The two stared at each other for a brief, tense moment.
Then, in the next instant—bang, bang, bang!
Nicholas rolled away as several bullets tore through the air where he had just stood. He hit the ground in a crouch and immediately manifested a plate of Darkium, angling it to intercept the next barrage of gunfire. Sparks danced off its surface as the bullets struck.
"Ha. You predicted I'd immediately fire?" Gin mused, his tone light, almost entertained.
Nicholas let out an exasperated groan. "As if that's hard. We're at a considerable distance from each other, you have a gun, I have nothing. Logically, the first thing you'd do is shoot me and the second—"
Nicholas dismissed the Darkium plate just in time to see Gin already in front of him, arm outstretched, fingers inches from his throat.
"That."
Nicholas quickly reacted. He caught the demon's wrist with one hand and scoffed—a bold move, one that made Gin's piercing blue eyes gleam with amusement.
"Did anyone tell you, you yap too much?"
In response, Nicholas conjured a dagger in his free hand and drove it toward Gin's arm.
The demon's response was instant. Thwack!
A powerful kick slammed into Nicholas's side, launching him backward. He hit the ground hard, sliding several feet before coming to a stop.
"Not bad," Gin admitted, cracking his knuckles.
Nicholas coughed but forced himself to move, summoning another Darkium plate—this time positioned over his legs.
Bang! A bullet ricocheted off the barrier.
Nicholas wasn't fast enough to dodge a bullet after it was fired, but he didn't need to. He was good at predicting where Gin would shoot—reading the position of the gun, calculating angles, imagining what he would do in the demon's shoes.
Gin had first aimed at his torso, but Nicholas had rolled away just before the shot. Now, Gin had adjusted, likely assuming Nicholas would prioritize protecting his upper body. But Nicholas had anticipated that assumption, placing the plate over his legs instead.
It was a battle of wits as much as it was a fight of strength.
Gin grinned, seeming to pick up on the game. "Oh? Playing mind games now?" He tilted his head. "Smart. Dangerous, even."
Then, in a blur of motion, he switched tactics.
Instead of firing, Gin dashed forward, closing the distance in an instant. His coat billowed behind him, and before Nicholas could summon another defense, the demon was already within striking range—his gun still in one hand, but his other fist aimed for Nicholas's face, the side of it to be precise.
Nicholas barely had a second to react.
However, a second was all he needed.
In that instant, he willed flames to burst from the front of his mask. The sudden flash of dark fire made Gin momentarily falter—just for a split second, but that was all Nicholas needed. He lunged forward, grabbing Gin's gun and shoving it downward.
Bang!
A bullet buried itself in the floor.
Nicholas had been right—Gin had tried to punch and shoot him at the same time. 'A nasty piece of work, this one is,' Nicholas thought bitterly.
Without hesitation, he conjured a knee-guard made of Darkium and drove into Gin's gut. The demon let out a sharp grunt, his grip on the gun loosening just enough for Nicholas to rip it from his grasp.
Then, before Gin could retaliate, Nicholas jumped back, widening the distance between them.
He wasn't confident he could beat the demon in close combat, but at long range, at least, he could defend himself.
Nicholas's mind worked fast. He needed to win, or at least escape. The environment was his best bet.
His eyes darted around the base floor. 'Not much here…' No real cover, no solid barricades he could use. The best option? Go upstairs.
Then, something else caught his attention. Outside the shattered windows, the sky was darkening. Nightfall was creeping in.
'Perfect.'
He still wasn't sure what his odds of winning were, but he would be much more confident if he fought the demon in complete and utter darkness.
Before he could move, a cold voice echoed through the room.
"Oi."
Nicholas turned back to see Gin standing eerily still.
"Give it back."
The demon's voice had changed. No longer playful or taunting—now it was low, hollow, and dangerous.
Nicholas hesitated. He wasn't sure why, but a sharp instinct told him—don't mess with this.
His eyes flickered toward the three idiotic crooks still lingering at the edge of the room. All of them wore horrified expressions.
Even Nicholas's gut was telling him to return the gun.
His gaze dropped to the weapon in his hand. There was an inscription carved into the side:
For Gin.
"Tch. Emotional attachment? Really?" Nicholas muttered to himself. So that's why he snapped.
Still… would Nicholas really play this dirty?
Yes. Yes, he would.
Especially if it meant staying alive.
He was about to speak—maybe make some demands, maybe taunt the demon—when Gin suddenly vanished.
Nicholas's eyes barely had time to widen before steel came slashing toward him.
Shit!
Sparks flew as blade met blade, the impact rattling his arms. Had Nicholas not materialized a dagger beforehand, and of course blocked the attack, he would most likely be dead right now.
'Oh, he's serious serious about it,' Nicholas realized.
He hadn't even intended to use the gun—he'd just wanted to limit Gin's options. But judging from the way the demon moved now, smooth and deadly, Gin had completely abandoned his playful attitude.
