Blood dripped onto weathered parchment, staining ancient words with fresh crimson. The young warrior's chest heaved with labored breaths that echoed through the pitch-black cave. His fingers trembled against the leather-bound tome, its first page illuminated by a single shaft of moonlight piercing through a crack in the stone ceiling.
Steel scraped against stone as his sword arm wavered, the blade's tip scratching patterns into the floor. His eyes, though open, saw nothing of the darkness surrounding him. Instead, they gazed into some distant realm beyond the physical world, fixed on visions only he could perceive.
Sweat mingled with blood on his brow, trickling down to join the growing pool beneath him. The book's pages rustled in a nonexistent breeze, yet he made no move to still them. Time seemed to flow differently here - seconds stretched into eternities while hours compressed into heartbeats.
His lips moved in silent communion with unseen forces, forming words that held no sound. The sword in his grip pulsed with a dull blue glow, responding to whatever force had captured his consciousness.
The chamber remained still, save for his ragged breathing and the steady drip of blood onto ancient pages. Whatever battle had led him here was long finished, leaving only its aftermath - a warrior caught between worlds, neither fully present nor completely gone.
* * *
I lowered my sword, wiping sweat from my brow as Alfred nodded in approval. These past weeks had transformed our daily training sessions into a rhythm I'd grown to appreciate. Alfred became more a family for me and he knew a lot of my secrets already.
"Your form's improving." Alfred collected the practice weapons. "Though I suspect your mind's elsewhere."
He wasn't wrong. September's network of contacts had grown impressively, each deal bringing us closer to undermining Brick's operation. The kid had a gift for finding the right pressure points in the underworld's economy.
"Did you hear about Julia and Anna?" I grabbed a towel, hiding my smile. "They've been working together on tracking those missing children. Anna told me they spent an entire evening sharing stories about August and me."
A crash from upstairs interrupted Alfred's response. August's voice boomed through the halls.
"Another day of waiting! When do we actually fight?"
January's calm reply filtered down. "Patience. Our network's almost ready."
I'd caught glimpses of January's tactical maps, spread across his study walls like a spider's web. Each marker represented another piece of Brick's empire we'd slowly begun to dismantle.
The soft notes of December's piano drifted through the mansion - a stark contrast to the tension building in our ranks. He seemed to be the only one truly at peace with our methodical approach.
"Tusk's old war buddies came through," I told Alfred, remembering my last visit to Keifi. "They've got eyes on every street corner in the district now. Brick can't move without us knowing."
The pieces were falling into place, slower than August would like, but with a certainty that even he couldn't argue against. We'd built something in these weeks - not just a plan, but a coalition. People who remembered me, people who trusted September's word, people who believed in Anna's cause. Together, we were becoming something Brick couldn't ignore.
"How's your wind magic coming along?" Alfred wiped down his sword with practiced care.
I stretched my arms, feeling the familiar strain of unused power beneath my skin. "Still can't unleash it properly. The magic's there - I can feel it burning inside me, but it's like hitting a wall every time I try to let it out."
Alfred set his blade aside, his blue eyes studying me with that penetrating gaze that seemed to see right through me. "Perhaps the barrier isn't in your body at all, Mister March."
"What do you mean?"
"The mind and magic are deeply connected. Sometimes, when we can't access our full potential, it's because something's holding us back." He stroked his short white beard. "A memory, perhaps. One that's still locked away in that head of yours."
The thought sent a chill down my spine. How many fragments of my past still lay buried? And which one of them had such a grip on my magic?
"You think something I can't remember is... what? Blocking my power?"
"The human mind is complex. Sometimes it protects us from memories we're not ready to face." Alfred picked up a practice sword, running his finger along its wooden edge. "And sometimes those same protections can manifest in unexpected ways."
I flexed my fingers, feeling that familiar resistance when I tried to channel my magic. It wasn't like the early days when I couldn't access it at all. Now it was there, tantalizingly close, but refusing to flow freely.
"But how do I break through something I can't even remember?"
"That's the challenge, isn't it?" Alfred's voice carried a weight of experience. "Sometimes the memories find their way back when we're ready for them. Other times..." He paused, considering his words. "Other times, we have to be willing to face what we've forgotten, even if it's painful."
I grabbed another towel, mulling over Alfred's words about facing my past. Even if he was right, how could I confront memories that remained locked away? The desire burned inside me like a physical ache, but those fragments stayed stubbornly sealed, like a chest without a key. Every time I reached for them, they slipped further into darkness.
"Perhaps we should-" Alfred's suggestion cut short as a familiar laugh echoed through the training room, bouncing off the stone walls with an unsettling resonance.
My spine stiffened, muscles coiling instinctively. That laugh - playful yet devoid of warmth - could only belong to one person. I'd heard it enough times to know the danger it often preceded.
"How touching." Assassin materialized from the shadows near the far pillar, his trademark smile plastered across his face, dark eyes glinting with amusement. "It warms my heart to see such a bond forming since March's return. Almost like watching a lost puppy finding its way home."
The words dripped with honey, but carried no genuine emotion. Next to him stood Brick, jaw clenched and eyes blazing with barely contained rage. His massive frame seemed to vibrate with fury as he glared at me, fingers flexing at his sides as if itching to wrap around my throat.
