"Sif!" Naomi cried, rushing to his aid and kneeling beside him.

The child recoiled in terror as he saw a puddle of sanguine grow beneath the masked man. "N... no... t-that wasn't..." he whimpered, dropping the bloodied shard of pottery from his tiny hands. Tears streamed down his cheeks, and he stumbled backwards, the weight of his actions crushing him. His distress was cut short by Edmund, who walked up to the boy and struck him to the ground with his staff.

Mercilessly, the magus thrashed the child, each blow leaving welts on his sooty skin. Unable to retaliate, the boy curled into a ball and covered his head, apologising profusely as his wails resounded throughout the steelworks. The tied-up children shuddered; some broke down sobbing. Yet the orcish overseers looked on calmly, not an iota of sympathy in their unyielding, stony eyes.

"Solast slanaich," Naomi whispered as she poised her hand above Sif's waist. A soft glow emanated from her palm, and the punctured flesh was restored, sinews tethered together by unseen forces. The man's injury now closed up, Naomi paid heed to the ruthless display before her. Horrified by Edmund's brutality, Naomi screamed at him. "Edmund, what the fuck are you doing?! You're going to kill him!"

The young magus paused and lowered his staff. "Say, Naomi," he muttered, tone tremulous, "what do you want from me..?"

"What..?"

"We all have our reasons for being here. You with your dream. Kaz and Sif with their families. Me with my girl back home. Motivations that drove us to pull this stunt. You said it yourself. This thing goes beyond ourselves. We're waging a war with this city for our place in it. Of course, I didn't think it'd be easy. But at the very least, I wanted all of us to make it out alive."

"Edmund..."

"But now the casualties are piling up... those child workers, Kaz, Sif. I'm starting to realise what we're asking for comes at a price. And if it's not them... it'll most certainly be us. So I ask you, Naomi," Edmund rammed the end of his staff against the child's chest, eliciting a squeal. "What the fuck do you want from me?!"

Naomi flinched, frightened by her leader's maddened state; she was left tongue-tied. The steel barricades lining the factory walls rumbled as Edmund's rage consumed him, and the flames fueling the blast furnaces soared. Ceiling lamps swung wildly as the room's pressure increased. And the dense air wriggled, the rising temperature becoming near-unbearable. The midsummer sun paled in comparison to this magick-induced heat wave.

Garreth ducked behind the wall atop the viewing platform and mulled over his options. He knew the magus would inadvertently lay waste to the steel mill if left alone; there would be no survivors. A direct approach would also anger him further, leading to the same outcome. His deliberation was ultimately upended once he spotted his partner on her feet. Jaw set, she levelled her revolver straight at Edmund.

"Have you gone daft, rookie?" Garreth rasped at her. "Get back down."

"Another life is going to be taken unless we do something."

"We've gone over this. The magi take priority, not the hostages. Now, stand down. You'll get us both spotted."

"I'm sorry, sir." Lynn's digit hovered over the trigger. "I can't do that."

A bead of sweat trickled off Garreth's bristly chin. There was no getting through to his high-minded partner. Pressing the balls of his feet against the floor, he was prepared to tackle Lynn. Little did he know, it was already too late to stop her.

In a single visceral instant, a gunshot was heard from all corners of the factory.

Ghostly blue flames erupted from the smelters, and Lynn let out a yelp as her firearm burst into fragments, crippling her right hand. Edmund whipped towards the source of the boom only to have a bullet pierce his mask, grazing his forehead and shattering his porcelain vizard. Hood thrown back by the subsequent gust, the magus lightly brushed his exposed temple. Seeing the smudged red on his fingertips, he clenched his staff and scowled at the agents above.

"E-Edmund..!" Naomi stuttered, stupefied by the space's spine-chilling transformation.

Blinded by wrath, the young magus kicked the boy beneath him aside. "I'll get us out of this... I swear." And he pointed his silvery rod at the observation deck. "Talamh stailinn!"

"Ah, for fuck's sake!" Garreth bolted for the door and dragged his partner by the wrist. Darting out onto the suspended walkway that skirted the factory walls, the pair scarcely evaded being skewered by a cluster of metal spikes. As the viewing platform was riddled with holes, it collapsed on itself. And their only escape—the emergency exit was now buried under a mound of rubble.

As Garreth dashed across the catwalk with Lynn in tow, Edmund concentrated on the beams holding the walkway up. With a flick of his staff, the metal supports twisted and snapped. The bridge gave way, plunging the two agents to the ground floor. While the fall was not fatal, it did leave them shaken and vulnerable; a puff of dust formed, blinding their field of vision. Regaining his footing, Garreth pulled out his sabre and checked on his partner.

