The cottage walls pressed inward, thick with the weight of silence. Naomi stood at the window, her fingers clenching the edge of the curtain as she peered outside. Black SUVs lined the driveway, their engines humming low, like beasts ready to pounce.
"Federal Task Force!" The amplified voice crackled through the megaphone, calm but insistent. "We know you're in there. Step outside with your hands visible."
Naomi's stomach twisted. The sword hummed in her mind, cold and persistent. Just one swing. Cut them down before they can draw their weapons. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to drown out the whispers.
"They're not gonna wait forever," Dan muttered, pacing near the door. His usual lighthearted demeanor was gone, leaving only tension and nervous energy. "How long do we have before they decide to kick the door in?"
"Not long." Naomi let the curtain fall back into place. The men outside were too organized, too deliberate. This wasn't just a sweep—they knew exactly who they were dealing with.
Dan exhaled sharply. "You think we can talk our way out?"
Naomi shook her head. "It's not just officers out there."
Dan's brows furrowed, but he didn't ask. He didn't have to—the unease in Naomi's voice told him everything. She could feel them—the agents hiding among the humans, with golden, slit eyes glinting beneath their tactical helmets.
Devourers.
The voice boomed again from outside, steady but with a hint of something unnatural beneath it. "This is your final warning. Open the door now."
Dan paced to the window, biting his lip. "Where did Ava and Elias go?" He glanced at Lucius, who had found a rocking chair and was calmly reading a book.
The sword buzzed louder, coiling around Naomi's thoughts. Just use me. End this before they do.
Naomi's hand hovered over the bundle where the sword rested. Her pulse quickened, and the temptation grew sharper. She could feel it calling to her, promising strength, control, power—everything they needed to survive.
"Dammit..." The words tumbled out before she realized she'd spoken them.
Dan glanced at her sharply. "Naomi? Fight or surrender?"
Naomi's mind spun. Dan, the sword, herself—all grabbing at her for solutions. Maybe the answer is the sword. Maybe if she let go this once, she'd be fine afterward. Her hand edged closer toward the hilt.
But before the sword could wrap itself around her, Elias and Ava gasped for air, popping into reality with shaky hands. Disorientation hit them like a wave—the room was dim, the air thick with tension. Voices echoed outside, indistinct but urgent.
Elias stumbled forward from exhaustion, his heart pounding. Ava caught him just in time, supporting him on her shoulder. His gaze fell on the living room—on Naomi and Dan standing frozen near the door, on Lucius, calm as always, and on the sword resting beside the stone fireplace.
The hum of the blade resonated in his bones, cold and sharp, like a tether pulling him back toward everything he wanted to leave behind.
"Elias—" Naomi's voice broke through the haze, startled but relieved.
Elias didn't answer. His gaze locked onto the sword. The hum grew louder, urging him to pick it up. To fight. To kill.
But instead of fear, a strange clarity settled over him. He looked at Ava, and she answered with a tight nod. They both knew, in that moment, that the sword had to go.
All of it.
The door rattled under another threat. "Open the door now, or we come in!"
Naomi flinched, her hand twitching toward the sword. It buzzed louder, feeding on her fear.
Before she could make a move, Elias surged forward. In one smooth motion, he grabbed the sword from its bundle and stepped toward the stone fireplace.
"Elias, wait!" Naomi called out, but there was no hesitation in his steps. His mind was already made up.
Elias stood before the fireplace, the cold steel humming in his hands, its dark whispers clawing at his mind. It wanted him to fight—to hold onto the power it offered.
Instead, he raised the sword over his head and brought it crashing down against the stone.
The blade shattered on impact, splintering into jagged shards that scattered across the floor. The hum cut off instantly, leaving behind a deafening silence.
Naomi stared, wide-eyed, as the sword's remains glinted like obsidian in the dim light. The weight in the air lifted. The whispers vanished.
Outside, the head of the task force—a tall, gaunt man—tilted his head, his golden eyes narrowing. He blinked slowly, as if sensing the shift.
"There's nothing here anymore. The mortal has done our job for us," he murmured, more to himself than to the other officers. "Withdraw."
The other agents glanced at him, confused. "But the sword—"
"Withdraw." His voice carried an undeniable command, cold and final. "With the sword's presence gone, our master's descent is all but complete."
The officers hesitated only a moment before retreating, piling into their SUVs without another word. Engines roared to life, and within minutes, they were gone, leaving nothing but the quiet hum of the wind behind.
Dan stood frozen by the window, his mouth slightly agape. "Did we... did we just win?"
Naomi exhaled, her shoulders sagging with exhaustion. "For now."
The soft creak of floorboards interrupted the silence. Lucius approached the group, hands tucked into his coat pockets, a pleased smile playing on his lips.
"Well done," he said, his tone light and amused, as if they'd just passed some grand test. "I take it Esmer's memory has given you an answer?"
Elias turned toward him, chest still heaving from the effort. "Kairo could've taken a far different path. She was there with him. But all I felt in the sword was everything but what Esmer shared with us." He glanced at Ava. "And I realized I was doing the exact same thing."
Lucius's smile deepened. "Well done." He gave Elias a small hug. "Now, the rest is up to you."
Dan folded his arms. "Up to us? Come on, man, you're not gonna help us?"
Lucius chuckled softly. "I didn't mean it that way, Mister Stratton. Of course, I'll help," he placed a hand on Elias's shoulder, "but this man here—and all of you—will decide how much help you want from me."
Elias ran a hand through his hair, still catching his breath. The sword was gone, but the fight was far from over.
Naomi knelt down, brushing her fingers over the scattered shards. Even broken, the sword still seemed to hum faintly—like a whisper from a dream, not yet fully gone.
Lucius grinned. "Well done, Miss Faraday."
Naomi gave him a tired smile.
Elias exhaled, exhaustion and resolve swirling together in his chest. "Alright, shall we figure out how to forge this thing?"
He didn't know what lay ahead, but for the first time, the path forward didn't feel so suffocating.
And for now, that was enough.