Akira lay on the bed, eyes shut tight, chest rising and falling in sharp, shallow breaths. She had just escaped—what exactly? Something inhuman. Her mind couldn't process it, but her body remembered: the rush of fear, the heat in her hands, the force that had blasted from her palms—impossible, unreal.
She sat up and stared at her trembling fingers in the moonlight. Focusing, she willed the energy to return.
Nothing. Just silence.
She flopped back onto the pillow, burying her face.
I'm going crazy.
Something was wrong—deeply, terribly wrong.
Her eyes caught the letter on the bedside table. She'd opened it earlier, but had barely read beyond the first line before she'd fallen apart.
"Hey,
Kiddo—
I'm heading out on some very urgent business and didn't get a chance to call or tell you in person. I know you'll be furious, but I promise to bring you your favorite souvenir, my little princess.
PS: I've given Aunt Elena the house key. She'll help with food (and water my plants).
Love,
Dad."
Why Elena? God, why Elena? I could crash at Austin's, or Uncle Leo's…
Her dad knew how she felt about her aunt, and yet here Elena was, bossing her around. Always that same practiced smile, the too-bright eyes. She'd kept her distance for years; now avoidance wasn't enough. Everything felt as fragile as broken glass. She was alone, angry—a live wire.
Just today… I hit a girl at school.
She hit her.
That wasn't her.
She twisted beneath the covers, clutching the letter. Her body ached for sleep, but her mind roared. The dark circles under her eyes had gone permanent. She was slipping, and she knew it.
A soft knock rattled the doorframe.
"Akira," came Aunt Elena's sugary voice. "Dinner's ready. I made your favorite."
Akira froze. Her stomach clenched.
She swung the door open and spat out, "I already ate. And don't try to play mother. I'm fine."
Then she slammed it shut, leaving the hallway eerily empty.
—
Austin froze behind the bar, absentmindedly polishing a glass. He liked working at The Orchids, his father's elegant restaurant—a jewel tucked between glass towers and city lights. With its tall French windows, soft lighting, and marble floors, the place felt more like a dream than a job. The bar stood at the center, lined with rare, gleaming liquor bottles. In the corner, a small stage waited for the night's performers—mostly teens chasing the spotlight. On most nights, the restaurant buzzed with laughter, clinking glasses, and the low hum of a bass guitar.
Tonight, though, something was off.
"Lost somewhere, my boy?" a familiar voice asked from behind him.
Austin turned to see Leo, his father—tall, sharply dressed, and unmistakably the source of Austin's good looks. His hazel eyes glinted with half-teasing, half-wise amusement. Leo didn't just own the restaurant; he belonged in it.
"Hello? We listening?" Leo prodded, stepping behind the counter with a dishtowel slung over his shoulder.
Austin blinked. He'd been polishing the same glass for minutes. "Oh—yes, sorry. Just… zoning out."
Leo chuckled, inspecting the glass. "Either that one's cursed or you're deep in broody land again."
"A bit of both," Austin admitted with a half‑smile.
Leo leaned in. "Is this about Akira? I heard she slapped a girl today."
Austin raised an eyebrow. "You already heard about that?"
"Small town, big mouths," Leo smirked. "Also, Isabella stopped by for takeout—very dramatic about it."
That elicited a genuine flicker of a smile. "Akira's going through something. She won't talk to anyone. Do you think… it's time?"
Leo's expression softened. "Patience, son. People speak when they feel safe—sometimes just being there is louder than words. And yes, maybe it's time. Her powers might be awakening."
Austin trailed a finger along the counter's grain. "I just don't know if I'm helping. She's pushing everyone away—even me."
"Then push back, gently," Leo said, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "That's what a true friend does."
Austin grinned. "Best dad award goes to you. Now—cover my shift?"
He shot a wink and darted off before Leo could reply, leaving his father chuckling behind the bar.
Stepping into the cool evening air, Austin felt the city's soft buzz fade. The Orchids' glow faded behind him, but his mind stayed tangled in Akira's silence and the strange weight pressing on his chest. Something was shifting—unraveling beneath the surface of everything he knew.