"You still breathing, rookie?"

"S-somehow," Lynn cupped her charred hand as she stumbled. "I-I can't feel my fingers..."

"That's what happens when you blast a hand cannon in a high-entropy zone! Did you hit your head and lose—?"

Garreth reactively slanted his sword, just barely diverting an oncoming spike. Sparks went flying as the tapered metal ground against his blade. As Edmund's porcelain mask lay broken on the ground, the astonishment in his ruddy, juvenile face was perceivable. His control of the steel waned; within seconds, the protrusion crumbled into pieces. Dumbfounded, Lynn gaped at her unfazed partner.

"Remember that handkerchief, rookie?" Garreth asked, eyes trained on the magus ahead.

"Y-yes," the girl squeaked. "It's—"

"Standard issue, I know. Now, listen carefully. I'll only say this once. Patch yourself up and grab the switchblade from your coat. While I keep the blueblood busy, you free the hostages. Got it?"

Hearing her partner's orders, Lynn perked up. "O-oh, yes, sir!"

"You're the one who got us into this mess. So you better deliver on your end."

"Will do!"

Garreth nodded to his partner and neared Edmund, sabre aimed toward him. "This is your last chance to turn yourself in, Ed. Drop the staff, and no one else needs to get hurt."

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

"That sword," the magus knitted his thick, ginger eyebrows. "It's infused with mithril, isn't it?"

"Well, aren't you the perceptive one?" Garreth angled his sabre, illuminating the swirling aureate patterns along the blade. "It's dwarf-make. Those industrious little fellas aren't huge on the arcane arts. This darling was forged to disrupt the conductivity of all it touches."

"An anti-magus weapon..."

"So, will you come quietly or face summary execution? The choice is yours."

Edmund pressed his palm against the wound between his ear and forehead. With a mere fraction of his mana left over and half of his allies out of the picture, continuing to resist would be futile. Slackening his grip on the silvery rod, he softened his glower; the hopeless reality set in. Yet, as his staff was about to slip from his fingers, someone yelled at him from the rear of the factory.

"Don't you dare surrender, you damned coward!" a figure popped up from behind a smelter.

Edmund didn't even have to turn around. He'd recognised that hoarse voice anywhere. "Kaz..."

As the injured masked magus shuffled out from the corner, he leaned on his wooden staff, using it as a cane. "What happened to all that bravado earlier today? I thought I was following a revolutionary. Not some spineless boy."

"Y-you shouldn't move too much, Kaz!" Naomi urged him. "The mithril bullet's still in you..."

"So that's what that was..." Kaz chuckled weakly. "Wondered what the icy feeling in my chest was. Feels like it's coursing through my veins. Well, I knew I was a goner anyway. Accepting this mission was suicide, after all."

"You'll live, Kaz! We can save you! Once we get you to a surgeon, you'll—"

"Quit deluding yourself, Nams. Open your eyes. This place is about to go off, and the cossies have us cornered. You think they'll let me anywhere near a hospital if we yield?"

With a lump in her throat, the girl's gaze faltered. "You're... just going to give up like that?"

"Give up? Far from it," Kaz slumped against the side of the blast furnace and lined his stave up with the Bureau agents. "Eddie, you hear? We resolved to fight till the end, remember? So pick yourself up and do your part as our leader. We die here today; we live on as martyrs."

Edmund allowed Kaz's words to sink in and renewed his grasp on his silvery staff.

Understanding they wouldn't go down without a fight, Garreth groaned. "They never make it easy..."

"Talamh stailinn!" The two magi incanted in unison, swaying their staffs and drawing chunks of iron ore from nearby crates.

Hundreds of sharpened pellets were shaped instantaneously, and the barrage was sent hurtling toward the Bureau agents. Projectiles ricocheted off the pipes and smelters, yet as Lynn ducked for cover, Garreth charged headlong at the salvo. He weaved through the volley of crude bullets in a blur, limber body threading past them at a breakneck speed. His fluid yet precise movements were akin to flowing water down a craggy brook.

As Garreth closed the distance between them, Edmund grew nervous. Redirecting his sights to the active smelter beside him, he mustered the power to tear the installation from the floor.

"T-talamh stailinn!" Edmund raised his rod and pushed his capabilities to the limit; he uprooted the machine through sheer will, ripping it from its hinges and lifting it off the cracked concrete. Using the last of his dwindling mana reserves, the magus launched the levitating vessel at Garreth. Splotches of molten slag dribbled out as the smelter plummeted. With nowhere else to run, Garreth stood fast and extended his right shoulder forward, bracing for impact.

