The echoes of the stairwell still lingered faintly in Kadir’s mind, even as he stood in the vast chamber above. His expression was composed, but his thoughts were anything but calm. What he had just witnessed—what Kyon had achieved—was far beyond what even he had anticipated.

Shockwave Annihilation.

The technique wasn’t just rare; it was devastating. A feat requiring not only mastery of Flux but a complete surrender to the Flow State, where mind and body moved in perfect synchronization. It was an alignment that only a handful of practitioners ever achieved in their lifetimes. And yet Kyon, a boy burdened by doubt, anger, and fear, had managed to achieve it in the middle of a battle.

“Remarkable,” Kadir muttered to himself, his tone carrying both admiration and caution. He had pushed Kyon to this moment, yes, but the boy’s ability to reach into the depths of his power despite the weight of his self-doubt was something even Kadir hadn’t entirely predicted.

His gaze shifted to Conrad, whose silence spoke volumes. The ancient vampire stood rigid, his crimson eyes fixated on the door to the stairwell below. Fury simmered beneath his calm façade, but Kadir could see the flicker of unease in his expression.

“I see you’re troubled,” Kadir said, breaking the silence with a faint smile.

Conrad’s lip curled, his voice cold. “Troubled? No. But I am curious, Grandmaster. How is it that a child wielding Flux—barely trained, unrefined—could defeat one of my most loyal acolytes? Vincent was no mere fledgling. He was a warrior. And now he’s ash.”

Kadir’s smile widened ever so slightly. “You flatter me, Conrad. But what could I have done? I was here the entire time.”

Conrad turned his gaze to Kadir, his suspicion clear. “You speak as though you weren’t guiding him. Manipulating events from the Pulse, perhaps?”

Kadir’s expression didn’t falter, though the energy in the room seemed to shift subtly. “Unlike you, I don’t stoop to such tactics. I told you before—Kyon is more than you think. Perhaps you simply underestimated him.”

Conrad’s fangs glinted as his lips pulled into a slow, humorless smile. “Perhaps.”

The tension in the room thickened, and then, without warning, Kadir let his Psycho Flux surge outward. The reddish-yellow and black lightning crackled through the air, the oppressive weight of his energy pressing down on everyone present. The walls seemed to hum with it, vibrating under the sheer force of his presence.

“No more games,” Kadir said, his voice low but unyielding. “When Kyon steps through that door, he will leave with me. This farce has gone on long enough.”

Conrad’s response was immediate. His own aura flared to life, the suffocating bloodlust filling the room like a living thing. It pressed back against Kadir’s Psycho Flux, the clash of energies shaking the chamber.

“Gentlemen,” Elijah’s voice cut through the tension, calm but commanding. The Coven Master of Sharman stepped forward, his dark eyes steady as they flicked between the two. “Let us not forget the terms of our agreement. The Sacré Coeur will honor its word—as long as Kyon makes it here alive.”

Conrad turned his gaze to Elijah, his eyes narrowing dangerously. “And who gave you the authority to speak for me?”

Elijah didn’t flinch. “Perhaps you should count your losses, Conrad. The number of vampires lost tonight is more than enough to draw the Council’s ire. Do you really want to explain to them why so many resources were wasted on one Daywalker?”

Kadir watched silently, his arms crossed as Elijah continued.

“Besides,” Elijah said, his tone sharp, “are you truly prepared to defy a Flux Grandmaster of this caliber? You’ve had your chance. Don’t turn this into a war—especially not in my city.”

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Conrad’s jaw tightened, his mind racing. His gaze shifted between Elijah and Kadir, weighing his options. He knew he could overpower Elijah in a direct confrontation, but Kadir... Kadir was an enigma. And the last thing Conrad needed was for the two to join forces against him.

Slowly, Conrad exhaled, the oppressive weight of his bloodlust receding. “Very well,” he said, his tone clipped. “We shall see if the boy survives long enough to reach us.”

Kadir said nothing, though the faintest trace of a smile lingered on his lips.

Kyon's First Person Point Of View.

