Jane moved cautiously, her grip tightening around the I.K gun as she followed the trail of wraiths. It didn't take long for her to notice that they were all emerging from a single location—a small, rundown shed near the edge of the battlefield. The wooden structure looked old and unstable, its door barely hanging on its hinges. Shadows flickered against its walls as more wraiths crawled out, their grotesque forms twisting unnaturally in the dim light.
Jane exhaled slowly, raising her gun. She took down the nearest wraiths with swift, silent shots, aiming directly for their heads. Each energy bullet cut through them like a blade through paper, dissolving their forms instantly. She kept moving forward, her steps light, careful not to make a sound.
As she reached the shed, she could hear voices from inside.
"He almost killed me! You didn't say he was that strong!" a shrill female voice rang out, filled with frustration and pain.
"Oh." A male voice responded lazily, almost bored.
"I need to heal. Help me," the woman demanded.
There was a pause before the man's voice came again, unimpressed. "Do I look like a human you can feed on?"
Jane's breath hitched. Feed on? Her mind raced. Was that why roots bonded with humans? She had always assumed the contracts were just a mystical link between a diabolist and their root, but this—this was something else. If it was true, then what about Eva? Was she doing the same to Peter?
"Just find me one! I'm too weak to go out. What if I run into Mask again?" the woman pressed.
There was a sigh. "Then feed on the human outside."
Jane stiffened. They had noticed her.
She instinctively stepped back, her finger tightening on the trigger. A split second later, the shadows shifted unnaturally, and something moved—fast. The woman materialized exactly where Jane had been standing just moments ago, her body warping like ink spreading in water.
"There you ar—"
Jane didn't hesitate.
She fired.
A pure white energy bullet blasted through the woman's skull, cutting off her words. For a moment, the woman's body remained frozen, her eyes wide with shock. Then, slowly, she began to crumble. Wisps of darkness unraveled from her form, dissolving into the air like smoke.
"Thank you for getting rid of her. She wouldn't stop yapping," a male voice said casually.
Jane's eyes narrowed as she quickly turned, trying to pinpoint the source of the voice. But no one was there.
Then, in an instant, something struck her wrist, knocking her gun from her hand. Before she could react, she was yanked into the air, a crushing grip tightening around her throat.
Jane gasped, her hands instinctively clawing at the one holding her. Her legs kicked uselessly beneath her as she struggled to breathe. The man holding her had long, jet-black hair that cascaded past his shoulders, sharp green slit-like eyes that gleamed with amusement, and two curved horns protruding from his head.
Jane's vision blurred as she desperately tried to reach for her C.A gun. It was still inside the duffle bag slung over her shoulder, but her movements were sluggish, her strength draining rapidly.
The man tilted his head slightly, watching her struggle with mild curiosity.
"This feeling…" he muttered to himself. "Where do I know this from?"
Then, after a brief pause, he chuckled, his lips curling into a sinister grin. "Hmm. It doesn't matter. Yes… I'll do it slowly."
Jane barely had time to process his words before an unbearable heat surged through her veins. It felt like her very blood was boiling inside her. Her skin turned red, burning from the inside out. She gasped, her body trembling as waves of pain crashed over her.
Her duffle bag slipped from her shoulder, hitting the ground with a dull thud. Some of her equipment spilled out, but Jane barely noticed. She was too focused on the searing agony coursing through her body.
Then, suddenly, the man's expression shifted. His grip loosened. A flicker of realization crossed his face, and in an instant, he released her, staggering backward as if he had touched fire.
Jane collapsed onto the ground, coughing violently as she gasped for air. The heat inside her veins was already beginning to fade, but the lingering pain made her limbs feel weak.
The man, now several steps away, stared at her with wide eyes. His previous amusement had vanished, replaced with something close to disbelief.
"You…" His voice was low, almost wary. "Why are you here?"
Jane lay sprawled on the ground, her vision swimming and her body weak. Her head throbbed painfully, and a loud ringing in her ears drowned out all sound. She barely registered the man's voice—whatever he had said was lost to the deafening hum in her skull.
Her fingers twitched as she became dimly aware of something beside her. The cool metal of her C.A gun. It had fallen from her bag when she dropped, landing just within reach. Summoning what little strength she had left, she slowly moved her trembling hand toward it.
The man, watching her struggle to breathe, stepped forward. Her skin was still flushed bright red, evidence of the agonizing heat she had just endured.
"Hey, let's get you some help," he said, his voice strangely gentle as he reached for her.
But Jane wasn't listening. Her fingers found the switch on the gun, flipping it from capture to release.
The moment the man realized what she was doing, it was too late.
