jayjay pov
The night air felt heavier the deeper we drove.
Three cars moved in a tight line through the empty industrial zone, headlights cutting across cracked concrete and rusted fences. The air smelled like old metal and sea salt.
Adrian's voice came through the walkie.
"Ciel says the signal's close. Just one more block."
Keifer's grip tightened on the steering wheel.
I could see it — the worry in his eyes, the anger hiding just below the surface.
We turned the corner and stopped.
A dark warehouse stood there, silent but alive — its broken windows glowing faintly from inside.
Shapes moved in the shadows.
People.
Dozens of them — holding bats, sticks, metal rods — like a wall of warning waiting for us.
I swallowed hard.
"Uh, Keifer?" I whispered. "I just remembered… we don't have any weapons."
Ciel, from Adrian's car, let out a small nervous laugh through the comms.
"Good observation, Jayjay. Maybe we can scare them with our GPA."
Before I could roll my eyes, Adrian's voice cut in, calm and smug.
"Who says we don't?"
He popped open his trunk — and there they were.
Metal bats, short sticks, and even a few self-defense tools gleaming under the light.
Everyone stared at him.
"Adrian," Cien said, half impressed, half horrified, "why do you have a mini armory in your car?"
"Field trip preparation," Adrian replied, smirking. "You never know when people with sticks might ruin your day."
Even in the middle of tension, a few of us chuckled.
We armed up, one by one — Keifer handed me a smaller stick, his fingers brushing mine for just a second.
"Stay close, okay?" he said softly.
"You too," I whispered back.
Then we moved.
The sound of boots hitting the ground echoed across the lot as Section E advanced.
When we reached the entrance, Adrian kicked the door open.
The metal groaned, and cold air burst out — carrying dust, oil, and something else… fear.
Inside, Keagan stood at the center of the warehouse.
His eyes were blank, his stance stiff — like a puppet waiting for orders.
"Keagan!" Keifer shouted, voice breaking through the noise.
No response.
He didn't blink. He didn't move.
Then a slow, cruel voice came from behind the shadows.
"You're wasting your energy, son."
A tall man stepped into the light — Keifer's father.
His eyes gleamed with the same sharpness Keifer had, but darker, emptier.
"He can't hear you," the man said, smiling faintly. "He's mine now."
"Dad…" Keifer's voice trembled with rage. "What did you do to him?"
"What you were too weak to do," his father replied coldly. "I taught him obedience."
Keifer didn't wait. He charged.
And that was the spark.
The warehouse exploded into chaos.
Felix swung his bat first, knocking down one of the thugs rushing in. Rory grabbed a metal rod midair, spinning it back toward another. Drew and Blaster fought side-by-side, covering Cien's left flank. Calix and David moved fast, every hit landing with precision.
The sounds of metal clashing, boots scraping, and grunts filled the air.
Section E was a storm — unpredictable and unstoppable.
Meanwhile, Ciel and I ran to Keagan.
He was murmuring something under his breath — his pupils unfocused, lips pale.
"Keagan, it's us!" I said, shaking his shoulder.
"Come on, wake up," Ciel added, tapping his face gently.
But he didn't flinch.
Then suddenly, one of the thugs behind us lunged forward, swinging a bat.
Ciel reacted instantly — twisting low, sweeping his leg.
I followed, spinning and smacking the man's side with the stick Keifer gave me.
He fell, hard.
Another tried to grab Ciel's arm, but I kicked the crate beside us, slamming it against his knee.
He collapsed too.
The warehouse went quiet for a moment.
"That's my girlfriend!" Keifer yelled from across the room.
"And that's my sister!" Adrian added proudly, still throwing punches.
Even in the chaos, that made everyone grin.
We went back to Keagan.
Ciel pressed her palm over his forehead, whispering softly.
Then his eyes flickered — just once.
"Keagan!" I called again, louder this time.
He blinked.
But before I could celebrate, everything froze.
Keifer's father had moved.
And then —
Stab.
A sharp sound cut through the noise.
Keifer gasped, his knees hitting the ground, his hand gripping his shoulder — blood already spreading down his sleeve.
"Keifer!" I screamed.
The Section E boys turned instantly, but by the time they looked, most of the attackers were gone — vanished into the dark, leaving only the echo of footsteps and laughter.
His father stood there, the knife still in hand, a smirk twisting his face.
"You always were too soft," he said, before stepping back slowly.
I ran to Keifer, dropping beside him.
My hands trembled as I pressed against his wound, but something wet seeped through faster than I could stop it.
"Hey, stay with me," I whispered, my voice cracking.
He tried to speak, but no words came out — just a faint exhale, warm and weak.
Then my vision blurred.
The last thing I saw was the blood on my hands — and the faint reflection of Keifer's father walking away, laughing into the dark.
And everything went black.