Every step I took felt like a war waged within my own body. My legs buckled under their weight, my muscles trembling with exhaustion. Every breath scraped against my throat, shallow and labored, like I was breathing through shards of glass. My vision swam, shadows and blurs bleeding into one another, threatening to pull me into unconsciousness.

But I kept moving.

The hum of my Flux was faint now—a whisper of energy buried deep within me. It was fragile, like the last flicker of a dying flame, but it refused to be extinguished. That hum kept me tethered, reminding me of what I’d just survived and what I had yet to face.

I stumbled onto the landing, collapsing against the wall. The concrete was cold against my skin, grounding me in the here and now. I pressed my forehead against it, letting the chill anchor me as I drew in slow, shaky breaths. For a moment, I allowed myself to rest, to gather what little strength I had left.

But then my eyes found him.

Faraday.

He lay in a crumpled heap at the base of the stairs, his body twisted and broken. Blood pooled beneath him, dark and glistening, but he wasn’t dead. Not yet. I could see it—the faint rise and fall of his chest, the subtle twitch of his fingers. And more than that, I could feel it through the Echo Flux. His body was already working to repair itself, the cursed regeneration of his kind knitting flesh and bone back together.

I stared at him, unmoving, my thoughts churning in a storm of contradictions.

Part of me wanted to end it right there. To finish what I’d started.

He deserves it, a voice whispered in my mind, low and venomous. You’ve already killed Vincent. What’s one more?

My fingers twitched at my sides, curling into trembling fists. That voice—it wasn’t wrong. Faraday wasn’t innocent. He’d been Conrad’s enforcer, a willing participant in countless horrors. How many lives had been snuffed out because of him? How many people had suffered because he’d chosen to follow orders without question?

But even as the anger boiled in my chest, a quieter voice pushed its way through the noise.

He’s a victim too.

My throat tightened as I forced myself to really look at him. Faraday wasn’t fighting anymore. He wasn’t snarling or defiant. He was just... broken. A man trapped in a body that wasn’t entirely his own, bound to Conrad’s will like a marionette on strings. How much of his cruelty had been his choice? And how much of it had been forced on him by a master who cared nothing for his soul?

He twitched again, a faint groan escaping his lips. I flinched, my hand instinctively going to the wall to steady myself.

He’ll never be free, the darker voice hissed. You know that. As long as Conrad lives, Faraday will just fall back into his shadow. He’ll keep killing, keep destroying, because that’s all he’s allowed to be. Maybe it’s better this way. Cleaner. A mercy.

I closed my eyes, my forehead still pressed against the wall. My body trembled—not from exhaustion this time, but from the weight of the decision before me.

I could end this. One strike. That’s all it would take. One clean blow, and Faraday would never hurt anyone again. He’d never be forced to commit another atrocity. He’d never have to suffer under Conrad’s control.

But the thought of it made my stomach churn.

I pushed off the wall, my legs unsteady beneath me, and turned to face him fully. His chest rose and fell in shallow breaths, his face slack with unconsciousness.

And then, as if sensing my presence, his eyes cracked open.

Bloodshot and hazy, they locked onto me, and for a moment, there was no hatred in them. No defiance. Just resignation.

His lips moved, the words barely audible over the pounding of my heart.

“Do it,” he rasped. “You think you’ve won, but you haven’t... not yet.”

I stared, my breath catching in my throat.

“Conrad... he’ll come for me. He’ll... erase me. Strip me of what’s left. I’ll... become something worse than I already am.” He coughed, blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth. “You compelled me, boy. But you won’t hold me forever. And when he breaks me... you’ll regret leaving me alive.”

His words cut through me like a knife, the weight of them sinking into my chest. He wasn’t lying. I could feel it in the way his voice shook, in the raw honesty of his broken body.

“You’ve seen what I’ve done,” he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. “You know what I am. There’s no coming back from that. So do it. Finish it.”

I swallowed hard, my hands trembling as I clenched them into fists.

Could I do it? Could I take his life here and now, knowing it might save lives in the future? Or would that make me no better than him—no better than the monsters I was trying to fight?

I stared down at him, my mind a cacophony of voices, each one pulling me in a different direction.

What was the right thing to do?

The question burned in my mind as I stood there, paralyzed by indecision.

And for the first time, I didn’t know the answer.