Assassin's head tilted slightly, like a predator studying its prey. "March, might I borrow a minute of your time? We have some... matters to discuss."
Alfred just bowed and looked at me, his weathered face carefully composed but concern evident in the slight furrow of his brow. He quietly went towards the mansion, but I felt his eyes staying with us, ready to intervene if needed.
"Of course," I said, keeping my voice neutral despite the tension crackling through the air like static before a storm.
I followed Assassin into a cramped room within the mansion, my footsteps echoing against wooden floors. A simple table dominated the space, flanked by several chairs. Assassin slid into one with fluid grace, gesturing to the seat across from him.
The chair creaked under my weight as I sat. Brick planted himself behind Assassin like a looming shadow, his bulk making the room feel even smaller. The smile hadn't left Assassin's face - that same playful, dangerous expression that never quite reached his eyes.
"I imagine you've already figured out why I'm here today." Assassin's fingers drummed a light pattern on the table's surface.
I glanced at Brick, finding him wearing a matching grin that transformed his usually stern face into something more unsettling. The expression looked wrong on him, like a mask that didn't quite fit.
"You see," Assassin continued, leaning forward slightly, "these little... disagreements between my people have become somewhat troublesome. I can't have those working under me at each other's throats." His voice carried the same light tone he might use to discuss the weather, but the underlying steel was unmistakable. "This conflict between you and Brick - it needs to be resolved."
I shifted my gaze from Brick to Assassin, my jaw tightening. "With all due respect, we didn't start this. Brick attacked Tusk's tavern - my family. I only stepped in after he targeted people I care about."
Brick's face twisted into an ugly snarl, but Assassin raised his hand, silencing any retort before it could form.
"Leave us," Assassin commanded, not even turning to look at Brick.
Brick's massive frame tensed, defiance flashing across his features. For a moment, I thought he might refuse, but then he turned and stalked out of the room. The door slammed behind him with enough force to rattle the walls.
Assassin's perpetual smile never wavered as he leaned back in his chair. "You know, March, you and your friends are some of the finest operatives I've ever worked with. Skilled, intelligent, resourceful." He paused, dark eyes studying my face. "But Brick... he has something special. Something that sets him apart."
His fingers traced invisible patterns on the table's surface. "Ruthlessness. Pure, uncompromising ruthlessness. The kind that doesn't hesitate, doesn't question, doesn't let emotional attachments get in the way of the job." He spread his hands. "He's currently handling a very important operation for me, one that requires his particular... talents."
My stomach turned as Assassin's words confirmed what Anna had discovered. The missing children, the shadowy operation in the upper district - it all led back here, to this smiling man who treated human lives like disposable game pieces.
"I have a proposition for you, March." Assassin's fingers stopped their dance across the table. "Take over Brick's operation. Your... moral compass might actually be useful in maintaining discretion. In return, I'll ensure Brick steps away from this conflict entirely. The main street returns to you and your friends' control."
The offer hung in the air between us, heavy with implications. My jaw clenched as memories of Anna's determined face flashed through my mind, her voice describing the families torn apart, the children who'd vanished without a trace.
I shook my head. "No."
Assassin's smile widened, showing teeth. "I suspected as much. You haven't changed, even without your memories." He rose from his chair with fluid grace. "Still, I had to offer."
He moved toward the door, each step deliberate and measured. "I expect this conflict to resolve itself soon." His hand rested on the doorknob as he turned back to me. "Otherwise, everyone involved will have to suffer the consequences."
Our eyes met, and in that moment, I understood the full weight of his threat. Not just those of us in Dzvilla, but everyone - Anna, Julia, Tusk, all the people we'd sworn to protect. His smile never wavered as he held my gaze, knowing his message had landed exactly as intended.
I sat in the empty room after Assassin left, his threat echoing in my mind. The walls felt closer, the air thicker. My fingers traced the wooden grain of the table, mind racing through possibilities, each one darker than the last.
The door creaked. I looked up to find December's silent form in the doorway. His hood cast familiar shadows across his face, but his presence brought an unexpected wave of relief.
He gave a slight nod. "I was here. In case things went wrong."
A laugh bubbled up from my chest, surprising even me. Of course December had been nearby - he always seemed to know exactly where trouble might spark. His gift for sensing the undercurrents of tension in Dzvilla had saved us more times than I could count.
"You felt that coming?"
"Hard to miss." December's quiet voice carried a hint of dry humor. "Assassin's visits tend to leave... impressions."
The tension in my shoulders eased. Looking at December's calm demeanor, I remembered why we'd survived so long. January's tactical brilliance, August's raw power, September's versatility, April's determination, and December's uncanny awareness - we weren't just a team, we were family.
"We might have to fight him, you know." I stood up, stretching muscles that had gone stiff from sitting too long. "Assassin. If we keep pushing against Brick..."
"Then we fight." December's simple response carried absolute certainty.
He was right. Whatever came next, whatever price we had to pay, we'd face it together. The thought of standing against Assassin was terrifying, but the alternative - letting him continue his schemes, letting Brick hurt more people - that wasn't an option.