Next Day, 5:00 a.m.
MORINJO
The alarm blares at 5:00 a.m., its shrill tone cutting through the stillness of the Ultimate Tower. I snap upright, the weight of unease pressing on my chest. Something feels off, though I can't quite place it. Shaking off the feeling, I quickly rallies the team.
"Leonard, Joseph, Jessica, Lin Ongro, Drax, Marger—let's move! Morning exercise starts now."
Groggy but obedient, the group stumbles into the sleek common area, stretching and yawning as they prepare for their routine. From my room, the soft murmur of John's prayers drifts out, weaving scripture into the uneasy quiet: *Psalm 103, Acts 2...* The words carry a strange gravity, settling uneasily in my mind.
The team begins their warm-ups, moving through the motions with mechanical precision. Leonard shows off his yoga poses, balanced and serene, while Jessica and Joseph turn their push-ups into a playful competition. Lin Ongro and Drax, ever the powerhouses, push the limits with an intense circuit of squats and burpees. Marger, quiet and disciplined, takes them through precise martial arts moves.
By the time John joins them, sweat glistens on their brows. He falls into step beside me for the jog around the compound. The sunrise glows crimson on the horizon, casting eerie shadows that stretch longer than they should.
"Strange color for a morning," John remarks, glancing at the sky.
"Yeah," I mutter, my eyes lingering on the horizon. "Strange."
---
Back inside, the aroma of sizzling bacon and brewing coffee fills the air. Jessica and I glide around the modern kitchen, our movements practiced and efficient.
"Jessica, hand me the eggs. Leonard's picky about his yolks."
"Don't forget John's toast. Extra crispy," Jessica replies, passing me a tray of ingredients.
The clatter of pans and hiss of cooking fills the space. Leonard pokes his head in, drawn by the smells.
"Smells amazing. You two are spoiling us."
"Just enjoy the magic," I quip without looking up, but his thoughts remain elsewhere, tethered to the ominous sky.
As the dishes come together, the group gathers around the grand dining table. Joseph leads them in a brief prayer, his words warm but tinged with an undercurrent of apprehension.
"Bless this meal, our team, and the strength we'll need for the battles ahead."
For a moment, silence settles over the table. Then, laughter and conversation break the tension as they dig in.
"This bacon is incredible, Morinjo. You've outdone yourself," Lin Ongro says.
"Magicians never reveal their secrets." I reply with a grin, though my eyes dart toward the windows.
Drax, oblivious to the tension, heaps his plate high. "Jessica, you're a genius with spices. Teach me your ways."
"Balance and a pinch of love," she says lightly, but her smile falters when she notices my distant expression.
---
7:30 p.m.
Jessica reaches for the front door handle, her purse slung over one shoulder.
"Jessica, wait," I say, stepping in front of her. My voice is urgent, my hand gripping the doorframe. "Path Finder is warning me. Malevolent gods are on the move. It's not safe outside."
She raises an eyebrow, half-smiling. "Evil gods? Really? You've been watching too many apocalypse shows."
"Jessica, this isn't a joke. Malacoda and his kind are real. If you step out there, you could—"
She cuts him off, her voice firm but kind. "I'm starving, Morinjo. And I've been looking forward to dinner out all day."
"Fine," I relent, but my expression hardens. "John!"
John appears almost immediately, his relaxed demeanor contrasting with my tension. "What's up?"
"Jessica's going out. Take her and don't let her out of your sight."
John looks at Jessica, then back at me. "Got it. Let's go, Jessica."
"Whatever," she mutters, rolling her eyes but following him out.
As they leave, I stand at the door, my fingers tightening into fists. The Path Finder inside me pulses with unease, each beat a warning. The sky, now dark and foreboding, presses down on the Ultimate Tower.
"The malevolent gods are watching," he whispers, his voice barely audible over the closing door.
JESSICA
John Brown and I pull into the parking lot of a cozy outdoor restaurant, the scent of sizzling dishes and fresh herbs filling the crisp evening air. Twinkling lights drape over the patio, casting a warm glow on the small tables scattered beneath them. The soft murmur of conversations and occasional laughter blends with the faint clinking of cutlery.
As I step out of the car, my eyes catch a familiar figure at one of the tables. Michael. He's leaning back in his chair, his daughter Lucy sitting beside him, swinging her legs and giggling at something he says.
"Jessica!" Michael's face lights up as he spots me. He rises from his chair, his voice carrying across the patio.
"Michael!" I call back, smiling as I walk toward him. His hug is warm and welcoming, and Lucy grins shyly up at me.
"It's been too long," Michael says, stepping back and motioning to his daughter. "You remember Lucy, right?"
I crouch slightly to meet her gaze. "Of course I do. Hi, Lucy. You've grown so much since I last saw you!"
She nods, her cheeks flushing as she hides behind Michael's arm.
"What are you doing here?" Michael asks, gesturing toward the restaurant.
"Just grabbing dinner," I say, glancing at the softly lit tables around us. "What about you two?"
"We thought we'd treat ourselves tonight," he says, ruffling Lucy's curls. "She's been begging me to come here for weeks."
"Well, it's a good choice," I reply, the warmth of the atmosphere already making me feel at ease.
"How's the team? The agents? And Mr. Smith?"