—
Somewhere beyond the mortal veil, a different world stirred — a realm where ancient spirits moved in shadows, and destinies were forged far from human sight.
The air shimmered like a heat haze, folding open like a living curtain.
The Fox Realm breathed to life.
A vast world, hidden between layers of mist and time. The terrain was a breathtaking tapestry of wild forests and floating terraces of stone and crystal, glowing faintly with foxfire. Towering spires of ivory stone pierced the sky, spiraling toward an eternal twilight. Outside the city, a towering waterfall tumbled from unseen heights, crashing into the lake below in a thunderous roar.
At the heart of a mossy training ground surrounded by bone-white trees, Kyros narrowly dodged a blow, laughing as he spun away. Foxfire lanterns hovered around them like fireflies, flickering blue and gold against the shine of steel.
"You're getting slow, old man," he teased, his crimson ponytail whipping behind him as he leapt backward.
"I'm three months older than you," Alaric replied coolly, brushing a silver strand from his sharp, moonlit eyes. His half-open robe fluttered with his movements, a silver ring pulsing faintly on his index finger. Calm, lethal grace followed him like a second skin.
"You two are so dramatic," Ashley sighed from where she leaned lazily against a tree, her bow slung across her back. Golden curls framed her sharp, amused gaze. "At this pace, I'll be old before one of you lands a real hit."
"You're just jealous you can't keep up," Kyros shot back, launching another playful strike mid-air.
"I don't need to," she smirked. "I could shoot the knot off your ponytail from here."
"Please don't," Alaric murmured, deadpan.
A soft chime rang through the air — melodic and low, like wind in a crystal bell. A gust of wind followed, swirling leaves into glowing patterns of light.
Alaric turned toward the sound, just a second too slow. Kyros's blade grazed his shoulder.
Blood bloomed along the edge of Alaric's robe.
Ashley straightened. "That's the High Priestess's call."
Alaric barely flinched. "She only calls all three of us when it's important."
"Or dramatic," Kyros muttered, flicking his gaze toward the distant temple spires.
A figure stepped out from the misted path, robes of deep scarlet trailing behind her — Alisha, granddaughter of the temple's oracle and Alaric's fiancée. Her silver hair shimmered under the foxfire light, her pretty eyes calm and unreadable.
Her gaze lingered on Alaric's bleeding shoulder just a moment longer than necessary.
"She awaits you in the Fox temple," she said simply.
Then, coolly to Kyros: "And if you can't control your power, don't use it to hurt others."
Without waiting for a response, she turned and vanished into the mist.
"Who made her queen of the realm?" Ashley snapped. "She talks like we're beneath her."
"Let it go," Alaric said quietly, sheathing his sword. "Just ignore her."
Kyros snorted. "Aww, someone's worried. Maybe she'll come treat your little booboo later."
"Fuck off," Alaric muttered, rolling his eyes. "Let's go."
The three of them turned toward the temple gates, tension riding between laughter and dread.
In the distance, the twilight sky shimmered — as if the realm itself was holding its breath.
The trio walked through the whispering mist toward the temple — an ancient structure carved into the mountainside, its ivory stone glowing faintly under twilight. The entrance was draped in crimson silk, fluttering without wind. Inside, incense curled in the air, thick with the scent of jasmine and something older — aged parchment and burning leaves.
They entered the Inner Hall, and at its center stood the High Priestess — Rohana Bane.
She was cloaked in layered robes of deep red and gold, embroidered with foxfire thread. Her hair, long, braided silver — shimmered like moonlit water, and her eyes were completely white — not with blindness, but with sight too deep for the present.
She did not turn when they entered. She already knew they were there. Her eyes slowly returned to a deep, ink-black shade.
The energy in the chamber thickened as Kyros, Alaric, and Ashley arrived and knelt before her.
She still didn't look at them when she spoke.
"Stand. I imagine you're confused about being summoned this late?"
"Not at all," Kyros answered carelessly.
