From the shadows of the fog, two third-year students emerged, their faces hidden behind strange masks glowing faintly with runes. The enchantments kept the mist at bay, leaving the boys untouched as they moved with casual confidence.
"Didn't you say there were three?" one whispered, glancing around warily. "Where are the other two?"
"I don't know," his partner muttered. "But isn't this better? Less trouble for us if the fog already took care of them."
The first nodded, though unease lingered in his eyes. He stepped closer to Finn's unconscious form. "I just hope this kid doesn't die on us. If the teachers trace it back—"
"Tsk, who cares?" the other scoffed, smirking as he bent down and snatched up the spatial bag. "Not our fault he's too weak to handle the mist. Look at this—twenty-two monsters? Impressive haul." He chuckled darkly, slinging the bag over his shoulder. "This'll give us the edge. Let's go."
They vanished into the fog, footsteps fading.
From the shadows of the trees, Alex and Raphael stepped out. Raphael's jaw was tight, his gaze fixed on the empty space where the third-years had disappeared.
"Why didn't we stop them?" His voice carried both frustration and anger. His eyes dropped to Finn's still body.
"We have no business with the game," Alex replied evenly. "We're not here for sport. Should we waste our strength on petty thieves?"
Raphael snapped his head toward him. "Don't you get it? He trusted us. That's why he followed. Standing by while they steal what's ours makes us look weak." His voice lowered, sharper. "It's not about the game—it's about what it means."
Alex's eyes narrowed. "Why are you getting so worked up? It's just a game." His tone carried irritation.
"To you, maybe. But not to me." Raphael scoffed, shoulders tense. "Forget it. No point trying to talk sense into you. Wait here—I'll handle it myself."
Before Alex could reply, Raphael vanished into the mist. Alex was left with the unconscious Finn and a deep sigh.
"I hate getting dragged into other people's business," he muttered. "I was warned—don't interfere. But him…" His gaze flicked in the direction Raphael had gone. "…he never listens."
A minute later, Raphael reappeared, carrying two bags. His expression was calm, but his eyes glinted with cold satisfaction.
"Why two?" Alex asked, surprised.
"I borrowed theirs," Raphael said simply. He emptied the contents of the second bag into Finn's, his movements precise. "Next time, they won't act stupid."
When he finished, he slung the bag over his back and pointed at Finn. "You'll carry him."
Alex blinked. "What? Since when did you start giving orders?"
"Would you rather carry the bag… or the boy? Choose."
Alex stared at him. Carrying the bag would brand him a servant in everyone's eyes, but carrying the unconscious Finn? That could be spun as heroic. His pride weighed the choice.
"…I'll take the boy," Alex muttered. He crouched beside Finn. "Help me lift him."
Together they hoisted the boy onto Alex's back. As Alex straightened, Raphael bit his lip, trying not to laugh at the sight. His friend, always aloof, now burdened like a reluctant caretaker. Alex noticed the suppressed grin but ignored it, his irritation simmering.
"Let's go," Raphael said, heading back the way he had come.
They trudged through the mist until the faint outlines of two bodies appeared sprawled on the ground. When they got closer, Alex stiffened.
"Michael?" His voice was low, disbelief lacing his tone. One of the unconscious boys was a fellow first-year he had spoken to before.
Raphael's expression darkened, silent.
Alex looked between Michael and the second boy, realization dawning. "…They tried the same trick." Disappointment colored his voice. "I can't believe he would stoop this low."
"We can't trust anyone," Raphael said coldly as he stepped over the bodies.
Alex followed but hissed under his breath. "So you're saying I shouldn't trust you either?"
That made Raphael stop abruptly. He turned, his eyes sharp, almost glowing with intensity. Then, softer: "I'm the only one you should trust."
Alex blinked, taken aback. The words didn't sound like a suggestion—they sounded like an order. He stared into Raphael's eyes, searching, and for a moment Raphael didn't look away. But then he blinked, his gaze dropping.
"…If you trusted only me," Raphael murmured, almost to himself, "I'd be happy."
The silence between them grew heavy, awkward. Alex didn't answer, and Raphael's jaw tightened as if he regretted speaking at all.
They pressed forward until they reached where the rest of the first-years had gathered. Without a word, Alex crouched and lowered Finn onto the grass.
"Take care of him," he said shortly. Before anyone could respond, he turned on his heel and walked away.
"Return the bag already," he told Raphael over his shoulder. "Or do you plan to play delivery boy all day?"
Lost in thought, Raphael didn't answer right away. Alex frowned, stepped close, and smacked him lightly on the back of the head.
"Snap out of it. What are you always thinking about?" Alex asked sharply. "Hurry up. Return it and let's move."
Raphael gritted his teeth but obeyed, dropping the bag at the students' feet before jogging to catch up.
As soon as he rejoined him, Alex's voice dropped. "Someone's watching us."
Raphael blinked. "Could be the teachers."
Alex shook his head. "No. They're busy with the other groups. This presence isn't human. I can feel the aura—it's demonic." He suddenly veered left, his steps quickening.
Raphael followed without question, his pulse quickening. "Still following us?"
"Yes," Alex muttered. His tone grew grim. "Stay close. Don't break away."
They pushed deeper into the forest, the fog swallowing everything behind them. At a certain point, Alex halted, eyes narrowing.
"It's coming."
Before Raphael could ask, the air shifted. A blur shot from the mist. In the blink of an eye, a hand clamped around both their throats. The force was overwhelming, dragging them back through the underbrush.
Alex's eyes locked onto their assailant. A girl, young—his age, maybe wven younger. A single horn curved from her forehead, faintly glowing. Her eyes burned crimson, sharp as blades. Despite the ferocity in her grip, her lips curved into a soft, almost playful smile.
She pushed them further and further from their original spot, her strength monstrous. Alex didn't resist. His mind churned, troubled not by her power… but by the familiarity he felt in her presence.