As the dust settled on the rooftop battlefield, the Outcasts gathered around the charred, flickering form of Lucius, their faces etched with a mixture of relief and exhaustion. But their victory was short-lived as Lucius, barely clinging to consciousness, summoned the last vestiges of his power to perform an incantation. "Invoco… te… Michaelius," he said.
As a black magic circle formed underneath him, shadows enveloped Lucius in a barrier swallowing him whole before their eyes. In an instant, he vanished, leaving behind only a lingering sense of terror in his wake.
"He's gone," Marcus said, his voice heavy with concern.
"What the fuck was that thing?" Jane exclaimed.
"I don't know," Marcus said. "And that's what worries me the most."
"We can discuss this back at the base, we should leave as quickly as possible," Kento groaned.
"I need healing, as do Darryl and Constantine. Speaking of which.." he said, turning to face Constantine.
"You have some explaining to do." he said.
Constantine lowered his head, looking both weary and awkward. Then, Kento limped to him and put his hand on his shoulder. "Thank you," he said with a small smile. "You saved my life tonight ".
"We're even," Constantine replied with a grin and a hint of relief in his voice.
Jane was still looking at the charred outline of Lucius' form on the floor. "I don't like this," she muttered, her voice low and sharp. "He could still be out there, and he will definitely come back."
Marcus nodded grimly, his eyes scanning the rooftop for any sign of movement. "We can't let our guard down," he replied. "We can assume that it will take him some time to recover from that… attack." he finished, looking at Constantine wearily.
Kento stepped forward, his expression stoic as ever. "We can have Shift set up surveillance and link this place to the teleportation circle," he said in a low voice. "But we have to get going," he concluded.
Constantine shifted uncomfortably, a sense of unease gnawing at him from within. "We need to find him before he strikes again," he said. "We can't afford to let him slip through our fingers again."
He saw Vicky, back in the balcony, looking at him teary-eyes.
"Go get Darryl, Constantine," Marcus said meaningfully. "We'll wait here."
Constantine nodded in agreement, jumping down to the balcony of what used to be his home. With a collective nod, the remaining Outcasts turned around and walked away to give them some privacy. Constantine stood still, looking at her; he longed to see her for so long, to tell her he's fine, to hold her. Instead he had involved her in the mess that his life had become, making her a target. He felt too ashamed to look her in the eyes. He turned his head away from her, but she walked up to him and put her hand on his cheek, gently turning his head to face her.
"Constantine," she began, her voice trembling with emotion. "You… you're alive." she said, whimpering. Letting out a cry, she buried herself in his arms, unable to say anything, completely unraveling.
Constantine held her silently for several minutes, no longer holding back his own tears. "I'm so sorry Vicky, I missed you so much, I'm so sorry, I'll explain everything." he whispered, his tears falling on her face, blending in hers.
"I'm sorry, but not yet." a low voice calmly said behind them. They both turned and saw Kento, looking at them with a grim expression, his now crimson eyes meeting Vicky's; she immediately passed out in Constantine's arms.
"What the fuck did you do, Kento?" Constantine said in an enraged, yet very quiet voice, as if he was afraid to wake her.
"I'm sorry Constantine, but you can't stay around her any longer. I just put her to sleep; when she wakes up she'll think that everything that happened to night was a dream." he replied.
Marcus appeared behind him, carrying an unconscious Darryl.
"It's time to explain to you why you really call ourselves Outcasts, Constantine." he said sorrowfully.
Elsewhere:
As Lucius emerged from the shadows, he found himself standing in a dimly lit chamber, facing an unnaturally pale man whose red eyes were looking at him with contempt. His hair was jet black, with a red streak that fell over his forehead. His ears were pointy, like an elf's. And a pair of black wings emerged, folded, from his back. His name was Michaelius.
"Hello, Lucius," Michaelius said with disdain. "Back so soon, and empty-handed at that," he continued.
Lucius gritted his teeth, a flicker of annoyance in his eyes. "I got attacked by the Outcasts," he retorted, his tone slightly defensive. "Our assumptions were incorrect. They were on alert and still in the city."
Michaelius scoffed, mockery evident in his tone.
"Your little pet failed with the diversion? What a waste." he chided. "Our master won't be pleased with your incompetence."
"They should have gone behind the Veil by now; I don't know what they're still doing in the human domain!" Lucius retorted, spitting out black blood as he rose from the floor.
"That's the problem with you, Lucius," Michaelius said. "You will never truly understand emotions, and that will be your downfall in the end. You owe me one - and don't count on me to bail you out again!" he said, walking away.
Frustration boiled within Lucius as he clenched his fists, but he knew better than to argue with Michaelius. He was right, after all. Lucius had operated under too many assumptions; the Outcasts being gone, Myra causing mayhem in Nyx, and the Council. But, more than anything, he counted on Constantine St. John being clueless and powerless; however, the man he faced was a monster. "He's coming into his powers way faster than expected," he muttered. Groaning, he limped towards one of the chambers, looking defeated.
He had to report his failure to his master, and his future had never felt more uncertain.