[Fin's POV - Elmer Academy]
I stood at the edge of the cellar entrance of the Academy, the one I'd used before when I first saw the machines and when I first saw the woman who claimed to be my sister. It didn't look like anyone had sealed it back up. Just the faint hum of something.
There was no resistance. No guards. No magical tripwires. No shouts in the dark.
Just a long tunnel and a bad feeling.
By the time I reached the room with that massive machine that made my heart sink, I could tell it'd been rebuilt; bigger and cleaner. Stone pillars had been reinforced, with new channels of steel running across the floor in a circular grid. The glow from the machine was darker, too.
Not just purple anymore. Gold now, too.
And the souls. Gods.
I could feel them the moment I stepped in.
Thousands of them.
Packed into the walls, the floor, the machine at the centre, all screaming, all pulsing in time with the hum of the glyphs. It felt like a crowd breathing down my neck. But not alive. Just noise. Endless, hollow, begging noise.
I focused.
Observation Haki spread out from me like a pulse, brushing the edges of the space.
It didn't help.
The noise just got louder. More distorted. Like someone dragging metal across my skull.
I wasn't sensing threats, I was sensing everything. The pressure of too many presences. Too many dead things pretending to be people. It was like staring through a broken lens.
I grimaced and pulled it back. Tried to filter. Find intent. Anger. Movement. Anything.
But it was all static.
And then I saw her, Helga looked like hell.
She hung in the purple cage above the machine, limbs limp, head down, her arm broken with the white bone sticking out. She was trapped in some kind of purple energy, which itself had steel wrapped around it like vines, the runes burned into the light.
I moved towards her, but I stopped.
Something about it didn't sit right. The way it was placed. The way the cage was built was like a monument, not a cell. It wasn't just some holding spot; it was a component of something.
So I held my position. Backed up a step. Slipped behind one of the thicker stone columns near the side, just out of direct line of sight.
That's when I heard them.
Voices.
Two of them. One calm. One... off.
"She was the easiest piece to bait," said the first voice. Colder. "But he'll be here soon. That's all that matters."
I shifted slightly, just enough to peer around the edge.
Two figures stood near a control panel by the machine, one at the terminal, hands moving around. The other just... lingering, swaying lightly on her heels like she was listening to music only she could hear.
The one with the dreamy smile, soft grey robes, long hair tied back behind a string of beads, that was Saelira. No question. She looked crazier than she had when I previously saw her, like something inside her had been hollowed out and filled with light that didn't belong.
The other woman…
I blinked.
It took me a second.
She wasn't dressed like a cultist. No robes. No flare. Just dark leathers, reinforced shoulders, and a cloak over one side. Her hands were scarred.
It was her.
The one who gave me the letter for Helga.
She hadn't told me her name, though, but she was here now, standing at the centre of the nightmare with the same calm expression.
And I didn't think for a second that was a coincidence.
"I've almost finished the alignments," she said without looking up. "Once he steps into the radius, the bracer will trigger, then I can activate the siphon from the panel. The triangulation should occur naturally. No extra force needed."
"You see?" Saelira twirled once, beaming. "It's perfect. Just like Father said. Her pain, his blood, and the core. We have all three."
Father. That word landed sharply.
Kael'ven.
I stayed still. Breathing quietly. They hadn't seen me yet.
Hopefully.
The woman adjusted another dial, then stepped back.
"And if something goes wrong?" Saelira asked lightly, like she didn't care about the answer.
"Then we lose everything and Kael'ven remains dead," the woman said.
"Hmm." Saelira tilted her head. "I suppose we'll just make sure nothing goes wrong, then."
"Stay focused."
"I am focused."
"You're vibrating."
"I'm just excited."
A pause.
"She's still alive, right?" Saelira asked. "We need her alive. That's part of it, right?"
"Unfortunately, yes," the woman said. "We needed her soul alive for the process, then I will do away with her."
"Right." Saelira smiled again, stepping toward Helga's cage and peering up like it was a statue in a gallery. "She looks so peaceful like that."
Helga didn't move.
