Power 5. Two of them. Working together.
I'm going to die. I'm actually going to die here.
His hands trembled slightly. He clenched them into fists, hiding it.
Another beautiful day, he thought, but this time the irony tasted like ash. This wasn't confidence. This was terror dressed up in a smile because what else could he do? Give up? Run?
No. Raphaël needed ninety seconds. So Elias would give him ninety seconds, even if it killed him.
Which it probably would.
"Johnny! Kael!" Elias called out to the other disciples. They were standing near Serra, shell-shocked but conscious. "I need you!"
"What?" Johnny's voice was strained. "Elias, we're Awakened. They're—"
"I know what they are!" Elias snapped. Then, forcing calm: "I'm not asking you to fight them. I'm asking you to help me be annoying. Can you do annoying?"
Kael—the quiet one—actually smiled. "I can do annoying."
"Good." Elias's mind raced. Ninety seconds. Against impossible odds. He needed strategy, not strength. "This manor is full of furniture, right? Heavy stuff?"
"...Yes?" Johnny looked confused.
"Start throwing it. Not at them—they'll just tank it. Throw it to create obstacles. Block their movement. Force them to navigate around things. Slow them down."
Understanding dawned. "You want us to turn the manor into a maze."
"Exactly." Elias looked at the bearers. They were watching this exchange with mild curiosity, like adults watching children plan a game. "And keep moving. Don't stay in one place. Don't let them touch you. If you can throw something that makes noise in a different room, do it. Distraction. Confusion."
"That's..." Kael's eyes widened. "That's how you hunt demons in the Trial. When you're outmatched. You don't fight—you survive."
"Three years taught me well." Elias forced a grin. His heart was hammering. "Raphaël, you've got your ninety seconds. We'll make it a maze. Make it annoying. Make them work for every step."
"And you?" Raphaël asked, beginning to trace the first pattern in the air.
"Me?" Elias's golden fire flickered around his fists. Not confident. Desperate. "I'm going to do what I did in the Trial when something too strong found me. I'm going to run. And dodge. And not die. Probably."
"Probably?" Johnny's voice cracked.
"Would you prefer I lie?" Elias met Darius's dead eyes. Saw the inevitable death there. The slow, certain approach. "I fought a Class 3 bearer before. Gregor. He was weaker than these two. And when he got serious, I lost. Badly. The only reason I'm alive is because Maren arrived."
"Then how—"
"Because I didn't fight him directly. I annoyed him. I ran. I dodged. I made him chase me." Elias's voice dropped. "And I learned. I learned that when you're outmatched, you don't win. You just... don't lose. Yet."
Darius tilted his head. "You're afraid."
"Terrified," Elias admitted honestly. His permanent smile felt like a mask now. A lie. But he kept it anyway. "You could kill me with a touch. Both of you. I'm Awakened. You're Class 3 bearers with power 5. The math isn't in my favor."
"Then why not run?" Matthias asked, genuinely curious.
"Because my friend needs ninety seconds." Elias's golden fire blazed brighter. Not from confidence. From stubborn refusal to quit. "And I'm too stupid to know when to give up."
"Go!"
Everything happened at once.
Johnny grabbed a heavy oak chair and hurled it—not at the bearers, but sideways, creating a barrier between Darius and Raphaël.
Kael did the same with a table, flipping it onto its side.
Elias moved.
Not toward the bearers—away. He sprinted for the door, golden fire trailing from his feet.
"Running?" Darius's voice held amusement.
"Surviving!" Elias shot back, darting through the doorway into the manor's corridor.
Matthias followed. That slow, inevitable approach. But the corridor was narrow. Furniture cluttered it. He had to navigate around a fallen chair, a side table, debris.
It slowed him. Just a little. Just enough.
Elias kept running. His mind counting. Five seconds. Eighty-five to go.
He grabbed a decorative vase from a stand and threw it behind him—not to hurt, but to distract. It shattered. Matthias paused for half a second to look at it.
Seven seconds. Eighty-three to go.
"You can't run forever!" Matthias called out.
"Don't need forever!" Elias dove through another doorway, into what looked like a dining room. "Just need ninety seconds!"
Johnny appeared from a side room, saw Matthias approaching, and shoved a massive china cabinet across the doorway.
"Go, Elias! I'll—"
"Don't engage!" Elias grabbed Johnny's arm, pulled him along. "We're not fighting! We're being obstacles!"
They ran together. Through the dining room, into a parlor, back toward the main room where Raphaël was working.
Fifteen seconds. Seventy-five to go.
Darius was there, blocking the doorway back. That emotionless smile. "Clever. But pointless."
"Story of my life," Elias gasped. His lungs burning. His fear a living thing in his chest. "Johnny, left! Split up!"
