The room went silent. Even Lumika stared at him, her usual cold expression softening for a split second.
Then the Commander laughed. It wasn't the laugh of someone entertained. It was the laugh of someone insulted.
"Your dream? That's adorable. You'll make a fine example when I hang you outside the deck."
Zal took a step forward, his jaw tightening. Lumika hissed at him to stop. "Do not even think about it!"
A faint echo brushed through the air.
The Commander stood up fully now. "Then let us see what your little dream is worth."
Zal charged toward the man on the throne without thinking. His heart was pounding and his body still shook from exhaustion.
The man stood slowly, holding two masks in his hands.
"So, you're the little rat who escaped," the man said, his tone calm but heavy with arrogance. "Do you even know what this is?" He raised the masks slightly, as if to mock him.
Zal clenched his fists. "That's mine! Give it back!"
The man smiled faintly and dropped the green mask to the ground. "Yours? You don't even understand what this is, boy."
Without warning, the man vanished from his spot and appeared right in front of Zal. His knee slammed into Zal's stomach, sending him flying back into a wall.
Zal gasped, the air knocked out of his lungs. He tried to stand, but the man appeared again, grabbing his collar and slamming him down. The floor cracked beneath him.
"Too weak," the man muttered, disappointed. "And you thought you could just take it?"
Lumika leaned against a pillar, watching the scene unfold.
"You really are hopeless, aren't you?" she said under her breath.
Zal tried to swing again, but his punches were sloppy, desperate. The man easily dodged each one and countered with brutal precision. Every impact echoed through the metallic hall.
"You're not even worth killing," the man said as he kicked Zal aside again.
Lumika's gaze shifted to the table beside the throne. A faint shimmer caught her eye.
One of the masks, a golden-orange, shaped like a fragment of the sun, was resting there.
She stared at it for a moment, feeling the faint hum of wind energy within.
My mask...
Her fingers itched.
Meanwhile, Zal struggled to stand again, blood dripping from his lip. He staggered forward, barely staying upright.
"I'm not done… not yet," he muttered, his eyes blazing with stubborn defiance.
Lumika sighed.
"Idiot," she whispered.
The man turned to her. "And you," he said coldly. "You must be the other escapee. Stay still, girl. You might live longer."
"Girl?" she said softly, tilting her head. "You'll regret saying that."
She walked over to the table and grabbed the golden-orange mask. As her fingers touched it, wind swirled around her wrist, wrapping her arm in a soft cyclone. She slid the mask onto her face, covering the left side.
Zal stared in disbelief. "You're just gonna stand there?"
Lumika looked at him and smiled. "I'll help you… but only if you say it."
"Say what?"
"Say please help me, Master Lumika."
Zal's eyes widened. "What? You're insane! This isn't the time for your stupid jokes!"
"No magic words, no help."
The man approached again, cracking his knuckles. "You two are a waste of breath."
Zal gritted his teeth, glaring at her. "Fine!" he shouted. "Please help me, Master Lumika!"
Her grin widened. "Good boy."
She lifted her hand, wind swirling like ribbons between her fingers. A sphere of compressed air formed in her palm, glowing faintly gold.
"Now watch closely," she said. "This is how a real Drifter fights."
She threw the sphere. It shot forward like a cannonball, leaving a sharp crack in the air.
The man raised his sword, a Sky Blade glowing with white wind energy. "You think that'll—"
The sphere tore straight through the blade's wind layer, slicing the steel in half. The remaining force grazed past his cheek, cutting a few strands of his hair before bursting against the wall behind him.
The man froze, eyes wide. The wall hissed from the lingering pressure of the strike.
Zal's jaw dropped. "What… what was that?"
Lumika looked at him, her half-masked face gleaming with a proud smirk. "That," she said, "was your Master saving your life."
Then—
"HAHAHAHA"
The man's laughter filled the hall. His calm expression twisted into a snarl as veins pulsed at his temple.
"You dare touch a Mask you don't understand," he said, voice trembling with fury. "Then watch what true strength looks like."
He crushed the white mask against his face. It shattered, then reformed around his features in a jagged, crystalline shape.
Wind burst from his body like a shockwave, sending cracks through the throne behind him. The pressure alone forced Zal to stumble back.