They'd called her the bait. Called me the blood. Called the bracer the core, and I didn't need to step into the circle to know it would close the second I did.
And that meant I needed to figure out how to break it before that happened, but I needed a better look. So I slid behind another pillar, one closer to the edge of the dais. From here, I had a clear line of sight on both of them.
The calm one was still tuning the siphon. Her back was turned. Her hand hovered over a flat brass panel lined with glyphs. That had to be the trigger point.
Saelira stood near Helga's cage, murmuring to herself. Whispering little nothings to the machine like it was listening.
It wasn't a great position.
But it was enough.
I didn't have time for a speech. No witty line. No dramatic posturing.
Just one word.
"Dismantle."
Right at the random woman's head
She turned slightly at the last second, too slowly.
It clipped her right ear clean off.
She didn't scream.
She flinched. Blinked once. Raised her hand to her head.
Blood trickled between her fingers.
Saelira spun with a gasp. "Yorz—!"
"Stay focused," Yorz snapped "He's here."
So her name is Yoz? Meh, I didn't stop.
"Dismantle!"
I said, turning on Saelira.
The second cursed lash lashed out, searing across her stomach.
It hit.
She cried out, not in pain, just surprised. A thin cut opened across her robes. I pushed forward again, ready to follow up.
I raised the bracer and tried to form a dagger. Nothing happened.
The metal on my wrist stayed locked in place, humming, but it didn't shift. Didn't respond. Didn't even twitch.
"What—?"
I tried again, more forcefully this time, mentally snapping the command.
Still nothing.
The bracer was warm against my skin. Too warm. Like it was listening to someone else now.
No time to fix it.
Saelira was recovering, no, more than that. Her skin was sewn shut by threads of light that re-knit skin like it had never been touched.
What?
I blinked.
A second ago, I'd cut her stomach. Now?
Nothing. No scar. No blood. Just perfect, pale skin.
She looked up at me, dazed for half a second.
"Why… did that hurt?" she asked, like it was a personal offence.
I dashed forward again with cursed energy flaring across my knuckles now. If I couldn't use the bracer, I'd do it the old-fashioned way.
She raised a hand to cast, but I got inside her reach before it finished.
My fist collided with her ribs.
She staggered back, breath knocked out of her lungs.
A clean hit.
Another step, I slammed an elbow into her shoulder, then swept low, kicking her legs out.
She hit the floor with a heavy thud.
I moved, open palm glowing, another Dismantle ready to send out, but then my haki flared.
A flicker of murderous intent, not from Saelira, from the side.
I twisted just in time.
A ghostly hand swiped through the air where my face had been a heartbeat ago, razor-sharp claws of translucent energy extending from the wrist. Yorz.
Fucking mage hand.
I ducked under it, slid low, and was already turning toward her with a snarl when—
Boom.
Pain.
Saelira's blast caught me in the ribs mid-spin.
I had seen it coming, but my balance was off. I couldn't angle myself right in time.
The impact hit like a battering ram, all heat and pressure, slamming directly into my side and launching me backwards.
My body went weightless for a second.
Then I hit the floor.
Hard.
Stone cracked beneath me. My lungs seized, struggling to pull in air. The world blurred for a moment, sound going flat except for the high whine in my ears.
Damn it
I quickly but carefully got up again, even as my side screamed, ribs flaring with pain, I didn't have time to feel properly.
Saelira was already standing again. Hair is a mess. Face flushed. Yorz hadn't moved from the control station. One hand was holding her wound while the other was still extended from the Mage Hand she'd cast.
They weren't amateurs. I clenched my jaw and stood. Saelira wasn't supposed to be standing. Not after that hit. Not after two damn Dismantles and a punch to the ribs that could've cracked a spine.
But there she was. Smiling again.
Breathing steadily.
No bruises or even a limp
I glanced at her robes; they were different. While her body was unaffected, her clothes were affected by 'Dismanlte, they were cut while her body wasn't.
What the hell was that?
I tried not to let it show on my face, but my body ached. My cursed energy hadn't faded. My hits were clean. I know they landed. So why didn't they stick?