Rohana's gaze flicked toward him. "Then, Mr. West, I have a task for you. For all three of you."
Her tone sharpened. Rohana and Kyros never got along — not since he was a child. He was always breaking rules, skipping training, and stirring chaos. But for all his defiance, he remained one of their strongest warriors. She tolerated his presence, but never indulged his attitude.
"What happened?" Ashley asked, cutting through the tension with calm curiosity.
"Something — or someone — is disturbing both the Foes realm and ours. Two humans and two of our kind are already dead." Rohana's voice was cold, firm. "This must end."
"It's Ursula, isn't it?" Alaric said quietly, his tone unreadable. His voice, always calm and measured, carried an edge of certainty. He rarely spoke, and never without reason. No one had seen him smile in years.
Rohana studied him for a long moment.
"Correct. Mr. Lockheart you never disappoint me."
"Noted," Kyros muttered, ignoring what Rohana was saying with fire rising behind his words. "She's been a pain for long enough. I'll end it."
"It's decided, then," Rohana said. "You'll leave tomorrow. Prepare yourselves." She turned slightly, adding, "Mr. Lockheart, you stay."
Kyros and Ashley exchanged a quick glance. Alaric gave them a small nod — steady and reassuring. They bowed and exited, leaving only the High Priestess and Alaric in the room.
Rohana turned fully now and sank into the large stone chair at the heart of the hall, the air thickening with silence.
"Alaric, I've always admired your skill and clarity of thought," she began. "You observe what others miss. You see what most are too proud to notice."
She paused, her expression unreadable.
"But this mission… it will test more than your skill. It will test your duty to your kind. And that, Alaric, is harder to protect than any name."
The words hung heavy in the still air.
Alaric didn't flinch, but something inside him stirred — a memory, perhaps. A burden he thought he'd buried long ago.
"I will protect the Lockheart name with my life," he said, then paused before adding, "And I will never forget my duty — even if it costs me my life."
His voice was steady as stone.
Rohana gave a slow nod. "Then I trust you, Mr. Lockheart."
He bowed once more and turned to leave.
As he disappeared into the mist of the corridor, Rohana exhaled softly. Her white eyes returned, glowing faintly with distant sight.
"She's not just another rogue," she murmured to herself. "She's hunting something... or someone."
And with that, she closed her eyes — sensing the shadow on the horizon growing darker.
—
Austin reached Akira's house and knocked lightly on the door, one hand clutching a handbag stuffed with snacks and ice cream.
After a moment, Elena opened it. Her expression was unreadable.
Austin blinked, a little surprised to see her. He offered a faint, awkward smile.
She returned it just as faintly. "Hey. Long time no see. How have you been?"
Austin studied her closely. Like Akira, he had never felt entirely comfortable around Elena. Something about her smile always sent a chill up his spine — too wide, too perfect, too practiced.
Avoiding her gaze, he glanced into the house. "I'm fine. Where's Akira?"
Elena's smile didn't falter, but something behind her eyes sharpened. She knew how close Austin and Akira were — and she also knew neither of them liked her much. Still, she kept playing her part.
"She's in her room," she said after a beat. "I don't think she's feeling well. Anyway, you can go check on her. Try to make sure she eats something, if you can."
She turned and walked away without another word.
Austin made his way to Akira's door and knocked gently.
Inside, Akira lay tossing and turning, trapped in dreams she couldn't remember and a heaviness she couldn't shake. The knock yanked her out of that haze, and frustration boiled over.
"Are you deaf? I said I'm not—"
She yanked the door open mid-shout — and froze.
Austin stood there, sheepish and hesitant, holding up the bag of snacks like a peace offering.
The anger drained from her face in an instant. Without a word, she stepped forward and threw her arms around him, burying herself in the familiar comfort of his presence — like he was the only thing holding her together.
Caught off guard, Austin blinked. "Umm… okay, but she just left."
Still, he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. For now, that was enough.
"I'm right here," he said softly, after a long pause.
Akira pulled back, sniffled once, and narrowed her eyes at him.