"They're doing well. Keeping busy as always." I pause, smiling. "And you? How's life treating you?"
"Can't complain. We're managing," Michael says, his tone light but tinged with something unspoken. He quickly gestures toward the entrance. "I was just about to place our order. Care to join us inside?"
I shake my head, glancing at Lucy. "Actually, I think I'll stay out here and keep your amazing daughter company while you order."
Michael chuckles, Lucy letting out a quiet giggle. "Alright, but don't let her talk your ear off."
"No promises," I say with a grin as Michael heads inside. Lucy watches him go, her smile lingering.
Michael heads inside to order food, leaving Lucy and me sitting at an outdoor table. The chilly air brushes against my skin, but it's nothing compared to the warmth of our laughter. Lucy is telling me about her favorite books, her voice animated as she describes each story. I can't help but smile—it's been a while since I've had such a lighthearted moment.
Then, it happens.
The temperature drops sharply, cutting through my jacket like a blade. My breath puffs out in white clouds, and tiny snowflakes begin to drift down. At first, it's beautiful. The snowflakes catch in Lucy's hair, and she giggles, reaching out to catch them in her small hands.
But something feels wrong.
The snow falls faster now, the flakes heavier and colder. The air grows eerily quiet, as if the world is holding its breath. Across the patio, I see people glancing around nervously, their chatter fading into silence.
That's when I see her.
A figure emerges from the swirling snow, her cloak a deep midnight blue, blending seamlessly with the darkness. Each step she takes is deliberate, her boots crunching against the frozen ground. The intricate patterns on her cloak shimmer faintly, as though they're alive. I can't take my eyes off her.
"Jessica," Lucy whispers, her voice trembling. She clutches my arm tightly, and I feel her fingers shaking.
"Stay close to me," I say, keeping my voice steady despite the knot forming in my stomach.
The woman stops a few feet away, her hood casting shadows over her face. Slowly, she raises her hands, and the air around her crystallizes. Shards of ice form above her head, suspended like jagged stars.
"Get down!" I shout, pulling Lucy under the table just as the first shard crashes into the ground, shattering into glittering fragments. Screams erupt around us as people scramble for cover. The once-cozy patio descends into chaos.
Under the table, Lucy clings to me, her face buried in my shoulder. My mind races. Who is this woman? Why is she doing this? And how am I supposed to stop her with Lucy right here?
Suddenly, a familiar car screeches to a halt nearby. "Jessica!" John's voice cuts through the chaos.
I look up, relief washing over me as I see him waving us toward the car. "Go, Lucy!" I say, guiding her out from under the table and into the car. Michael appears, looking pale but unharmed, and climbs in after her.
But I hesitate.
"Jessica, get in!" John yells, his tone urgent.
I shake my head, my eyes narrowing at the cloaked figure. "I can't let this go unanswered."
"Are you serious?" John stares at me like I've lost my mind.
"I've faced worse," I say, grabbing my gun from my holster. "Pull over, Johnny."
Reluctantly, John brings the car to a stop. As the door slams behind me, I step into the freezing night, my breath sharp in my lungs. The woman's gaze locks onto mine, and I feel the weight of her presence, like an invisible force pressing down on me.
"Who the hell are you?" I demand, aiming my gun.
She smirks, her voice cutting through the cold like a blade. "I am Aynat, goddess of ice. And you, Jessica, are standing in my way."
Before I can respond, she raises her hand, and shards of ice shoot toward me. I dive to the side, the frozen projectiles smashing into the ground where I stood moments before. Rolling to my feet, I fire a series of shots, but she conjures a shield of ice, each bullet embedding uselessly in the barrier.
She's fast. Too fast.
The ground beneath me turns slick as frost creeps outward, trapping my feet in icy tendrils. Panic claws at me, but I force it down. I've been in tight spots before—I just need to think.
Aynat doesn't wait. With a graceful motion, she conjures a blade of ice, its edge glinting menacingly in the faint light. She lunges, and I barely twist out of the way in time. Pain flares as the blade grazes my ribs, tearing through fabric and flesh.
I stagger, blood staining the snow beneath me. The cold seeps into my bones, slowing me down.
"Is this all the great Jessica can do?" Aynat taunts, circling me like a predator.
But then, the door to the frozen house explodes inward.
John bursts through, his eyes blazing with determination. "Get away from her!" he roars, and before Aynat can react, he delivers a devastating kick that sends her flying into the wall. The impact shakes the entire structure, cracks spidering through the icy surface.
John doesn't let up. His movements are a blur, each strike precise and brutal. Aynat tries to counter, but John's relentless assault forces her onto the defensive. Blow after blow lands, her icy shields shattering under his strength.
Finally, with a powerful uppercut, John sends her sprawling to the ground. She tries to rise, but he pins her down, his knee pressing into her chest.
"Enough," he growls, his voice low and dangerous.
The fight is over. The air seems to thaw, the oppressive cold lifting as Aynat's power fades.
John pulls me to my feet, his arm steadying me as I wince in pain. "You're lucky I got here when I did," he says, his tone gruff but tinged with relief.
"Yeah, yeah," I mutter, managing a weak smile. "Thanks, Johnny."
As he helps me into the car, the world outside the frozen house feels almost surreal. The battle is over, but something tells me this is only the beginning.
To be continued.....