The alleyway was cold, the faint hum of the city just a few blocks away, but it might as well have been a thousand miles from the chaos they'd just survived. Alastor leaned heavily against the wall, his breath ragged, each inhale a battle as the agony from the Starbreaker tore through him. His powers, once his greatest asset, now felt like a distant memory—flickering faintly, teasing at his fingertips but impossible to grasp. His body was failing him, and the Starbreaker's curse was relentless, gnawing at him with every second that passed.
But he wasn't about to back down.
"You need to move," Jack said sharply, eyes darting toward the street, his voice laced with urgency. "They're closing in."
Emily's fists were still bloody from the earlier skirmish, her face flushed with exertion. She was barely holding herself together, pushing her limits to keep Alastor from collapsing. "We can't stay here much longer," she muttered, eyes narrowing as she scanned the shadows for movement.
Mr. Thompson's face was grim, his hands shaking slightly as he checked the condition of Alastor. "We need to get him out of here. Now." His eyes kept darting between Alastor and Rachel, as though he expected her to show up any second with a plan. But Rachel was already gone.
Alastor pushed himself off the wall, his legs barely holding him up. "I'm fine," he gritted, though the pain was eating him alive. "We need to keep moving. You... you all need to get to safety."
But the reality was setting in: they were overwhelmed. The cultists were too numerous, too skilled. Alastor could barely stand, much less fight, and they had no way of knowing when reinforcements would arrive.
Rachel's mind raced, her tactical mind snapping into place. She couldn't let them fall here. Not like this.
"Uncle," Rachel said quietly, her voice calm despite the storm in her eyes. "I'll handle this."
Mr. Thompson turned to her, confusion and worry in his eyes. "What are you talking about? You're not—"
"I'm a police officer, after all," she said, cutting him off with a steely look. "You'll be in more danger if you don't let me do this. It's the only way."
She saw the hesitation in his eyes, the fatherly concern for his niece, but he knew that she was right. She had the training. She had the mind for this.
Rachel took a breath, her gaze meeting each of them in turn. "Distract them. I'll buy you time."
Without waiting for a response, she turned on her heel, disappearing into the shadows. The others stood frozen for a moment, the weight of the decision hanging heavy in the air.
Alastor's heart pounded in his chest. He was helpless to stop her, but he couldn't help the surge of admiration for her determination. The pain in his body was almost unbearable, but he felt his resolve strengthen. Rachel was doing this for them. He couldn't let that be in vain.
As Rachel sprinted through the alley, she could hear the cultists' shouts growing louder, their pursuit swift. Her heart raced, adrenaline surging, but she kept her focus. She was the decoy, the distraction, the only hope to buy them an escape.
Behind her, Levanzo's voice rang out, low and cold. "You think you can escape me, little girl?"
Rachel's stomach twisted at the sound of his voice. She knew he would come for her. He always had his eyes on the most important targets, and now, she was one of them. The cultists, their faces hidden by masks, were relentless, and Rachel could hear them closing in.
A sudden burst of speed propelled her forward, her legs burning with the effort. She couldn't let them catch her—not yet. But Levanzo was gaining, his heavy footsteps echoing behind her, a chilling promise of what would happen when he caught up.
She darted around corners, trying to throw them off, but the cultists were relentless, their movements synchronized as they pursued her. And then, she saw him—Levanzo. His figure loomed ahead, his cold eyes locking onto hers with terrifying certainty.
"You can't run forever," he called out, his voice sending a chill down her spine.
Rachel gritted her teeth, refusing to show fear. She'd fought her whole life to protect others, and this—this was no different. She pushed herself harder, her body screaming with exhaustion, but the sound of Levanzo's voice was growing closer. She couldn't outrun him forever.
She turned sharply, desperate to make one last move. But before she could react, Levanzo was upon her, his strength overwhelming. His grip was like iron, and she was pulled back into his grasp, her heart sinking as she realized her chances had run out.
The cultists swarmed around her, subduing her with practiced ease. Her last thought before everything went black was that she had done it. She had bought them time.
As the cultists took Rachel, the others made their move. Jack gave a sharp whistle, signaling to Emily and Mr. Thompson to move quickly. "Go!" he barked, glancing over his shoulder as the cultists began to fan out, a few of them splitting off in search of the group.
Alastor, despite the blinding pain that nearly brought him to his knees, pushed forward, his movements shaky but determined. Mr. Thompson grabbed his arm, helping him stay upright. "We've got to get him to safety," he muttered, his eyes wild with concern.
Emily led the way, her eyes scanning the alley for any signs of danger. "Head to the subway," she said, pointing to a narrow stairwell leading down to the underground. "It's our best shot."
"Right," Jack said, his voice tight with tension. "Let's move."
They moved quickly, keeping low and quiet, but the chaos of the night hadn't ended. The sound of footsteps echoed from behind them, but they didn't dare look back. Every second felt like an eternity, but the subway was close—too close to turn back now.
Finally, they reached the stairwell. Mr. Thompson helped Alastor down the steps, his voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through his veins. "Stay with me, kid," he murmured, glancing up at Jack and Emily. "We're not out of the woods yet."
Jack nodded, keeping watch while Emily rushed to the bottom of the stairs, scanning the darkened subway platform for any signs of danger. "We're not safe until we're miles from here," she said. "Keep moving."
And so they did, as Rachel's sacrifice rang in their ears, her desperate act not only buying them time, but giving them a chance to survive the night.