"Right here? What took you so long, huh? You wait until I'm one emotional meltdown away from punching a mirror to show up?"
Austin raised both hands defensively. "Hey, I came as fast as I could! And I got hit with a surprise I wasn't ready for. Man… Elena's smile. That thing still haunts me."
Akira let out a short laugh. "Yeah… it's like she practiced it in the mirror until even the mirror gave up."
They both chuckled, and the weight in the room lightened — just a little.
Still, a quiet fear gnawed at Akira. After what had happened — the slap, the tears — what would Austin think of her?
Not just him. What would everyone think?
She hesitated and tried to steer the conversation away from school. Each time Austin brought it up, she shut it down. Then, silence filled the room.
Finally, Austin broke it.
"You know… about that slap," he said, glancing at her. "You weren't wrong."
Akira turned to him, surprised.
"If someone had said something like that about my mom…" he continued, "I probably would've done worse."
Akira tried to smile, but it didn't quite reach her eyes.
"I didn't even get the chance to explain. And honestly, I didn't want to. I didn't know who would believe me. And you... I didn't want to see the look on your face if you didn't."
"Hey… hey, look at me," Austin said gently. "You don't have to explain anything. Not to me."
Her shoulders eased a little. A smile tugged at her lips — smaller, but real. She wasn't sure she could tell him everything yet — the strange powers, the demon-like creature, the voice. Who would even believe it? But for now, this was enough.
She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again.
Austin looked around, avoiding her gaze.
"So… dinner? Or are you planning to just live off trauma and sarcasm?"
"I was thinking of becoming a ghost, actually. No food, no school, no awkward small talk."
"Sounds like my dream life," Austin said, heading toward the freezer. "But until then, ice cream?"
Akira raised an eyebrow. "You just carry ice cream around now?"
Austin pulled out a tub with a dramatic flourish. "I came prepared. Horror movie and existential crisis recovery kit — deluxe edition."
She smirked. "Let me guess — next you'll say you brought garlic in case of vampires?"
"Don't be ridiculous," he scoffed, then whispered, "It's in my backpack."
Akira laughed louder than she had in days.
"Okay fine, let's watch something. But I get to pick."
"Please not horror," Austin pleaded, already flinching.
"Horror, it is," she said smugly.
Austin groaned and flopped onto the couch. "You don't want me here, do you?"
"Not when you act like a terrified puppy."
He tossed her a spoon. "Whatever. But if I scream louder than the ghost, you owe me your dessert."
"Deal."
They curled up on the couch, the glow of the TV casting soft shadows over their faces. Between ghostly jump scares and Austin's dramatic yelps, Akira's laughter returned, light and unguarded.
"Wait," she said suddenly, eyeing him. "Did you tell Isabella you're here? She's going to kill you if she finds out we watched a movie without her."
Austin grinned. "No one's going to tell her. This is our secret mission now."
Akira rolled her eyes but leaned back, finally relaxing.
The movie rolled on. Somewhere between the third ghost and Austin's exaggerated scream, Akira dozed off, her head resting lightly on his shoulder.
And this time — she didn't wake up in fear.
For the first time in days, she fell asleep in peace.
Austin shifted gently to keep her steady, letting her rest.
She looked peaceful. Finally,
A small, nostalgic smile tugged at his lips.
He whispered, barely louder than the hum of the TV:
"Whatever it is, no one's going to hurt you. I'll always be by your side."
A flicker of memory surfaced—
Two boys chasing him across the schoolyard, laughter cruel and sharp.
He'd tripped. Scraped his knee. Alone. The boys were kicking him, taunting—
"You filthy animal," one had said. "You like boys? I'll teach you how boys like things."
A fist pulled back—
"Then teach me, and I'll show you how to ask a girl out!"
A flying kick hit one of the boys square in the jaw. He went down hard.
"Come on, dummy!"
Akira's hand had reached for his. Wild-eyed, fearless. She grabbed him, and they ran like hell.