The ensuing blast blew a hole through the side of the steelworks, and everything rearward was engulfed in an azure blaze. Alarmed by the ear-splitting boom, Henning, his officers, and the crowd behind him goggled at the steel mill from afar, yet none dared to enter. Edmund gasped for air as his muscles relaxed, a beet-red complexion accompanying his strained breathing; his legs gave out. He stared at the destruction ahead, his emerald irises reflecting the blue flames.

"Is... is it over?"

Kaz tittered in disbelief. "W... we did it. We went toe-to-toe with the Bureau and won. H-holy shit, Eddie... we actually pulled it off!"

Convinced that the worst of it was over, the magi's lips curved into a smirk. As the smoke dissipated, however, their smiles went as quickly as they came. A wavy silhouette emerged from the depths of the inferno. The Bureau agent had miraculously survived untouched, save for his right sleeve, the entire length of his scarred, muscular limb exposed to the elements. He stepped out of the conflagration and brushed the fire aside, casually winding his sword arm.

"That's... impossible..." Kaz mumbled.

"You know what pisses me off?" Garreth cracked his neck, striding toward the white-faced magi. "Henning was right. Brass really does spare no expense when it comes to our department."

"H-how the fuck are you still alive?!"

The Bureau agent sighed and flexed his left arm, showing off the scarlet runes inscribed into his remaining sleeve. "The flashy coats aren't just for looks. Seeing as my arm took the full brunt of the explosion and hasn't been decimated, I'd say it's doing a good job at keeping me alive."

Edmund stared at the ground. "Can't you let us go?"

"No can do. You've already made this a bigger incident than needed. Someone will need to answer for the crimes committed today."

"Then... what if I alone answered for them? In return, please... let my cohorts walk free."

Kaz sunk to his knees. "Eddie, what are you—?"

"Pipe down, Kaz. Let me do this. It's the least I can do as your leader."

Unmoved by the magus' selfless show of camaraderie, Garreth brandished his blade. "Now, that's touching and all, but you're in no position to bargain. Give one good reason why I shouldn't drag all of you bluebloods to Tartarus."

"C... consider this," Edmund struggled to keep himself up. "This place is on the fast track to becoming a pile of ash, and our magicks are pushing it beyond the tipping point."

"Glad we agree on something."

"What I'm saying is, lay a finger on any one of them; I'll use all I have left to set this place off."

The Bureau agent stopped in his tracks. "You mean to tell me you'd rather eviscerate us all, including your dear friends, than collectively pay for your crimes? I find that hard to believe."

"We know what happens to magi in Tartarus... it's no secret. Tongues ripped out, bodies dissected. I'd never resign them to such a fate. If the only alternative is death, so be it."

"You're bluffing."

"Try me," Edmund smouldered, eyes flaring with cast-iron resolve.

It was a look Garreth was all too familiar with. He was staring down a ticking timebomb, an agitated blueblood. Decades of facing unruly magi had taught him when to back down from a fight, and this was one such instance. "Fine, I fold," Garreth begrudgingly glid his weapon into its scabbard. "Under better circumstances, I'd have cut you down where you stand, but it appears the odds were stacked against my favour this time around. Rookie, you there?"

Her coattail caught alight, a panicky Lynn bumbled out from under a workbench and vigorously patted out the azure flame with her one good hand. "Y... yeah?"

"Fight's over. Leave the magi be and free the hostages."

"G-got it, sir!"

The girl brought out her pocket knife and snapped the blade out from under its handle. Jogging past Naomi and Sif, she cast a glance at them before cutting the hostages' bindings off one by one, starting with the children. The heavy clang of Edmund's staff hitting the floor signalled the magus' complete submission; a tuft of orange obscured his dismay, the face of a dead man walking. And the young boy, whom he had beaten feebly, sat upright.

Though the fire burned ever so brightly around them, the fire within the hearts of those involved was no more than embers at this stage.

Or so it seemed.

Approaching Edmund with a pair of cuffs in hand, Garreth noticed a discrepancy in the zone's current.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" the red-headed magus offered his wrists. "Let's get this over with—"

The Bureau agent leapt aside as a spike thrust out at him. Eyes bulging in shock, Edmund opened his mouth, only for blood to pour out in lieu of a groan. His legs dangled inches off the ground, his body held aloft by the unstable steel protrusion. And the glistening lance retracted, leaving a gaping hole through Edmund's abdomen and releasing his limp form; in a sharp splat, he fell face-first onto a pool of his own gore.

The battered child beside him let out a shriek, alerting everyone.