Sarah was not having a good time.

The rush of a near death escape burned through her like bad gin – fast, intoxicating, and leaving a sting in its wake. The relief she felt had been ripped away by the hard, punctuated bark of gunfire from the club. Death moved in from both at the top of the staircase, a shoot out; at the bottom the waiting maw of the essence beast.

‘It would seem,’ the thought surfaced, ‘that the universe wants to kill me.’

And in that moment, she fully believed it. The logic was sound. Maybe she should just switch out. Call it a mission, and retreat to being an observer yet again. Or she could walk back downstairs, hide from The Jackal on the blood stained floor and wait, the universe would get bored and move on.

But she didn’t.

‘Why don’t we just leave?’ she sent the thought to the collective.

‘We can’t,’ Oaklen replied, steady as always. ‘We need to get Viracio out, only then can–

‘No. We don’t.’

Her anger surged, a tide she wouldn’t hold back. Oaklen was always like this – always the plan, the mission, the obligation. We have to do this. We have to do that. We need the Church’s protection, so suffer in silence. No choice. Never a choice.

And Thryssa? Thryssa bought into it. Hook line and sinker. Old hag.

‘We’re Brinn. We leave and no one finds us.’

‘Sarah, I get it,’ Oaklen sent, measured, like he always was. ‘But they know us. Not just our names and faces, but many of you were designed by them.’

‘That’s not the point, Oaklen!’ Her fists clenched, nails biting into skin. ‘I’ve watched you throw us into mess after mess after m-’

The basement doors flew off their hinges.

Victor’s presence brushed against hers. Warm, smooth, like a blanket. ‘Safety first. All you.”

She nodded, and cut the connection to everyone.

A cursed, cracking laugh echoed through the room before The Jackal’s elongated neck slithered through the door, jaws chittering in anticipation. The creature was too large to fit, but that didn’t stop it from trying. Muscles tensed, limbs coiled, its massive body strained against the doorway as if sheer will would give the beast its meal, but the door held.

She didn’t sigh in relief. The universe wanted them dead, it had more tricks.

Sarah watched, heartbeat hammering. Frustration bled into a deep rattling growl as The Jackal was unable to get through the threshold. A howl built in its throat.

She rushed toward Viracio, before it could let the deadly sound loose, driving her fist into his chest. The action was urgent and imprecise as essence surged through her hand and into his skin. Her gaze met The Jackal’s just as not so distance gunfire erupted once more.

Viracio paled, as the monster let out a deafening howl. The wave of energy rattling his entire body as the essence defused the forces just enough. He didn’t speak, understanding her intentions.

Through the commotion, carrying on the wind, she heard a commanding voice from far off. “The hell was that? Shit – Rick, Dadum you’re over there. Go check it out”

“Uhh boss. Did we have wolves down there?” one of the voices called back.

Sarah closed her eyes, reaching out. A flickering, unseen presence pulsed forward to grant her vision. The corridor was long, but it was only a passageway, making it simple to move to the other room. Shifting her vision she saw two men crouched by an open door, piled in the corner were the bodies of two dead guards, gun shot wounds to the head. She remembered their faces, they were the same ones that stopped Callum from leaving the basement.

One peaked out, a heavy tommy gun raised, spraying bullets through the doorway and out the shattered windows. The other man, carrying a simple revolver, took the covering fire to reach out and shut the door. With a breath of a momentary release the pair turned towards the staircase that led to the basement. She cursed. Rock and a hard place.

Then, right on time with a flicker from the sensor, Callum dropped back into existence." Of course he did–they made a plan.

He dropped four feet straight down, landing with a startled thump. His eyes met the tommy gunner’s. One second.

Callum blinked out.

Tw-

The gun roared.

Callum wasn’t fast enough. The first bullet caught his shoulder, then he was gone.

Muzzle flashes strobed the stairs in violent bursts, illuminating the frozen, wide-eyed man with the revolver, followed by the three figures pressed into the stairwell that he was staring at. And beyond them the beast.

She wasn’t sure if what had just happened was bad luck or good windfall, but she did know that the revolver man, she guessed Dadum, froze, processing the information in front of him.

To his credit, he recovered quickly “MORE!” The man bellowed, “Switch!” he directed the man with the Tommy gun as he scanned the room for the teleporting man.