Behind the library, out of breath and laughing, she looked at him and said:
"Well, no one wants to be my friend. Will you be mine?"
Then she held out her pinky, face smudged with dirt but eyes burning bright.
"Best friends forever," she'd said.
"No one's going to hurt you. I'll always be by your side."
Austin blinked, the memory warm in his chest. He looked at her sleeping form, curled under the blanket beside him.
"Guess it's my turn now."
He brushed a loose strand of hair from her face.
"Whatever you're going through… I'll figure it out. And I'll never let you push me away."
***
In the distance, lightning struck — a low rumble echoing through the skies.
The atmosphere shifted. The air thickened, heavy with smoke and something far older than time itself. The world was holding its breath.
Far beneath, deep in the earth, a forgotten chamber stirred.
The walls were jagged stone, lit only by flickering torches. Ancient fox runes pulsed faintly across the ground, carved into a ritual circle. Bones and shards of broken mirrors lay scattered like discarded offerings. At the center, a brazier burned with an unnatural green flame — alive, restless, and wrong.
Ursula stepped barefoot into the circle, her ceremonial robes trailing like whispering silk. Her eyes gleamed with silver-white light, something inhuman swirling behind them.
She murmured to herself, low and calm, "Time to wake up, my children."
Kneeling at the center, she drew a curved dagger across her palm. Blood dripped into the flame below, sizzling as it touched the cursed fire. The pendant around her wrist flickered violently, as if straining to break free. Her grip tightened. Whatever magic held it in place—it was strong.
Ursula began to chant, her voice echoing with something older than language:
"From bone and ash,
From breath and fear…
Come forth, those who crawl in shadow.
Those who crave, who hunger, who remember…"
A wind rushed through the sealed chamber—icy and sharp. The torches flickered blue. The blood in the brazier turned black and began to churn, thick and restless.
In the corners of the cave, shadows began to slither. Twitching. Crawling. Watching.
They had no mouths, but their attention was suffocating. Eyes. So many eyes.
Ursula stood tall, arms outstretched, voice rising not just in volume—but in presence. Her words vibrated through the stone, through the earth itself.
"The Foxes are preparing their warriors," she hissed. "Rohana hides something—something I require.
I want her distracted. I want fear to spread in their streets like a disease."
A demon stepped forward—tall, malformed, half-wolf and half-smoke. Its limbs were too long, and its mouth never closed. Its voice was barely more than a breath.
"You promised us blood… You promised flesh…"
"You will get it," Ursula replied coldly, "but not yet. I want her first."
She pulled a piece of cloth from her robes—a torn scrap from a girl's jacket. She tossed it toward the circle.
"Play with her," she said with a cruel smile. "I want to see what she's capable of."
The demons hissed in delight. One screeched—a high, piercing note that stabbed at the air—until Ursula silenced it with a flick of her fingers.
Her voice darkened. "But don't harm her. Not yet. She is mine to deal with."
She stepped back. The sigils beneath her feet burned brighter—red, then blinding white.
The demons began to vanish—slipping into cracks in the earth, into shadows, into nothing.
One by one, they disappeared.
The flame in the brazier sputtered, then died.
Ursula stood alone in the dark and looked at the pendant.
She smiled and said softly,
"Soon, my love… we will be together forever."
—
Akira shifted in her sleep, a faint frown creasing her brow. A soft wind rattled the window, though no storm was forecast.
She blinked as sunlight filtered through the curtains.
Afternoon already?
Rubbing her eyes, she sat up slowly. Her body still felt heavy, but lighter than it had in days. The couch blanket had slipped to the floor. Austin was gone — only a folded note waited on the table in front of her.
SOS call from Dad. I had to leave. Call me when you wake up. Rest up, enjoy your weekend.
PS: God, you snore like a pig. Also, Izzy found out about the movie night you tricked me into — she's mad at YOU!
"Austin!!!" Akira groaned, flopping back onto the couch dramatically. In her half-sleepy roll, she slipped and hit the floor with a loud thud.
"Ugh," she muttered, face-down on the carpet.
