Time snapped back into its natural rhythm, and suddenly, everything happened at once. There was no room for hesitation.

Lucas, his revolver freshly loaded, fired shot after shot as he ran by the monster, each golden bullet finding its mark in the creature's grotesque form. The bullets seared at it’s rotting flesh. Jean, despite his exhaustion, aimed with his gun from afar and fired precise rounds, hitting the monster's vulnerable spots causing it to weaken and slow down it’s movements.

Fleur, with her incredible speed, darted around the creature, her figure a blur as she delivered powerful blows that sent shockwaves through its flesh. I could hardly see the attacks she was making. Mar stood at a distance and focused her energy on providing support to Fleur. She was shouting out warnings to Fleur, letting her know of the monster's attacks and precise movements right before it would even make them.

Then there was Jo who stood back with both Darius and I. Jo had her eyes closed with a concentrated demeanour.

As chaos unfolded around me, I found myself at a loss. Darius, still dazed from the effects of the Shattered Sight artifact, needed time to regain his energy before he could assist. The others were engaged in a fierce battle with the monstrous creature, their attacks both precise and brutal.

I knew my abilities didn't lend themselves well to combat. Fracture, my unique power. It was a skill that had proven invaluable in investigative work and problem-solving, but it held no actual combat capabilities.

Looking back up at the chaos that was ensuing, the monster was fiercely swiping its talons at Fleur as she darted and danced around, leaving blurs of her figure as she passed by. As each bullet from both Lucas and Jean hit it, it would corrode it’s skin and the monster would be stunned for a brief moment, allowing Fleur to make another powerful blow to it’s heavy frame.

I glanced down at my revolver, but I couldn't bring myself to waste precious ammunition when my teammates were already dealing with the threat. It was a tense and frantic scene, every second ticking by as the battle raged on. What could I possibly do to help?

Amidst the chaos, I realised that my unique ability might have a role to play, albeit indirectly. Much like what Jo seemed to be doing. I needed to gather information, to understand what had transpired in the theatre moments before our arrival.

Without wasting another second, I crouched down and pressed my hand to the grimy, decaying floor of the theatre. It was a deliberate gesture, an attempt to anchor myself in the present while I reached into the near past.

Closing my eyes, I focused all my mental energy on that single task. I envisioned the theatre as it had been just moments before, a place cloaked in shadows and eerie silence.

As I concentrated, I felt the familiar sensation of my ability taking hold. Illusory fractures and webs danced before my open eyes, like the threads of an ethereal tapestry.

My heart pounded in my chest as the fragments formed a single, still image of the recent past. The scene that unfolded before me was like a nightmare etched in stark, horrifying detail.

The monster, a grotesque abomination, stood before me. Yet it was not in its current form. It was almost human-like, a nightmarish semblance of humanity twisted by some vile force. Its skin was still mottled and pallid, much like the creature in the current battle, and its eyes were again, hollow and soulless black voids.

The creature was hunched over in the middle of the theatre, its form contorted in agony as if undergoing a grotesque transformation of suffering and agony.

It was a vision of a tortured soul, a creature caught in the throes of a horrific metamorphosis. I couldn't tear my eyes away from the sight, even as the battle continued to rage around me.

But there was something else in the scene, something that sent a chill down my spine. In the background, partially obscured by shadows, I could make out a figure. It was too distorted to discern any details, but its presence was undeniable. It seemed to be watching, observing the transformation with a sinister interest.

Could that be who we were going up against or was it the monster before us?

"Eli!"

Darius was kneeling down in front of me, while I was on my knees. The fragments of the past dissipated and I was thrust back to the present reality.

"Elias. You look like you've seen a ghost heh. Are you ok?"

I looked over to where the monster was lying, finally lifeless and unmoving.

"Boss, that creature..."

I turned my gaze back to the monstrous heap of decay that had once been a living being. My teammates surrounded it, their faces a mixture of relief and disbelief as they stared down at the grotesque remains. The stench of death hung heavy in the air, a grim reminder of the battle we had just endured.

"Could that creature have been human?" I asked, my half-shaken voice barely more than a whisper.

Darius let out a heavy sigh, his eyes fixed on the abomination.

Before he could say anything, a voice from behind us interjected. "Yes," Jo said, her voice steady and resolute.

Both Darius and I turned to look at her, curiosity and concern in my eyes.

Jo continued, her gaze never leaving the grotesque form on the ground. "That... thing. It could've even been human just moments before we arrived. A Lamentor."

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With those words, she walked past us towards the remains of the Lamentor, her expression one of grim determination. It was clear that she intended to investigate the creature further, to uncover whatever dark secrets it held.

Jo's words confirmed my fractured scene. Once a human, they had metamorphosed into the abomination in front of us.

Darius and I exchanged a sombre glance, the weight of our encounter settling over us. We had faced not only a monster but the horrifying truth that it had once been human.

Clearing his throat, his gaze shifting between Jo and I. "Elias," he began, his voice measured and melancholic, "what you've just witnessed... it's not an easy thing to talk about."

I nodded slowly, my mind still reeling from the revelation. "Lamentors," I muttered, the word heavy on my tongue.

Darius took a deep breath as if bracing himself for what he was about to say. "I've told you before that when people become Arcanists, they lose a part of their humanity. But there's more to it, Elias. Much more."