Unease crept into Nicholas's mind.
Would giving the gun back actually calm the Demon down?
…Knowing his luck? Probably not.
"Fine! Go get it, you crybaby!" With all his might, Nicholas hurled the gun across the room.
Gin's head snapped in the direction it flew. In an instant, he dashed toward it.
Nicholas took the opportunity. He bolted for the stairs, barely avoiding a fresh bullet as Gin fired the very moment his fingers wrapped around his gun again.
As soon as he reached the top, he formed a large plate of Darkium to block the stairwell entrance, figuring it might buy some time.
Nicholas took a deep breath—only to freeze as he heard multiple breathing noises behind him.
His body tensed. Instinct kicked in, and flames ignited in his hand as he whipped around.
Two figures sat on the dimly lit staircase.
One was a younger, dark-skinned teenager with a buzz cut and striking green eyes. He looked… roughed up, like he'd been in a few too many fights. The other was a pale-skinned adult, though Nicholas couldn't tell if they were young or old. Their sleep-deprived eyes and messy abundance of white hair made it hard to tell. They wore a white business suit, wrinkled and slightly torn, and their onyx-black eyes darted toward him with unease.
Nicholas's first instinct was to assume they were enemies. But the sheer terror on their faces made him hesitate.
He exhaled, unconsciously scratching his fingers.
"You two... you're civilians?" His voice carried an authority he hadn't entirely meant to use.
They both nodded—slowly, cautiously.
Nicholas promptly whacked them both on the forehead.
"Then why the hell didn't you run when you had the chance?!" he hissed.
The teen's eyes bulged. "How was I supposed to trust that guy wouldn't do anything?! For all I know, he might be a sadistic murderer waiting for us to escape just so he can shoot us all down!"
The adult gulped. "Ditto."
Nicholas resisted the urge to facepalm. Though he couldn't necessarily blame them for overthinking, it would be hypocritical of him to do so as he himself was an overthinker. The problem, however, was that he would somehow have to deal with the demon while also getting the civilians to safety.
Sighing, he asked, "What are your names?"
The white-haired adult hesitated before answering, "...Lucian."
The teen, by contrast, barely hesitated. "Ethan Blackbourne."
Nicholas almost scoffed. What era have I found myself in? Lucian and Ethan? What kind of names were those? He shook his head.
"Here's the plan," he said, already knowing it was a terrible one. "Both of you will go upstairs. I'll... try to distract the demon in some way, then regroup with you and—hopefully—get you out through a window or something."
It wasn't one of his better plans, and it had dozens of holes in it despite the plan being only two sentences long.
Lucian cleared his throat. "Actually, I—"
BANG!
The Darkium barrier shook.
Nicholas flinched. The demon had finally attempted to break through.
Lucian let out an embarrassing little shriek before coughing awkwardly and trying again. "Ahem—I... might be of assistance."
Both Nicholas and Ethan immediately leaned in, eyes locked on him.
Lucian visibly tensed at the sudden attention. Nicholas internally noted that the guy definitely wasn't used to social interaction.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Lucian swallowed hard and mumbled—
"I... I think I'm an Awakened."
Nicholas's eyes narrowed with skepticism. Ethan's, however, sparkled with excitement.
"What's your Attribute?" Nicholas asked.
Lucian hesitated. "A dark… I think."
Nicholas almost snorted. 'Despite his name meaning 'Light'? The irony is killing me. That's without even mentioning that my name is 'Darklight'.'
"So? What can you do?"
Lucian responded by raising his hand and manifesting a small swirl of black fog in his palm.
"I can… create a fog, I guess."
Ethan eyed it suspiciously. "Hey… doesn't that, like, look like the same stuff the Swart Rook is made out of?"
Lucian shrugged, looking uneasy.
Both of them turned to Nicholas—who stood frozen still.
"It's… Darkness," he muttered.
"Darkness?" they both echoed.
Nicholas's sharp gaze locked onto Lucian. "Lucian."
The sudden intensity of his voice made Lucian shiver, instinctively wondering if he'd done something wrong.
Then Nicholas asked, "Do you hear voices by any chance?"
Lucian blinked. "What?"
Lucian and Ethan both gave him a look that screamed, 'What the hell are you talking about?'
"I don't think so…" Lucian said, shifting slightly away from him.
Nicholas barely registered the movement. His eyes were locked onto the fog in Lucian's palm.
He shivered.
There was no mistaking it. It was Darkness. The same Darkness he could create—only Lucian's seemed thicker, denser somehow.
Then, out of nowhere, terror gripped him.
He remembered the Wendigo's words. That monster's words… calling Nicholas its kin, a monster.
Nicholas's breath hitched.
His thoughts spiraled.
How much does he know? Does he know anything? Is he… a monster?
His hand shot up and slapped his face, the sharp sting grounding him. Lucian and Ethan both jumped in alarm.