She got up, gathered the blanket, and began tidying the living room. For the first time in a long while, she felt alive. That power nap had done wonders.
As the sun began to set, a new energy stirred in her. She cleaned her room while blasting music and dancing with her headphones in. She watered her dad's plants, rearranged her desk, and even found herself humming along to a random playlist.
Finally, as the light outside turned golden and the sky grew cloudy, she decided to go for a walk near the park. The weather was just her kind — a cool breeze, clouds hanging low, and the hypnotic smell of wet mud after an earlier drizzle.
She tucked a book into her tote bag, popped in her earphones, and set off — unaware of what waited in the shadows.
She tried calling Austin, but he didn't answer. So she left a voice note:
"Well, thanks a lot, Aus — for yesterday. I really needed that. And by the way, I did not snore like a pig. I was gently exhaling in rhythm with the ghosts, thank you very much.
Anyway, I'm heading to the park for some fresh air and mental recovery. If you and Izzy wanna come over tonight, we can finally have that movie night without me dozing off mid-scream. Fingers crossed.
Okay, love you — call me when you get this.
Unless Izzy already killed you for ditching her… in which case, I call dibs on your hoodie collection. Byeee!"
Akira sat on a quiet park bench, feeling lighter than she had in days.
Headphones in, her eyes scanned the pages of her book while "The Night We Met" played softly in her ears. The cool breeze, the smell of wet mud, and the fading daylight made everything feel calm — too calm.
She was so focused, she didn't realize it was already past 8 PM.
With a sigh, she packed up her things and began her walk home.
But peace, she would soon learn, was short-lived.
As she passed a narrow alley, something caught her attention — a hiss. Low and wet. She froze for a second but quickly shook it off and kept walking, not daring to look back.
Just a sound. Probably a cat... or trash… or something normal.
She was only a few blocks from home.
Then something stepped out in front of her.
Huge. Misshapen. Towering.
Its body was twisted — half-dog, half-wolf, with limbs that stretched too far and skin that shimmered like smoke. Its mouth split into a grin, too many teeth gleaming in the dark.
Akira froze. A cold sweat trickled down her neck.
Then it screamed — a shriek so loud and unnatural it rattled her bones.
She stumbled back, took two steps — and ran.
She dashed into the alley without thinking, her heart hammering in her chest.
"Brothers, let her run," one of the demons hissed behind her, its voice jagged and gleeful. "Let's have some fun."
Two of them followed. One loped behind her like a starving beast; another darted alongside the buildings, staying just within her peripheral vision.
Akira's breath caught in her throat. She didn't know what to do — her phone was useless, and she couldn't scream. No one would hear her here.
She turned a corner—
—and the largest demon landed right in front of her, blocking her path. Its breath was thick with rot.
She was surrounded.
Panic surged in her chest, but then—
A blast of white light shot through the alley, striking one of the demons and knocking it back into the wall with a furious snarl.
Akira blinked, shocked.
She dropped into a defensive stance, not even knowing what she was doing — just following instinct.
The demons laughed. One stepped forward and sneered, "You think you can fight us, little girl?"
Akira clenched her fists. Her whole body buzzed with heat — with something rising inside her.
"I will," she said through gritted teeth.
And suddenly — as if her body remembered something her mind didn't — a surge of light burst from her hands, brilliant and blinding, slamming into the creature's chest and sending it sprawling.
Akira didn't wait to see what happened next. She ran, ducking into an empty alley, heart pounding, light still sparking at her fingertips.
She didn't know what had just happened.
But something had awakened.
Rain began to fall, light at first, then steady.
Raindrops trickled down Akira's face as she crouched behind a stack of crates, trying to still her trembling breath.
She could hear them — the low hisses, the wet footsteps. The demons were still out there, searching.
She pressed a hand to her mouth and stayed hidden, praying they wouldn't find her.
Then came the thunder. A loud crack tore through the sky, and lightning followed, illuminating the alley in sharp flashes.
Not far away, a demon snarled, crouched low as it stalked an unaware human.
