From the darkness emerged figures clad in dark robes, their faces obscured by hoods. Harry's heart raced. He recognized them immediately — Templars, searching for the very artifact he now held.
"Leave the shard, Potter," one of the Templars called out, his voice cold and authoritative. "You cannot hope to comprehend its power."
"Or you can try to take it from me," Harry replied defiantly, clutching the fragment tighter. He felt a surge of courage rising within him, bolstered by the warmth of the Staff.
"Foolish boy!" another Templar spat, stepping forward. "You cannot control what you do not understand!"
"Then teach me," Harry shot back, finding strength in his conviction. He wouldn't let them intimidate him. Not now. Not ever.
With a swift movement, Marcus drew his hidden blade, stepping protectively in front of Harry. "You'll have to go through me first."
The Templars hesitated, their eyes narrowing in calculation. "You've aligned yourself with a child, Marcus Altair. Your betrayal to the Brotherhood will cost you dearly."
Before Harry could respond, the Templars lunged forward. The air crackled with tension as the fight erupted.