Fuck, she wasn’t a combatant. The machine gun would tear her apart. What could she–

Bellamy moved.

Sarah felt it – the rush of essence, the sudden pull in the air. A shift, like space folding in on itself. But she saw nothing. No ripple. No warning. Bellamy was next to her one moment, and the next he was at the top of the staircase. The movement was too seamless, too fast – it felt oddly similar to Callum’s ability. Strange. Bloodline didn’t determine ability type.

She didn’t question it. She had time for that later, she went to follow him, until Viracio’s hand tightened on her wrist. His face pale as he stared still down the stairs.

The Jackal hadn’t moved a muscle. Teeth gleamed in the dim light, its mouth just barely agape– waiting.

If she had let go it would’ve howled and Viracio would be red on the wall.

She hated it, but all she could do was trust that Bellamy could handle the two men upstairs. So she held her breath and watched through her ability.

Bellamy, she quickly realized, was a monster. She knew he was a talented fighter, but this?

She watched him step through air, body flickering into a new position as if space itself folded for him. He moved with impossible precision. His elbow snapped backward before he was even behind the man with the tommy gun – Rick she believed – as the blow struck the back of his neck with crushing force.

The machine gun tumbled from the man’s hands as he staggered, grasping out at empty air as it clattered to the ground.

“Four hostiles! They got essence!” Dadum bellowed, voice raw with urgency.

Dadum lunged for the fallen weapon, snatching it up as Rick dove to the side. A fresh hail of bullets erupted. Bellamy coated himself with essence, the bullets deforming against his second skin, but with each impact they got further and further through. He made a decision and concentrated essence around his vitals. Blood sprayed as rounds ripped through his limbs. Muscles tore, bones cracked and bullets caught, but Bellamy didn’t fall. Didn’t flinch. Didn’t even break stride.

A monster.

There was a commotion on the other side of the door, as heavy foot falls got closer and closer.

Click. Click. Empty.

Rick yanked a fresh magazine from his bag, moving to help Dadum reload.

Bellamy glanced from Rick to the door, jaw tightening. He teleported to the chandelier, standing on top of it. With a heave he pushed it from the ceiling where it landed with a crash as porcelain broke. He had attempted to aim it so that it would hit the men, but it came up short as they backed up to the room's edge, far from both the staircase and door.

As the chandelier crashed the noise drew The Jackals attention. Sarah spared a glance behind her to see it twitched. The doorway cracked just a little more as the monster continued trying to squeeze through.

With another heave he grabbed the chandelier with strength that could’ve killed a man in one punch, but was suspiciously absent from the blows he landed. Bellamy spun the chandelier. Once. Twice. Then hurled it. It crashed into the doorframe, jamming in the wall and sticking.

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He didn’t have time to admire his handy work as another hail of bullets impacted him. This time the waves were more like pulses. Short precise shots that were aimed rather than sprayed. It seemed the man's favorite spot was Bellamy’s left leg, only occasionally sending a stray bullet at his head or chest, forcing Bellamy to keep essence focused on shielding his vitals. The panic was gone from the two now.

Individuals from outside slammed on the door, but the barricade held and a hail of gun shots sent the men at the door scrambling away. The two men inside the room cursed, but kept firing.

Bellamy began moving again – always moving. He closed the distance easily enough, but every time he flickered forward, dodging the machine gun, the revolver-wielding man was there, already adjusting, already firing.

The Volkov enforcers weren’t amateurs. They were trained. Disciplined. They fought with precision the moment they got their panic under control. They weren’t just hoping for the best. They were fighting an essence wielder with practiced efficiency and holding their own.

But eventually, they’d run out of bullets.

Or Bellamy would run out of essence.

It was a battle of attrition now.

Harbingers were powerful, but they were still human. Unless someone had an absurd amount of essence – or could replenish it faster than they used it – they would tire. Essence granted overwhelming power in close combat, but against firearms? Against trained soldiers who knew how to counter them? The battlefield was far more even.

She didn’t know how much essence Bellamy had left, and she wasn’t about to take chances. The feeling of helplessness from before pushed her to action as she came up with a plan to weigh the scales. It was one on two, but it didn’t have to be.