"Flesh…" it growled.
Just as it lunged, a glowing arrow whistled through the rain and struck it in the chest. The demon let out a high-pitched screech before vanishing into black mist.
"Nice shot, Ash!" Kyros called out, standing beside Alaric, sword already drawn.
"This isn't the time, Kyros," Alaric said coolly, eyes scanning the alley. "There are more."
And he was right.
The first demon's scream had drawn others. They emerged from the shadows, encircling the two warriors with twisted grins and gleaming teeth.
"Well then," Kyros muttered with a smirk, twirling his sword, "let's send them back to where they came from… Hell."
His eyes gleamed with excitement as he lunged forward.
The fight began in a flurry of motion and steel. Kyros moved like a storm — wild, fast, impossible to follow. Alaric was the opposite: calm, precise, deadly.
The two separated, chasing down the demons as they scattered through the rain-slicked alleyways.
Akira's breathing was shallow. Rain fell harder now, soaking through her clothes, but she didn't care. She crouched behind a dumpster, clutching her side where she'd scraped it during her fall. The alley was cold, shadows stretching in every direction, and the hissing from the demons still echoed in her ears.
She peered around the corner.
Nothing.
Maybe they gave up.
Or maybe they were just waiting.
She took a shaky breath and stepped out carefully. One foot, then another. Just get to the street. Almost there.
And then — a low snarl behind her.
Akira turned and saw a smaller, fast-moving demon leap at her from the shadows. Her eyes widened. Her body froze.
But before it could reach her — THWACK — a blast of bright blue energy slammed into the creature, flinging it against the alley wall with a disgusting crunch.
Akira flinched.
Someone landed in front of her. A figure — tall, with a long coat and a ponytail and twin swords strapped across his back. He didn't look back at her. Instead, he kept his focus on the creature that was already disintegrating into black ash.
"Go," he said sharply, his voice low but firm.
Akira blinked. "Wha—?"
"I said go!"
And that was all she needed.
Heart racing, she turned and ran. Water splashed under her feet as she darted between buildings, never once looking back. She didn't see the stranger glance over his shoulder, confused by the strange, flickering energy still clinging to her footsteps.
Kyros narrowed his eyes. "Who…?"
Before he could move after her, a guttural roar echoed across the alley, and two or three demons came rushing toward Kyros.
Meanwhile, Akira was running blindly through the rain until she suddenly skidded to a stop — a dead end.
A wall.
Her heart dropped. That's it, she thought. It's over. I don't know what they want, but I'm done here.
Thud!
A heavy form landed behind her. She turned, breath catching in her throat, and saw the big demon standing there, smiling with rows of jagged teeth.
"What do you want?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.
The demon grinned wider. "What I want… that depends on you."
He started moving toward her, slow and confident. Akira backed away, raising her hands instinctively. Then, without thinking, she struck out again — that same strange white force burst from her palms, pushing him back a step.
But it wasn't enough.
Her eyes darted around in panic — and then she saw it. A broken steel pipe is lying near the wall.
She dodged the demon's clawed hand with a reflex she didn't know she had, snatched up the pipe, and swung.
Clang!
The hit landed — hard.
The demon screeched and turned toward her with fury. They began to fight. Akira kept swinging, dodging, and hitting, every move faster than she thought herself capable of. It felt natural. Too natural.
How am I doing this? she wondered. What is this?
But it wasn't enough. The pipe couldn't finish the job. She was tired. Her breath came in shallow gasps. Her arms ached. Her vision blurred.
And then—
A sound.
A whistle.
Soft. Faint. Familiar.
Her mind reeled. That lullaby… I've heard it before…
The whistle grew louder — and louder — until it echoed like a scream in her skull. She dropped to her knees, clutching her ears, the pipe clattering to the ground. Rain soaked her hair and skin, but she barely noticed.
Then—
FWOOSH.
A red flame tore through the alley, slamming into the demon and sending it flying backward into the wall with a crash.
Akira blinked through the haze and saw a pair of calm, bare feet standing before her.
