the carnage. “Do you expect me to ignore this? Who did this?”

Harvey’s gaze was steady, almost unnervingly calm. “The boy.”

Lawrence froze, disbelief etched on his face. “Kyon? That’s impossible. He doesn’t have the kind of power to—”

“He does now,” Harvey interjected.

The words hit Lawrence like a blow. “Where is he?”

“He’s heading for Conrad,” Harvey replied grimly.

The color drained from Lawrence’s face. “Conrad? Are you serious? Why didn’t you stop him? You’re perfectly capable of handling this—of stopping him before he gets himself killed!”

Harvey’s expression hardened. “You think I didn’t consider that? The boy isn’t the same as he was before.”

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“What do you mean?” Lawrence demanded.

“He’s not just using Psycho Flux, Lawrence. He’s controlling it in ways I’ve never seen before—potent, precise, and completely unpredictable. And it doesn’t stop there. He’s exhibiting something akin to Vampire Compulsion, or a hybrid of the two.”

Lawrence staggered back a step, his mind racing. “Compulsion? That’s impossible. No human—”

“He’s not fully human,” Harvey interrupted sharply. “You know that. And whether or not it’s supposed to be possible, he’s doing it. Do you think those bodies just fell on their own? He’s controlling an Elder Vampire, one who gave me trouble. He’s still under his influence.”

Lawrence stared at him, his mouth dry. “An Elder? You’re saying he’s got enough Psycho Flux to subdue an Elder Vampire?”

Harvey nodded grimly.

“You fought an Elder and didn’t stop him?” Lawrence pressed, his tone edging toward disbelief.

Harvey’s jaw tightened. “Do you think it’s that simple? I could have stopped the vampire, but not the boy. He’s unstable, Lawrence. Approaching him like that would have made me an enemy in his eyes. He doesn’t have the clarity to distinguish friend from foe. And if I pushed him too far...” He let the sentence hang ominously.

Lawrence exhaled sharply, struggling to process the revelation. “This isn’t just bad—it’s catastrophic. He shouldn’t even have the will to use Psycho Flux like that, not after just six months of training. No one outside the Mualim could pull this off—not without years of conditioning or an innate gift.”

“Kyon is an anomaly,” Harvey said flatly. “His potential is greater than we anticipated. And tonight, he’s proving it.”

Sia stepped forward then, her voice hesitant but firm. “He’s used it twice tonight.”

Both men turned toward her sharply.

“Twice?” Lawrence echoed, his voice low.

“Yes,” Sia confirmed. “The first time was during a fight with a female Elder Vampire. He was under extreme stress—his life was in danger. That’s when it first manifested.”

Harvey’s eyes narrowed, his expression darkening further. “That would explain the second time. He must have felt just as threatened. Stress and survival instinct—classic triggers for a Psycho Flux backlash.”

Lawrence shook his head, still reeling. “This... This is worse than I thought. Psycho Flux is already dangerous enough—deadly—even by Mualim standards. And now he’s suffering backlash? If we don’t act soon—”

Harvey cut him off. “We need to regroup. Get to Kadir and form a plan. The boy is completely unstable, and if we don’t act carefully, we’ll lose him—and anyone else who crosses his path.”

Lawrence straightened, his resolve hardening. The copper glow of his Flux brightened. “Then we move. Now.”

Harvey raised a hand, halting him. “Not yet.”

“What do you mean, ‘not yet’?” Lawrence demanded.

The mist in the room thickened suddenly, the air growing cold and heavy. A low growl echoed, followed by the faint hiss of movement.

And then, they appeared.

Six figures emerged from the fog, their movements inhumanly smooth. Their glowing red eyes pierced through the gloom, locking onto the trio with predatory intent.

“Bloodsuckers,” Harvey murmured, his voice calm but laced with tension.

Lawrence’s Arkamon Flux pulsed in response, the energy field surrounding his body glowing faintly with reddish-brown light. Beside him, Sia’s aura flared to life, her Flux taking on a vibrant orange hue. The air around her shimmered, the raw energy creating a visible distortion.

Harvey’s Flux was the last to manifest, a swirling, storm-like vortex of pale gold energy. It rippled around him, radiating an aura of authority and raw power.

The six vampires hissed, their red eyes narrowing as they sensed the surge of energy in the room. Their predatory movements slowed, as if reassessing their prey.

The tension in the boiler room reached a breaking point, the air crackling with the promise of violence. Lawrence flexed his fingers, the copper light around him hardening like a second skin.

“This won’t end well for them,” he muttered, his tone grim.

“No,” Harvey agreed, his voice low and steady. “It won’t.”

And then, the vampires lunged.