With a weak but determined pull of the trigger, Jane unleashed the full contents of the gun.
A dark cloud erupted from the barrel as dozens of wraiths poured out, their hollow, hungry eyes locking onto the nearest living thing—the man standing before them. These weren't like the wraiths he had controlled. These were wild, untamed creatures with no master to rein them in.
The man's expression shifted from amusement to shock as the wraiths lunged at him, their screeches filling the air.
But Jane didn't get to see what happened next.
The effort had drained what little strength she had left. A sharp pain ignited in her chest, as if her heart itself was burning. She could taste blood in her mouth, feel it trickling from her nose. Her breathing was shallow, ragged.
Somewhere in the distance, a bright flash of light flickered in the corner of her vision.
Then everything faded to black.
***
Peter was furious. The moment he arrived, the first thing he saw was Jane lying weakly on the ground, barely conscious.
Rage clouded his mind, and for a brief moment, he lost himself.
The next thing he knew, white fire was erupting from his hands in a relentless torrent. He didn't think—he simply attacked. Flames consumed every wraith in sight, reducing them to ash in an instant. But the horned man managed to escape, leaping into the air just before the fire could reach him.
As he soared upward, dark, feathered wings spread from his back, carrying him higher.
Peter didn't hesitate. He summoned the wind and shot into the sky after him, fury blazing in his chest.
The man looked at Peter, his expression guarded—calculated. Then, for just a second, his eyes flicked back down to Jane. There was something there. Concern?
Peter didn't care. He hurled fireball after fireball, each one burning hotter than the last.
The horned man clicked his tongue in irritation, condensing moisture from the air and forming barriers of water to counter the attacks. But Peter didn't let up. He was relentless, not giving his enemy a single moment to strike back.
The man's gaze drifted to Jane again. If she died, everything would fall apart. And if that happened, Castor would kill him.
"Damn it. Kryvos, you're up," the horned man muttered before swapping control with his counterpart.
Inside Peter's mind, Eva immediately noticed the shift. The energy coming from their opponent had changed—darker, fiercer.
If this keeps up, Jane might actually die, Eva thought, growing uneasy.
Peter didn't realize what was happening at first. He was too focused on the fight, too caught up in his own anger. But then his opponent stopped using water and switched to fire—hot, black flames that burned unnaturally.
Kryvos smirked, his expression twisted with amusement. "I'd love to compete with you in firepower, but if we keep going, your little friend down there might not survive."
Peter faltered. For the first time, his anger was interrupted by something else—fear.
Eva agreed with Kryvos, though she hated to admit it. At least someone was thinking clearly, even if it was the enemy.
Peter clenched his jaw, then turned away and dove back toward Jane. The fight didn't matter. She did.
He landed gently beside her, lifting her into his arms. She was burning up, her body unnaturally hot. Without wasting another second, Peter channeled his energy and began healing her, pouring everything he had into stabilizing her condition.
Meanwhile, Eva kept her attention locked on the enemy. She could sense him just as he could sense her.
Kryvos chuckled, clearly aware of her presence. "Till our next encounter," he said before summoning a portal.
With a final glance at Peter and Jane, he stepped through it and vanished.
***
Peter poured every drop of holy energy he had into healing Jane. Eva found it unbearable to watch—not because she didn't want Jane to recover, but because Peter was wasting so much of the power she had painstakingly saved.
It was like watching someone in a drought dump an entire basin of water just to fill a single cup.
Eva gritted her teeth and looked away. If she kept watching, she might actually start yelling at him.
Peter only stopped when the last of the holy energy was drained. Jane's breathing had steadied, her feverish flush fading away, but now they had no reserves left.
It was only then that Peter remembered the enemy. He snapped his head up, scanning the area, but the horned man was gone.
Peter exhaled sharply, frustrated. He placed a hand on his forehead and undid the merge. "Scout the area. He might still be nearby," he told Eva before lifting Jane and carrying her into the mansion.
Eva sighed but didn't argue. She strolled through the dimly lit halls, her senses on high alert. The main threat was gone for now, and most of the invaders had retreated, but there were still likely a few stray wraiths left wandering.
As she walked, she found herself drawn to a small shed tucked away at the edge of the courtyard. Something about it felt… off. The air around it was slightly warped, like a ripple in space.
Eva stepped inside and ran a hand through the empty air. A faint, lingering energy clung to the space like the fading heat of a fire long extinguished.
"This must have been where another portal was," Eva murmured, her fingers brushing against the distorted air.
Eva sighed, rubbing her temple. Things were getting more complicated by the day. The Atlantian Legacy was far more dangerous than she had initially assumed. To think they were working with those beings…