She just hoped Callum still trusted her after her last mistake.

Peering through her ability, she focused a cluster of five eyes into existence right in front of Dadum’s face, this time visible. They swiveled wild,y darting in every direction which resulted in a sickening disorienting blur of motion for both herself and the man holding the machine gun. He flinched, recoiling from the sudden invasion. It was only a second, but a second was enough.

She dismissed the eyes, forming another seven into an arrow, then an extra to mark where she needed Callum.

The gunfire faltered.

Bellamy seized the moment. He was in front of the dazed gunman in an instant, grabbing the still smoking muzzle of the tommy gun. The metal sizzled against his palm, burning flesh.

Rick moved to cover, swinging the revolver towards Bellamy’s head, and at the same moment Callum apparated to Rick’s side.

“Damn.” Callum grimaced, “Unlucky”

Both brothers moved. Their fist snapped forward in perfect uniform. The impacts cracked like gunfire, echoing down the staircase as each man received a haymaker to the chin. The impact spiked both men straight into the ground, bodies crumpling with a dull thud.

Bellamy exhaled. Callum cheered. As they basked in their brief moment of triumph.

----------------------------------------

Bellamy slumped against the far wall with his focus pointed inwards to the scaffolding which housed his essence. It coursed through his veins as he traced its path, expelling the bullet casings onto the floor with a soft clatter. Flesh knit together in their wake. His wounds were still mending as he rose to his feet – his muscles ignoring his brain's commands.

The four of them huddled in the ruined room. The chandelier Bellamy had stuck into the wall holding well as an impromptu barricade to the ongoing fire fight. No one glanced down the stairwell, but the clawing and scratching below told them all they needed to know about The Jackal. It wasn’t trying to break free, too quiet for that, but it wasn’t staying still either. Occasionally, it would let out one of its horrid laughing fits, as if reminding them it was there.

“The police will be here any second” Viracio muttered, finally finding his voice.

It was the first time he had spoken since escaping the pit. He hunched near Bellamy, knuckles white, his breathing shallow. He didn’t blame the man for his reaction, he had no doubt that Viracio had seen plenty of men fight, skill and scrape their way through life without flincing, but there was a difference between that and having annihilation with a breath. The Jackal wasn’t an enemy you could intimidate, fight, or bargain with if you were a normal man, it was more like being at the epicenter of a natural disaster.

“And after them, The Wardens," Sarah added.

Bellamy’s eyes flicked toward her. He had been reassessing the performer ever since they made it upstairs – she wasn’t a fighter – that much was obvious, and while she had panicked it hadn’t stopped her from acting. Her quick thinking had saved Viracio’s life and let them dispatch the enforcers cleanly. Every Harbinger had a story to tell. And they always lied when telling it.

He kept her and Viracio in sight at all times. While he was wary of Sarah, he was fully suspicious of Viracio at this point. The whistelning had to come from somewhere, maybe one of the fighters in the locker room had done it, or maybe there had been other survivors down there, but even so he was the main suspect.

Bellamy rolled his right shoulder, considering their options. “We need to make a break for it before The Wardens arrive. We can get away from the police, but as soon as The Wardens get word of us having essence. Let’s just say I don’t fancy our chances.” He looked over to Sarah, “Are there any exits that could lead us to nearby alleys or good cover?”

Sarah hesitated, blinking, thrown off by the question “I uh, I only just started today. I’m traveling to the Atrean Islets, needed some extra cash and I have a friend in town, figured this would be an easy job.”

Bullshit.

Bellamy could feel the lie in the air, but now wasn’t the time to push.

There was a time and place, and in mortal peril was not either, so he instead turned to their prisoners.

The guards they had incapacitated had long since stirred to find their arms and legs bound with their own clothing. They barely resisted as Callum tied them up – still dazed from the blow from earlier. It was a relief that they hadn’t gone unconscious for too long, knockouts didn’t typically last that long, and if they did permanent brain damage was on the table.

Callum crouched next to the two body guards, watching them. Dadum, Sarah had called the scrawnier one, seemed to become fully lucid first. Enough to spit in Callum's direction.

“Just so you know,” Callum started, too casually, “we don’t actually know what the hell’s going on. We were just trying to gamble. Turns out when an essence beast can kill anyone without essence, people who can use essence are the only ones left to leave.”