"Run if you value your life," Lumika muttered, stepping forward. Her orange mask glimmered, and air gathered around her feet.
"I don't run," Zal said.
The commander grinned and then lunged. His movements were almost invisible, his steps cutting through the floor with every strike.
Lumika blocked his first blow with a burst of air from her palm, the impact shaking the entire chamber.
"Fast," she said, teeth clenched.
The man laughed and swung again. Lumika leapt aside, twisting in midair as she struck with her heel.
Her kick sent a compressed wave of air that sliced across the floor, but the man twisted through it, slamming his fist into the wall where she had been.
Wind and dust exploded everywhere.
Lumika rolled and struck again. Her movements flowed like rhythm.
Each time she moved, her wind repeated her previous strike a heartbeat later. When she dodged left, another phantom burst of air dodged with her, mimicking her shape.
The commander noticed it. "Interesting trick," he said, parrying one of her wind echoes. "But you'll need more than that."
He dashed in again, his arm glowing white. Lumika met him head-on, her strikes colliding with his, wind clashing with wind.
Zal stumbled behind them, shielding his face from the pressure. His gaze fell to the floor where the green mask lay.
"Severus," he whispered.
He ran for it, his fingers trembling as he picked it up. The dragon's face shimmered faintly under the light. "Severus! Come on, wake up!"
There was no answer.
He gripped it tighter. "You said we'd fly together. You said you were real. So where are you now?"
The man's mocking laughter cut through the noise. "Talking to your toy while your friend dies? How pathetic."
Zal looked up. Lumika was struggling now, blood at her lip. The commander's mask pulsed with violent gusts of power, his attacks doubling in speed.
Lumika was still fighting, still taunting him despite the bruises.
"You hit like a child," she spat, dodging a blow.
But when another invisible strike slammed into her, she flew back and crashed beside Zal.
She coughed and propped herself up on one arm. "You're still holding that mask?" she said between breaths. "You really believed that dragon nonsense was real?"
Zal stared at her, speechless. His hands were shaking.
"Wake up," she muttered, eyes half-lidded. "You were tricked. That thing isn't yours. You don't even understand what a Mask is."
Her words cut deeper than any strike. The memory of the white realm, the voice of Severus, the shared dream.
They all felt so vivid. But now, as he looked at the lifeless mask, doubt began to consume him.
Was all of that… fake?
The commander walked toward them, his blade of air forming once more. "Two little dreamers," he said. "Let me end both your delusions."
Zal's knuckles tightened around the mask, but his heart trembled. The wind no longer answered him.
The commander's boots scraped against the metal floor as he advanced, each step heavier than the last.
Lumika forced herself to stand, blood trickling down her chin, but her breathing was rough. She barely had enough strength to summon another burst of wind.
Zal stayed on his knees. His vision blurred. His fingers trembled. The green mask lay in his hands as if mocking him for ever believing it was alive.
Was it really all a dream?
He saw flashes in his mind.
The day his parents left, his sister's tired smile, the ruined town, and the promise he made to open the gates.
No… I can't stop here.
Zal clenched his jaw. The world could call him foolish, but he would rather die chasing his dream than live without it.
He lifted the mask slowly.
"Zal, stop!" Lumika shouted, her voice echoing in panic. "That thing almost killed you last time! If it rejects you again, you'll die!"
He didn't answer. He pressed the mask closer, feeling the chill seep into his skin.
"Idiot! You're not ready!" she yelled, taking a step forward before the commander blocked her path.
Zal's heart pounded. His breathing grew uneven. He remembered his father's hand on his head, his mother's soft voice, and their words:
Dreams are the wind that lift us, Zaly.
He whispered, "Then let this wind lift me."
And he put the mask on.
A violent gust exploded outward. The air screamed.
The floor cracked beneath him as wind spiraled around his body, lifting debris into a storm.
Lumika covered her face with her arm, shouting his name through the roar. The commander stumbled back, the force slicing through his coat.
Zal's body shook violently as green lines spread across the mask, lighting up one by one like veins igniting.
His lungs burned as if he were breathing lightning.
You again…
The voice came faintly.
"Severus?" he gasped.
The dragon's voice rumbled through the air, weak yet alive. You called me through doubt itself… Foolish child of wind.
Zal smiled through the pain. "Then let's fly again."
And the mask roared.