Dismantle had always torn through things. It didn't matter if it was a shield, a tree, or that fake Reina. I could cut it.
But this time?
Nothing.
Just a scratch that stitched itself up like it was embarrassed to exist.
That wasn't healing. That was something else.
I took a step back, flexing my fingers.
Was it the bracer?
I looked down, still wrapped 'round my forearm. Heavy. Warmer now, like it had a pulse.
I reached for it again mentally, trying to will it into dagger form.
Nothing.
Not even a twitch.
It was like trying to move a dead limb.
Okay. Fine. No bracer. Dismantles weren't working. I'd have to improvise.
I flicked my gaze between Saelira and the other one, Yorz, still standing by the machine's console, face unreadable even with blood trailing down her neck. She hadn't cast anything else since that mage hand, but her eyes never left me.
She was waiting. Watching. At least I could hurt her.
I forced my breathing to slow.
Rushing in again was suicide. Clearly, Saelira had some kind of reinforcement I didn't understand, and if that woman had a full spell list to throw at me once I got close, then I was basically signing up for round two of "get blasted across the room."
So, new plan.
Think.
Saelira wasn't fighting like a normal mage. She moved like she didn't care about pain, like she hadn't even registered it. It wasn't that she was healing fast; it was like the wounds didn't exist for her.
It could be soul magic.
I didn't understand how it worked, but I'd seen enough now to recognise its fingerprints.
The problem was, I didn't know how to fight that.
Okay.
Fine.
I couldn't target what I didn't understand, but maybe I didn't have to. Maybe I just needed to target her ability to move. Pin her. Disable her. Keep her away from the siphon long enough to, I don't know, figure out how to shatter the damn thing.
If I could get her between me and the woman at the console, even better.
I couldn't beat them both in a straight fight.
But I could maneuver.
I let my feet slide back into a lower stance, light, fast, like I was about to sprint. My cursed energy bubbled beneath my skin, not focused, just there, ready to burst on command.
Saelira tilted her head again, eyes gleaming.
"You're planning something," she said softly, almost sweetly.
I didn't respond.
She smiled wider.
"Father always said you'd be clever. He said you'd have to be given that you were his blood."
Behind her, the machine pulsed again.
So did the bracer.
I didn't know how long I had.
I set my eyes on a new target — not the heart, not the head. The knee.
Let's see her regenerate that.
Right. Target the knee.
I took the first step, then that same ghostly pressure returned. I ducked on instinct, haki flaring like a damn siren.
'Dismantle'
Saelira fell over, as I cut her knees.
A spectral hand screamed down from above, slicing through the air where my throat had been half a breath ago. Yorz's magic again.
Persistent.
I vanished.
Flash stepped behind one of the massive stone pillars near the edge. My boots skidded across the ground, cracked dust clouding up from the sudden movement. The impact from her magic hand scraped across the stone behind me, but missed. Just barely.
No time.
I held my palm out and snarled the word through clenched teeth.
"Igni."
A torrent of flame erupted from my hand, not a gentle blast, not a burst, a full wave.
It roared across the dais, catching both of them in the heat before they could adjust.
Saelira, whose knees were repaired, shrieked, not from pain, but from surprise. Her form shimmered in the light as the fire curled around her, wreathing the steel platform and the base of the machine. Yorz shielded her face and staggered back from the console. Her coat smouldered.
It wasn't enough to kill them. Not by a long shot.
But it bought me a second.
I turned and looked up.
The pillar behind me. Deep stress marks along the base. I flicked my hand towards its side.
'Dismantle'
The cursed script snapped into the stone with a sizzle.
Saelira didn't even look up.
She'd just started to recover, hand reaching toward me, firelight dancing in her wide eyes, when the pillar shattered.
Stone cracked. Gravity did the rest.
It collapsed in on her with a deafening crash.
I watched her vanish in the debris. The entire chunk of the ceiling came down with it, smoke and dust erupting from the impact as the entire half-circle dais shook under my feet.
