The courtyard shook as the voices of Central Forces grew closer—boots slamming through puddles, mana-charged rifles humming, drones sweeping overhead like searching eyes in the sky.
Blinkstep crouched low, whispering sharply.
"Okay, okay, okay—we're dead. We're actually dead. No exits, no cover, no speed route—Titanborn, buddy, smash a wall. Smash ANY wall!"
Titanborn clenched his fists, but he hesitated.
For the first time in his life…
he wasn't sure brute force was enough.
Mindwright pressed his hand to the cracked concrete, jaw tight.
"They're closing from three angles. Searchlight density increasing. We have maybe—"
A drone's beam swept over the far wall, blinding him.
"—ten seconds."
Arc stood perfectly still.
The puppet dangled limp from his grip, rain dripping off its smiling face.
Arc didn't speak.
Didn't move.
Titanborn snapped.
"Arc! If you've got a plan, spit it out!"
Arc whispered:
"He's still here."
Blinkstep's face twisted. "How do you even KNOW that—?!"
Mindwright froze.
Because Arc wasn't looking around.
He wasn't tracking shadows.
He wasn't analyzing movement.
He was listening.
To something else.
To his puppet.
Arc raised his head.
"He never left."
Titanborn bared his teeth. "Then where—"
A faint metallic crack sounded.
The left-side rooftop crumbled.
Something had struck it from above—fast.
Blinkstep flinched.
"That wasn't a drone shot…"
Mindwright's breath hitched.
"No. That was a thrown object."
Arc tightened his grip on the puppet's strings.
A signal.
He whispered:
"Right wall. Break it."
Titanborn didn't question him.
He slammed his fist into the stone.
The wall shattered in one blow—
but it didn't fully collapse.
Because something was wedged inside.
A knife.
Driven deep.
Perfectly placed.
The exact point needed to destabilize the structure.
Titanborn stumbled back.
"He… he marked the weak spot."
Mindwright whispered:
"He scouted this escape route before we even got here."
Blinkstep's voice cracked.
"He's planning FOR us."
The wall collapsed fully.
Behind it—a narrow maintenance shaft leading downward, lit faintly by guttering emergency lights.
Arc stepped inside first.
The puppet whispered softly:
"He wants us alive."
Mindwright shivered.
"That's… not comforting."
Titanborn glanced at the hole.
"…We going?"
Blinkstep pushed him. "YES, YOU IDIOT!"
They slipped down the shaft, one by one, just as troops poured into the courtyard behind them.
Shouts echoed.
"Search the perimeter!"
"Suspects must be underground!"
"Drone sweep sector seven!"
Titanborn slid last, sealing the grate behind them.
The darkness swallowed them whole.
And for a moment—
only the dripping pipes and echoing footsteps filled the underground tunnel.
Arc walked ahead silently, puppet resting lightly against his chest.
Mindwright exhaled shakily.
"I don't understand him."
Titanborn growled. "He's messing with us. Playing games."
Blinkstep whispered:
"No… games don't feel like THAT."
Mindwright adjusted his glasses.
"He could've let Central Forces catch Arc.
Could've let us get boxed.
Could've killed Titanborn easy."
Titanborn grunted.
"Thanks for the reminder."
Blinkstep kicked a pebble.
"Honestly? Feels like he's… training us."
Titanborn shoved him. "Don't say that."
Mindwright's voice was barely audible.
"…It fits the pattern."
Arc halted.
The three froze behind him.
"…Arc?" Mindwright whispered.
Arc finally spoke, soft, quiet, but heavy as thunder:
"He's preparing me."
Titanborn's heartbeat hammered.
"For what?"
Arc turned slightly.
For the first time since meeting Elias, Arc's eyes showed something new—
not fear, not curiosity…
Recognition.
"…For when he comes back to kill me."
Titanborn's stomach dropped.
Blinkstep stopped breathing.
Mindwright whispered:
"That's… insane."
Arc continued walking.
"No."
His puppet giggled darkly.
"It's inevitable."