DENZEL NIGHTINGALE
The past four days had been surprisingly peaceful. Not once was I called to the Fever Dream or contacted by the Thorns. Even the fight I was set to partake in a month from now felt less stressful than before.
The thought was a distant worry, something I'd have to deal with in the future.
Right now, what was most important was Gelda. It was way past her bed time, almost 11:00 PM, yet she was still awake, insisting we play another round of Gulmon, a game she had grown very fond of.
It was hard resisting her when she made that adorable pouting face, puffing up her cheeks and holding her breath until she was red in the face in an effort to make me feel bad for her.
"It's late Gelda, go to bed."
She wouldn't budge, I was afraid she'd die with how red her face was becoming.
"We'll play tomorrow, isn't that better than playing this late at night? I won't play well if I'm tired."
She looked at me as if thinking before deflating her cheeks and asking.
"Promise?"
"Promise."
I could see her excitement despite her attempts to hide it. It wasn't long before she fell asleep.
[Sigh, She seems happy] A smile couldn't help itself from appearing on my face looking at her sleeping peacefully.
[I'll make sure things stay that way.]
I needed to ask Dan if he had any jobs I could do for a few Marks.
Dellila, the saleswoman who has helped me a few days prior, had come to collect the rent for the month. Though I found it strange that the utilities were 10 Marks cheaper than expected. When I asked, she only smiled and told me it was nothing to worry about.
It was better for me so I wasn't going to complain.
[I'll go get a bit of air before going to sleep. These past few days I haven't gone outside too much.]
The pain of Vanir's overuse had already subdued, all that was left was my leg, though the pain had gotten much more bearable thanks to Oule.
"You're up late." Dellila was the one to greet me at the door, she liked to work late.
"I could say the same to you." Her face was smooth despite her advancing age and her auburn hair cascaded down beautifully in the form of curls. She had eyes the color of sapphire, eyes that glowed with hope and a determination to survive.
"Good point. You look like your heading down, mind accompanying me." It was easy talking to Dellila. She didn't want anything from me or expect anything as she knew we were both just barely surviving.
"Sure, that wouldn't be the worst thing." She smiled at me and began walking.
As we walked towards the elevator, a conversation naturally begun between us. Slowly, it turned into both of us slowly opening up to eachother. It was natural after holding everything in for so many years.
She told me about Dobur, her son who she had not too many years after leaving college. The man who was Dobur's father had claimed to be a wealthy man who would take care of her the second he solved some problems with the bank.
Dellila believed him, which led to them getting together and Dobur was the result. The man didn't even bother showing up at the hospital. After using Dellila for her body and money, he disappeared like a puff of smoke.
I felt for Dellila, being a 'single parent' myself. Though I wasn't her biological father, I had been raising Gelda for a while now. I knew what it felt like to raise a kid in a broken home, knowing you'd never get to give them a proper upbringing.
Alright — here's a tightened, more suspense-driven rewrite of that section, keeping your plot points but pacing the shock and action so it builds instead of drops all at once.
The elevator chimed, its doors sliding open with that faint ding I'd heard a hundred times before.
Dellila stepped out first, her curls swaying as she glanced back at me with a small smile.
I took a step forward...
...and froze.
Something sharp and metallic cut through the stale air. Not the smell of perfume, not the oil from the old elevator gears…
Gunpowder.
"Dellila—"
The crack of the shot was deafening in the narrow space. She jerked mid-step, knees folding beneath her, blood spilling in dark ribbons across the tiled floor.
I barely caught her before she hit the ground. Her eyes were wide, not with fear, she didn't even have the seconds to be afraid, just surprise. And then… nothing.
My grip tightened until my knuckles popped.
From the far corner, a man in matte black stepped into view, gun still warm in his hands. "Tch. Missed." His voice was casual, irritated, like he was complaining about a bad throw.
I was already moving. The mist swirled up around me, Vanir roaring to life...
...and fizzled.
A faint, electric crackle bit at my ears. My skin prickled.
An Anti-Nexi field.
The bastard grinned.
He lunged first, fast for a man his size. I barely ducked the first swing, my injured leg screaming as I rolled clear. My fist met his ribs hard enough to knock the wind out of him, but he didn't go down. A knee slammed toward my gut, I twisted, took it on the hip, and used the opening to drive my elbow into his jaw.
This time he staggered, but not before his free hand flashed. Clicker.
I grabbed his wrist, slammed it into the wall until the plastic snapped in half. He yowled, dropped it, but his other hand, still clutching the gun,was coming up again.
No time to think. I wrenched the weapon away, cracked him across the temple with it, and let him drop. This one wasn't getting back up.
But the damage was already done.
The hum of the anti-Nexi field was still gnawing at my senses. If it stayed active, I had no edge. No escape. And Gelda was upstairs, alone.
I took the stairs two at a time, leg be damned. The hallway to our room was filled with smoke, a low haze curling along the ceiling. Somewhere below, the building's fire alarm wheezed to life.
Room 206's door was open.
Gelda stood in the doorway, rubbing her eyes. "Denzel? What's—"
I didn't let her finish. I scooped her up, turning back toward the stairwell...
...and a shadow moved at the far end of the hall.