I didn't wait to see if it stuck.
I turned toward the machine.
The console.
Yorz was already moving.
Her hand reached for the main dial.
Shit. My body is on fire!
Her hand reached out toward another button on the console, fingers curling like she'd done it a hundred times in rehearsal.
"Dismantle!" I roared, throwing my hand out
The lash tore through the air, fast, hungry, carving straight toward her arm. I aimed for the elbow. If I could sever the whole damn arm, even for a second.
But then a hand erupted from the rubble.
Not reaching. Not clawing.
Pushing something.
It shimmered in the air like a sickly green tear in reality. Not a spell. Not a beam. A pulse. A reverse ripple, like space was collapsing inward and slamming back out again, gravity was bent wrong.
It hit me in the chest mid-step.
I staggered. The blast didn't burn, it drained. Like my body suddenly weighed twice as much, my thoughts molasses-thick.
And that small moment of hesitation…
My Dismantle veered.
It still hit Yorz, clipped her right hand as it hovered above the switch, and for half a second, I thought I'd stopped her.
But then I saw it.
Her fingers fell.
Clean slices, three of them, were sliced from the middle out, and hit the stone with wet thuds.
She didn't scream.
Didn't flinch.
Her jaw locked, blood trailing down her wrist, but her hand, what was left, slammed down on the button with the heel of her palm.
Click.
"No!"
The machine howled.
Gold and violet light erupted from the glyphs like the world was being peeled open.
Too late. Way too late.
The machine roared.
A pulse of light tore through the siphon chamber — runes flaring, steel vibrating, everything shaking like the mountain itself was groaning.
Then my bracer moved.
No, launched.
It yanked upward so hard my shoulder nearly dislocated. My body shot into the air like a puppet dragged by its strings, my heels scraping sparks off the floor before I was airborne. I clawed at the bracer, grabbing at my arm, digging in with my fingers like I could tear it off — but the thing didn't care.
Up.
Higher.
The hum turned into a scream as I shot past the dais, straight into the heart of the spellwork, until I was hanging mid-air across from Helga.
Close enough to touch her.
Close enough to see her eyelids flicker, ever so faintly.
I twisted in place, muscles burning, my free arm swinging to counterbalance the hold the bracer had on me — but it was no use.
I was stuck.
Hovering, suspended like some sacrificial ornament.
I snarled and tried to twist again.
Didn't work.
So I did the only thing I could think of.
"Dism-."
I stared at my arm.
The one still shackled by the bracer.
Still dragging me upward like I was nothing.
The word was there, on the edge of my tongue
One clean cut. That's all it would take. Just one...
I froze.
Just do it. Just cut the damn thing off.
But my body locked.
I couldn't.
I couldn't.
Gods, what was wrong with me? I'd fought monsters and cultists. I'd nearly died. I'd been stabbed and thrown and burned and betrayed.
But this?
Cutting off my own arm?
My stomach turned.
I stopped fighting, hand shaking, disgust bleeding in through my teeth as I clenched my jaw.
Coward.
Coward.
A pulse of magic bloomed behind me.
The rubble shifted.
I barely turned my head before a soft voice followed it.
"Fin…"
Saelira's voice.
Too close.
Too calm.
I twisted mid-air just in time to see her step out from beneath the collapsed pillar. Her robes were still torn, but her body… wasn't.
The skin that had been bruised, battered, even burned, was smooth again.
Unreal. Wrong.
Like a painting retouched to perfection.
She dusted her shoulder like she'd just walked through a curtain instead of being crushed under a ton of stone. One finger raised toward me, glowing with that same grotesque light.
I tried to gather cursed energy, tried to move, tried something.
But the cage snapped shut, just like Helga's.
A dome of flickering energy dropped around me, laced with steel veins and purple glyphs that burned as they carved into the air. It didn't strike. It just was, like a lid closing on a box.
The moment it locked, I felt it.
Like my breath had been cut in half.
And all the while, she just smiled up at me, eyes gleaming.
"See?" Saelira whispered. "It's perfect now."
...
End of Chapter.