Darius hesitated, his gaze turning distant as if he were recalling painful memories. "When Arcanists can't handle the abilities they're given and don't have enough spirit to keep them under control, they can... they lose even more of their humanity."

While listening to the hard words Darius was telling me, I glanced over to Jo who was now crouched beside the grotesque remains of the Lamentor, carefully examining something she had found.

Darius's voice was low and solemn as he continued, "They can go insane, Elias. Completely and irreversibly. They become... Lamentors."

I watched Jo retrieve an object from the Lamentor's remains. It looked like a crystal, but its colour was a sickly grey, resembling the hue of a decaying brain. The shape was that of a half-closed fist.

"You don't have to worry, low-tier Arcanists like you have a relatively low chance of going insane… He paused, his gaze shifting towards Jo, who was now holding up the strange crystal-like object. "But…"

"But what?" I pressed, my unease growing.

Darius' face turned from sorrow to concern as he saw what Jo was holding. "There's always the rare chance, Elias. The chance that even a low-tier Arcanist can plunge into madness."

Darius pushed himself to his feet and walked over to Jo, his eyes fixated on the strange crystal she held. Jo handed it to him with a mixture of curiosity and trepidation. He studied the object for a moment, turning it over in his hand as if searching it for answers.

Finally, after a moment of silence, he looked up at the team, his expression troubled. "This changes things," he said, his voice heavy with concern. "This Lamentor wasn't just a result of a low-tier Arcanist losing control. Someone or something forced this transformation, deliberately.”

My mind raced as I considered the implications of his words. The figure I had seen in my fracture, the one that seemed to be controlling the Lamentor, it couldn't have been a mere hallucination. My fracture had been real, and it aligned with the other fractures I had experienced in the past, particularly the shadowy figure on the stage.

I knew of the possibility that my fractures could be tampered with or completely wrong, but all of this was beginning to fit into place, happening right in front of my eyes. It was real.

Jean was the first to voice his thoughts. "If someone could do this intentionally, turn a person into such a creature, then the question is why? What's the purpose behind it?"

"Perhaps it's a form of experimentation,” Lucas replied, crossing his arms. “Could they be testing the limits of an Arcanist’s spirit?"

"Or it could just be revenge,” Jo added.

I couldn't help but feel a chill run down my spine as I considered the possibilities. The thought that someone out there possessed the knowledge and power to turn a person into a Lamentor, deliberately stripping them of their humanity, was deeply unsettling.

“No no, this must have to do with whoever stole that artifact. That’s the reason we’re here after all. That third party could’ve used it on the innocent arcanist.”

Fleur, who had been thinking silently, suddenly spoke up. "I can't help but think of that missing person case from the other day," she mused, her voice contemplative yet certain of her thoughts. “Could they have kidnapped and experimented on them, pushing them over the edge of insanity through torture? It would explain them becoming a Lamentor and the stolen artifact. Oh and as well as the bodies we found the other day.”

Darius nodded, his expression grave. "It's a possibility we can't ignore. The connections between these incidents seem too strong to be mere coincidences."

While the team discussed theories and possibilities, my thoughts drifted back to my own fears. The concept of losing control of my powers and potentially turning into something like the Lamentor haunted me.

Darius's revelation about the Lamentors being Arcanists who had lost control and their humanity only deepened my dread. It was a reminder of the fine line we all walked as Arcanists, the delicate balance between power and madness.

As I wrestled with these thoughts, Jo suddenly spoke up, her voice cutting through the tension in the theatre. "Someone’s here with us."

The rest of us exchanged quick, alarmed glances. Slow, measured footsteps echoed through the darkness, emanating from behind the heavy red curtains on the stage. Our hearts raced as we turned our attention toward the source of the sound.

A figure emerged from the right side of the curtains, stepping into the dim light of the stage. The figure moved with a deliberate and almost theatrical grace as if they were performing just for us.

The newcomer walked to the centre of the stage, their silhouette partially obscured by the lingering shadows. They clapped their hands together slowly, the sound echoing through the theatre like an eerie applause.

The figure's voice, when they spoke, was calm and measured, carrying a disconcerting air of authority. "Bravo, my friends," they said, their words dripping with a chilling amusement. "You've uncovered quite the mystery, haven't you?"

As the figure moved further into the light, their features gradually became clearer. They wore an extravagant checkered suit that clashed with striped pants, a dark blue shirt, and a meticulously tied black tie. Their attire seemed like something out of a bygone era, adding to the eerie ambience of the theatre.

The most striking aspect of their appearance, however, was their face. Despite appearing to be in their late twenties, their hair was an odd contrast of heavy grey covering one eye while the rest remained a stark black. Stitches ran along either side of their mouth, forming a grotesque mockery of a smile and dark eye makeup accentuated their eyes, which were sharp and penetrating.

The figure's lips twisted into a cold, mocking grin as they chuckled. Continuing to survey our group with amusement.

Darius, ever composed and alert, stepped forward. "Who are you?" he demanded, his voice firm.

The figure's grin widened, their eyes gleaming with a sinister light. "Ah, introductions. How delightful." They took a theatrical bow. "I think you might know me. Haand, Fritz Haand."

My instincts kicked in, and without even realizing it, I had pulled my revolver from its holster and was holding it up towards the shadowy figure on the stage. The cold metal of the gun felt oddly reassuring in my trembling hand. As if I had done this before.