"W-What the hell was that for?" Ethan asked.
Nicholas exhaled sharply. 'Don't think about it. Don't think about it. Don't think about it.'
He forced his focus back to the situation.
"So you can create fog," he said, regaining his analytical tone. "Can you create a large amount of it? And do you feel any different when using it? Tell me everything you can think of off the top of your head."
Lucian hesitated before answering. "I… haven't experimented with it too much. I think I only got it about a week ago."
"A week?" Nicholas narrowed his eyes. That was too recent. The incident with the circus happened a week ago. Was there a chance Lucian was one of the captives back then?
"But," Lucian continued, "I am confident I can fill a room with it. I don't feel any different when using it." He gave an awkward smile. "Oh, but I guess it's suffocating? When you're standing in it, I mean."
Nicholas hummed in thought.
Before he could say anything else—BANG!
The Darkium barrier shook violently.
The Demon's voice drifted through the other side, amused yet dripping with malice.
"If y'all are done chatting… I'm coming in."
Nicholas's heart started pounding faster than ever. Their situation hadn't fundamentally changed even with the revelation that Lucian was Awakened. The best plan Nicholas could think of was to cover the entire floor in fog and try to make a break for it.
'It won't work,' Nicholas thought bitterly. The demon was most likely still waiting outside, either for him to slip up and dismiss the barrier or to find another way to the next floor.
Regardless, they were running out of time. Nicholas was certain the demon was dead set on killing him. In a way, he found some solace in that fact. But there was also a chance the demon would kill the two civilians with him. Not to mention, Nicholas had no idea what became of the three crooks whose names he couldn't even remember.
"Let's… go to the next floor. Lucian, leave a lot of fog behind us as we walk," Nicholas muttered. Then he turned to Ethan and asked, "Is there any use for you?"
His question came off as rude, but he was too stressed to care.
Ethan furrowed his brows, trying to think of something. "…My dad's a cop?"
Lucian scoffed. "As if that's going to do us any good."
Ethan glared at him. "Don't act all high and mighty just because you can do something."
"Both of you shut it." Nicholas's dangerous tone cut through their argument. He turned to Lucian, his gaze sharp. "We're all stressed out. Let's not add to it."
"Is… that why your leg is twitching?" Ethan suddenly asked.
Nicholas glanced at him. "Twitching? What do you mean? What leg?" His tone was strangely defensive.
"Your right leg—"
Nicholas cut him off. "It might still be a good idea to call him. I'm guessing you don't have your phone?"
Ethan shook his head, causing Lucian to sigh.
Nicholas debated his options. He could give Ethan his phone, but that would allow his father to trace it, which could expose his secret identity. Could he risk it?
Fortunately, he had taken another phone from the pile. "Do you remember his number?" he asked, holding out a phone with a green case.
Ethan shook his head at first, but then his eyes lit up. "I don't, but I don't have to. That's my phone!" His voice was filled with joy.
Nicholas cursed Fate in his head.
Then Ethan's excitement shifted into suspicion. "Hey, why do you have my phone?"
Nicholas wanted to scoff. Was Ethan seriously doubting him after everything? He suppressed the urge. "It's a coincidence," he said. "I just took one in case I needed to call the police."
That seemed to be an acceptable answer for Ethan. Lucian, however, still looked skeptical.
While Ethan called his father and explained the situation, Nicholas led the two across the large floor. He broke down one of the doors, revealing a completely abandoned apartment. He went to one of the windows and, after creating a gauntlet, shattered the glass. Then, he formed a rope of darkness.
"Here's the plan. You two run for your fucking lives while I fight the demon."
Neither of them liked the idea, but they followed his lead and climbed out.
As Lucian started climbing down, Nicholas asked, "How long do you think you can keep this fog up?"
Lucian hesitated. Nicholas caught onto his uncertainty and reworded the question. "Then explain how you manifest it."
Lucian looked surprised as if he had never thought about it before. "Like water?" He shrugged, his expression tense. "Kind of like a faucet? It just sort of… comes out?"
Nicholas tried to understand, but the explanation didn't help much. Still, he nodded and let Lucian continue.
"Oh and one more thing. Take this to the police." Nicholas gave Lucian the mask Wallace wore before he stole it from him.
Now, he was alone.
The fog began to dissipate.
His barrier had vanished, long ago.
Night had fallen, leaving the floor shrouded in darkness. Even so, Nicholas shivered.
The demon's voice had been far more terrifying than he expected. And when he thought back to the moment he had stolen its gun—those cold, stone-like eyes had sent a chill down his spine.
The eyes of a killer.
Footsteps echoed around him. The demon was here.
Nicholas tightened his grip on his dagger, his eyes darting in every direction.
He could see a form—quick, flickering in and out of his vision, weaving through the open doorways of abandoned apartments.
'Where is he… where…'
Then, a silhouette appeared behind him.
"Found you."
A swift metal blade came down.