Dadum didn’t respond, continuing to scowl, but his partner, Rick took the bait.

“If you were out for us, we’d be dead already. The guys outside weren’t pulling punches, so I doubt you’re with them. They had some plants inside the club.” He gestured with his head to the two dead bodies by the stairs “they were vicious fuckers. Haven’t tried to push in since though”

Callum shook his head, “honestly. I didn’t even realize there were people outside attacking until after our little scrap was over. You kind of opened fire right away”.

Silence met the room, Callum waited for a response, but when none was had he continued.

“Look, we don’t want to get wrapped in this, we just need the rest of the Volkov’s to not shoot at us as we leave, and to know the situation. We’ll even take out a few on the way”

Dadum’s eyes squinted, narrowing in suspicion before sighing.

“All I know is that we’re surrounded. They’ve got the entire street locked down, street level, rooftops, probably even the sewers. We heard over the radio that similar attacks were happening around town. Last we saw it looked like they were preparing for something, lots of movement, lots of noise. They haven’t tried to push in yet since”.

Bellamy grimaced. Too convenient. One shootout was bad luck. Coordinated attacks across town? That reeked of something else. But it wasn’t all bad news apparently. They could hide out in the room, and once the gang outside began their assault he could open a hole in the wall and they could make a break for it.

The Volkov enforcers were stalling until the cops could arrive on scene, afterall they were in the families pocket, half of the work the police did was actually handed off to the Volkov’s. Helped the police stay away from more of the unsavory work and kept them at a distance from the messier work.

So the attackers outside needed to push in before the cops came, the Volkovs needed to stall until then, and Bellamy and his group needed to leave before The Wardens arrived, preferably before the cops. Meaning their main obstacle wasn’t the Volkovs, but the unknown group attacking Penny’s

The only issue is if the Volkov’s decided to try to take them before the final assault began, it wouldn't be good to have an unknown party at their back in an already tenuous firefight. They could just leave them alone, but he wouldn’t if he were in their shoes.

Viracio must have been thinking along the same lines because he began to motion to Dadum, “Let’s cut this one loose. Have him talk to his boss outside. Let him know we’re not a threat, update him on The Jackal in the basement. Come to a truce. Gives us an easier exit.”

Bellamy exhaled, he had the pieces but not a plan, and he couldn’t come up with something better, so we just nodded. He didn’t like that they would be giving up half of their leverage to communicate and find their captain, if they could find him and talk to him directly… Most Volkov captains had essence, a well known secret kept hush hush from The Wardens.

“Sounds good,” he said as he looked at his brother “But we may be able to keep them here. Callum, their captain should have essence. Can you tell me where he is?

Callum vanished, for three seconds before coming back into view, pointing to a wall, “room to our left. Either he’s far into the room, or the wall is thick”

Bellamy walked to the wall, crouched low and pressed his palm flat against the wall. The essence in his body molded, as he pushed his scaffolding out from himself, into the wall and through it, before removing it entirely, leaving a perfectly square hole to the other room.

“What’s your captain's name?” Bellamy turned to Rick who responded with the name of Tayfun Rayan.

He called through the newly made hole, coating himself in essence just in case any of the gangsters on the other side decided that talking was beneath them. He signaled Callum over to do the negotiating, Callum was a scalpel, Bellamy thought of himself more as a sledgehammer. Both tools required precision, but accomplished very different tasks.

“We want to talk,” Callum started, listening closely to the shifting behind the wall, “There’s been a misunderstanding.”

Footsteps traveled through the opening, slow and deliberate. A scratchy voice – low from a lifetime of a carton of cigarettes with every meal replied “And what” the man on the other side paused for another drag, “would that misunderstanding be?”

“We have your men, Rick and Dadum. They’re alive. We were just gambling, like everyone else. A monster appeared during one of the fights – that’s what that howl was from earlier.”

Silence. Long enough for Bellamy to tense his muscles and prepare for another fight. Long enough for Callum to frown and motion for the others to get down.

“And?” The voice returned, disintered as he took another drag. “Find that hard to believe. Just some gamblers with essence turn up at the same time as an essence beast? Only survivors in fact. And meanwhile, the guys outside aren’t putting up much of a fight. They’re pissing their pants, too scared to do anything but fire when we peak our heads out”

Callum cringed, it certainly didn’t look good when you put it like that.