They split. Darius reached for Johnny—
Kael appeared from nowhere, threw a lamp. Not at Darius—past him, through a window. Glass shattered. The noise made Darius turn, reflexive.
Johnny escaped past him.
Twenty seconds. Seventy to go.
Elias was back in the main room. Raphaël's pattern was maybe one-fifth complete. Geometric shapes beginning to form, but so slowly.
"Talk to them!" Raphaël hissed. "Keep them distracted! Talking slows them down!"
Right. The confident banter. The humor. The mask.
Matthias entered the room. Darius from another door. Pincer movement.
Elias's heart hammered. They're coordinating. Of course they're coordinating. I'm going to die.
But he kept smiling. Kept the terror locked behind his teeth.
"Hey!" Elias cupped his hands around his mouth. "Quick question—do you guys ever move fast? Like, is that physically possible? Or has the sloth thing locked you into permanent slow-motion?"
Darius tilted his head. "Are you... mocking us?"
"Little bit, yeah." Elias began to circle. Keep moving. Never stop moving. Never let them corner him. "I mean, don't get me wrong, the whole 'inevitable approach' thing is terrifying. Really sells the unstoppable force vibe. But practically speaking, you're both moving like my grandma after Sunday dinner."
Thirty seconds. Sixty to go.
Matthias's smile finally faded. "You think this is funny?"
"I think," Elias said, circling wider, "that you're so busy being scary and dramatic that you forgot the first rule of combat: velocity matters."
He moved.
Not at them. Around them. Elias sprinted in a wide arc, golden fire trailing from his feet, and began running circles around the brothers.
Literally. Full circles.
His lungs screamed. His legs burned. But he kept running.
Forty seconds. Fifty to go.
"What are you—" Darius turned to follow. That slow, inevitable turn. "What is the point of—"
"Point is," Elias called out, voice ragged, "you can't catch what you can't predict!"
He changed direction mid-stride. Reversed. Now running the other way.
Johnny threw another chair from a doorway. It clattered between the bearers and Elias.
Kael threw a candelabra. It crashed. Flames scattered.
The manor was becoming chaos. Furniture everywhere. Fires starting. Obstacles forcing the bearers to navigate, to think, to move slowly through the maze.
Fifty seconds. Forty to go.
Elias was gasping now. His stamina draining. He'd been fighting for—how long? The Class 4s, then this. His body was at its limit.
I can't keep this up. Thirty-five more seconds. I can't—
Matthias lunged. That space-collapsing inevitability. His hand should have caught Elias.
But Elias wasn't there.
He'd jumped. Straight up. Ten feet into the air—golden fire erupting from his feet like jets—and soared over Matthias's head.
The effort made his vision blur. Too much. Burning too much energy.
He landed badly. Stumbled. Nearly fell.
Sixty seconds. Thirty to go.
"You're slowing down," Darius observed. "Tiring. How much longer can you—"
Elias grabbed a chair—his hands shaking from exhaustion—and threw it. Not at Darius. Above him. So it would come down on his head.
Darius didn't dodge. Just stood there and endured. The chair shattered against his spiritual barrier.
But it made him look up. Which meant he wasn't looking forward.
Elias charged low. Came in under his sight line. His target wasn't Darius himself—it was the space beneath him.
He slid on his knees—baseball style, golden fire trailing—and as he passed beneath where Darius stood, he drove both palms into the floor.
BOOM.
Fire erupted upward. Enveloped Darius in golden light.
The bearer screamed. Actually screamed.
Seventy seconds. Twenty to go.
Elias came out of the slide, rolled to his feet. His vision was spotty. His hands trembling. Almost there. Come on. Twenty seconds. Twenty seconds.
"You—" Matthias's voice was furious. "Enough!"
The temperature in the room dropped. Instantly. Frost formed on every surface.
And the weight.
Elias's knees buckled. His legs trembled. Every muscle screaming to just stop. Just rest.
No. No, not yet. Fifteen seconds. Just fifteen—
"ELIAS!"
Raphaël's voice cut through.
"Don't. Let. Them. Win!"
Elias gritted his teeth. Forced his legs to straighten. "I'm... not... done yet!"
He ignited. Full body. Every inch of him wreathed in golden fire.
The effort nearly made him collapse. This was everything he had left. Every drop of stamina. Every ounce of will.
Ten seconds. Just ten. Please.
"You're remarkable," Darius said. Almost genuine admiration. "All that effort. All that will. But you're at your limit. We can see it. One more push and you'll break."
"Maybe," Elias gasped. His full-body flame flickering. "But... you'll... have to... catch me first..."
Five seconds.
"DONE!"
Raphaël's voice rang out. Clear. Absolute. Triumphant.
Elias looked.
The pattern was complete.