She looked up slowly.
A woman stood over her — tall, powerful, wearing a flowing black and red robe. Her silver-white eyes burned like stars in the dark.
Akira's lips parted in confusion, but her body gave out before she could speak. She collapsed.
"Well done, my children," Ursula said softly, eyes still fixed on the wounded demon.
The demons nearby bowed their heads.
"Now," she added coldly, "finish those little foxes. They're becoming… annoying."
Then, without another word, Ursula lifted Akira into her arms — and vanished into the darkness.
The heavy rainfall starts with thunder strikes and winds.
—
Austin stepped out of the shower, towel slung over his shoulder, phone buzzing on the counter. He wiped the steam from the screen and saw Akira's voice note.
1 New Voice Message
He smiled, already expecting something dramatic.
He pressed play.
"Well, thanks a lot, Aus — for yesterday. I really needed that.
And by the way, I did not snore like a pig — I exhaled rhythmically like a ghost, thank you very much.
Anyway, I'm heading to the park for some fresh air and mental recovery.
If you and Izzy wanna come over tonight, we can finally have that movie date without me dozing off mid-scream. Fingers crossed.
Okay, love you — call me when you get this. Unless Izzy already killed you for ditching her, in which case... I call dibs on your hoodie collection.
Byeee!"
He chuckled, shaking his head.
"Silly," he muttered fondly, already hitting Call.
It rang.
And rang.
No answer.
He frowned, dialed again.
Still nothing.
A third time.
Now his smile dropped completely.
He stared at the screen, his heart starting to beat faster than he wanted to admit.
"Come on, Akira... pick up."
He grabbed his hoodie, yanked it in mid-step as he left the house, and started running.
His fingers fumbled to open the tracker app he secretly installed on her phone a while ago — just a light safety thing, a precaution she had jokingly agreed to.
Her location pinged.
Near the park... last active 34 minutes ago.
But then the dot froze.
No movement.
Signal lost.
Austin's stomach twisted.
He didn't even stop to grab his shoes.
His breath was sharp as he ran harder in the rain. He didn't care about the rain, muttering to himself.
"Please be okay… please be okay…"
The rain hadn't stopped. Cold droplets lashed against Austin's skin as he sprinted through the streets, breath ragged, heart racing.
He had played Akira's voice note a dozen times. Her voice had been cheerful, teasing. She had no idea what was coming.
"Come on, pick up… pick up…" he muttered, jabbing the call button again. Straight to voicemail.
Panic fully gripped him now. His fingers trembled as he opened her location tracker. A blinking blue dot. Then it stopped. An alley near the east side park.
He didn't think so. He just ran.
***
In the alley, the trio had already taken down the smaller demons. Only one remained — the largest, snarling, looming in the dark mist.
"Rohana sent a bunch of kids to kill me?" the demon snarled, laughing. "So weak…"
"These kids are enough to shut your dumb mouth," Kyros shot back, spinning into motion.
Alaric met the creature head-on. With a flash of silver, his blade slashed across its chest, staggering it. The demon roared, jaws snapping inches from Kyros — until Kyros drove his sword deep into its side.
Ashley's eyes glowed. She stepped forward, palm blazing with runes.
"Oh yeah," she whispered, pressing her hand to the demon's head. A radiant sigil lit up beneath her touch.
The demon screamed, its body writhing in shadow before it crumbled into ash and smoke.
Silence.
Their breaths came heavy in the misty night air. Rain tapped softly against the ground.
Then —
"Wait," Alaric said, freezing.
He stepped over the remains and knelt near a pile of broken crates and wet debris.
From it, he pulled out a green tote bag.
The initials on it were unmistakable.
AKIRA.
A beat later, a voice tore through the night.
"WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER?!"
Austin's voice cracked with raw panic as he sprinted into the alley, his hair soaked, his eyes wide and wild.
He saw the bag in Alaric's hands — and his heart shattered.
He stumbled to a stop, chest heaving.
"Where is she?" His voice broke. "Where is Akira?"