“The beast has an ability, it doesn’t work on you if you coat yourself in essence. Only reason we’re alive and everyone else isn’t”

“And Penny?” the man finally asked. Callum shot a glance at Bellamy who shook his head.

“She didn’t make it.”

Another pause. More whispering. “Stinks to high hell” the Volkov finally spoke. We got word the rat went down there too. He alive?”

Callum’s eyes landed on Viracio this time, as he hesitated, “No. They were both in the private booth when The Jackal broke through”.

Before their prisoners could call out Bellamy stepped away from the wall, staring each of them in the eyes, holding up a finger to his lips. They scowled, but nodded.

“Alright. So what do you want?”

It wasn’t much, but it was a start, “Just a promise that you won’t shoot us. We just want to exit this unlucky situation. No need for either of us to get in the other’s way.”

Another pause. No whispers. Finally the man on the other side gave a slow drawn out sigh.

“Alright. Let rick and Dadum go, and you have a deal.”

Callum didn’t bite. “Pick one. We’ll need the other for insurance.”

“Fair,” the man said, "too quick, too easy. As if he had expected that response. “Send Dadum over then, but I want their guns. We need every bullet we can get. The fuckers outside have been quiet, but last we say they were preparing something”

Bellamy felt it immediately. It was a creeping wrongness across his spine in the way the man spoke, the conversation had gone too smoothly. Was this Tayfun man the type to care about the life of one subordinate? Unlikely. But guns? He’d care about those.

Callum must’ve felt it too because his fingers twitched. He didn’t respond right away. Bellamy could see the hesitation in his brother’s stance, the way his fingers drummed against his thigh. He was running calculations in his head, thinking as silence stretched out between the two rooms.

“That’s a lot you’re asking for,” doing his best to keep a casual tone. “One hostage and all their guns? For what? You doing nothing? Not exactly an even trade.”

Tayfun chuckled, “Pretty even if you ask me. You’re holed up, outnumbered. Borrowed time might as well be written cross your forehead.”

“How about this,” Callum shifted tactics, “we send Dadum over, you keep your people, you agree to share some information with us, then we’ll talk about guns and safety"

The Volkov captain hummed, “You only got until the men outside come knocking to negotiate. You sure you want to spend that time playing games”

“Are you” Callum asked back, “Here’s the problem Volkov, you don’t give a shit about these men, if anything you care more about the money they’ll cost you to reimburse their families. No one wants unnecessary bloodshed. So let’s cut the bullshit. One hostage, no guns. You don’t try anything with us and we’ll stay clear of you and your men”

More silence, but Callum didn’t let it go on. “Or you try to screw us and we put bullets in both their heads, keep the guns, blockade the door, and take our chances with the police. Hell the beast below could break out then we’d all be fucked.”

The man on the other side sighed. “Fine. Send Dadum over, and his pistol. No Tommy gun”.

Bellamy didn’t rust it. But at least now they had some assurances. The police were in the pocket of the Volkov family, sure, but not all of them. They couldn’t get executed tonight without issue, especially not with an essence beast in the basement.

They untied Dadum, who gave Rick and apologetic look. They gave him his revolver back and Bellamy leaned in close, “I’m not one for killing, but I can’t speak for the others. One word about Viracio still being alive and Rick likely doesn’t walk out of here.”

Dadum spit in his face, snarled, but ultimately nodded and left with a thin coat of essence to join the other Volkov enforcers.

Several minutes passed with nothing happening. No gunfire, no yells or shouts, and soon enough they figured out why.

Apparently they had been under a misunderstanding. The gang outside was in on this from the beginning. They somehow knew that the champion of the pit had essence. It’s why the guards down there were prepared to lock the doors when things got rough. They died before they could communicate anything to the rest of their group outside, but the howl of The Jackal confirmed for them that the champion had turned essence beast. They were never going to do an all out assault. They were just stalling for time. There was an essence beast in a club jointly owned by the Volkov and Devereaux family, once that was confirmed, they could report the incident, but not to the police. No. The families of Velnias had their hooks too deep for anything useful to come from that.

The Wardens had come instead.