The battlefield had expanded beyond Hinata's home—now a collapsing ruin—with the moonlight casting eerie shadows over the wreckage. What had started as a sudden attack had spiraled into a full-scale disaster, acid melting through everything in sight, civilians fleeing from their burning homes, and Rei's team struggling against the overwhelming force of the assassins.

  Fumiko grabbed Hinata's wrist, her fingers digging into skin as she yanked her toward the door. "We have to go!" she shouted, her voice barely carrying over the sounds of destruction. Hinata hesitated, looking back at Rei and the others still fighting, her eyes wide with worry.

  Before they could escape, their bodies froze mid-step as if struck by lightning.

  Fumiko's breath hitched as an unseen force tightened around her limbs. The pressure was inexorable, like invisible chains wrapping around every inch of her body. She couldn't move—not even her fingertips would respond.

  "W-what?" Hinata gasped, her eyes wide with fear, muscles straining uselessly against the invisible restraints.

  A slow, deliberate chuckle filled the air, oily and self-satisfied.

  Tether stepped forward, grinning smugly as he twirled his fingers, invisible chains shimmering for a brief moment in the moonlight. "Now, now, ladies. Where's the fun in running away? Stay a while... let me admire my two lovely guests." His eyes roamed over them with unsettling intensity.

  Fumiko struggled, gritting her teeth until her jaw ached. Damn it. This isn't just paralysis—it's suppressing our abilities too. She could feel her connection to her summons dimming, like a light being smothered.

  Hinata's breathing quickened, panic rising in her chest. "Let me go!" The words came out strained, almost choked.

  Tether smiled wider, revealing too-white teeth. "Oh, I'd rather not."

  Meanwhile, Raiden and Sama coordinated their attacks against Sylvester, but the battlefield had become a death trap. Acid seeped into the ground, melting through entire sections of the neighborhood. The air was filled with smoke, the scent of burning metal and rotting chemicals clashing violently, making each breath painful.

  Raiden charged his body with lightning, electricity crackling along his skin as he lunged at Sylvester. "Just shut up and die already!" The air around him sizzled with heat and power.

  Sylvester's grin widened as he released another thick, purple toxic mist around himself, his body distorting like a mirage within the poisonous cloud. "Funny, isn't it? We're both blind, but you're still weaker than me." His voice drifted through the mist, impossible to pinpoint.

  Raiden moved at full speed—only for Sylvester to effortlessly step out of the way, leaving Raiden striking nothing but air. "My eyes aren't normal, Fujiwara. Didn't I tell you?" The mockery in his voice was palpable.

  Sylvester tapped the side of his heat-seeking goggles, adjusting the focus with a theatrical flourish. "These let me track everything at once. You, him, her... all at once." He moved like water, fluid and unpredictable.

  Sama's Nephilim redirected a blast of acid toward Sylvester, forcing him to twist his body at the last second. The massive angelic creature hovered protectively, its wings spread wide to shield the group from the worst of the acid attacks, absorbing and neutralizing the toxic substance with each hit. Despite its power, even the Nephilim was beginning to show signs of deterioration, its wings gradually eroding under the constant chemical assault.

  Sylvester landed smoothly on the broken ground, clicking his tongue. "Not bad. Guess I'll have to actually try now." A note of genuine annoyance crept into his voice.

  Bone remained eerily calm, watching Rei with predatory focus. Unlike Sylvester, there was no playful arrogance—just brutal efficiency in every calculated movement.

  Rei moved purely on instinct, dodging the initial attacks, his body responding to danger before his mind could process it. He noticed a pattern in Bone's movements—his punches were exceptionally slow but carried devastating force. Each missed strike left small craters in whatever surface they connected with.

  He's powerful but predictable, Rei realized. If I can maintain distance and read his movements, I can win this. The assassin's reliance on raw power over speed gave Rei a potential advantage—if he could capitalize on it before exhaustion set in.

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  Bone suddenly missed a punch, his fist sailing past Rei's ear. Rei's eyes widened in momentary relief—until a razor-sharp bone blade shot out from Bone's elbow mid-swing with a sickening sound of tearing flesh.

  Rei barely dodged, twisting his body at an impossible angle. Too slow.

  The blade ripped across Rei's cheek, tearing through skin and muscle. Blood spilled onto the ground, hot and metallic in the cool night air.

  Bone retracted the blade, exhaling calmly. "You're adapting... but not fast enough." His voice carried no emotion, as if stating a simple fact.

  Rei stumbled slightly, his vision blurring for just a moment as pain lanced through his face. A silver light caught his peripheral vision—moonbeams filtering through the broken ceiling, unusually bright and somehow... focused on him. The light seemed to pulse with a subtle rhythm, almost like a heartbeat.

  Then, he heard it. Not with his ears, but within his mind.

  Let me in.

  The whisper wasn't harsh or demanding. It was melodic, serene—like water flowing over smooth stones. The voice seemed to emanate from the moonlight itself, beautiful and ancient.

  Another punch landed, rattling his skull. His vision blurred, a sharp sting spreading across his jaw. The moonlight intensified, and the whisper returned, more insistent yet still hauntingly beautiful.

  Your refusal is hurting your friends. If you want peace, let me take over. This is the only way.

  The words weren't spoken as a plea or demand, but as a simple, serene truth—as if the voice was merely describing the natural order of things, the inevitable flow of fate. Its certainty was absolute, its tranquility unnerving.

  As Rei struggled to make sense of the whispers, another voice emerged—this one different, sharper, more familiar somehow. It didn't seem connected to the moonlight, but rather resonated from deep within himself.

  Brother, let me take over. I'll bring you to what's destined for us.

  This second voice carried an edge of impatience, of barely restrained power. It felt closer, more immediate than the moonlight's whispers—like it belonged to someone or something that had always been with him.

  Rei shook his head, trying to focus through the cacophony. He felt like he was floating—losing himself in a fog of pain and alien thoughts.

  Then, another brutal punch slammed into his face, snapping him back to reality with shocking clarity.

  Rei launched a punch into Bone's ribs, a shock running through the assassin's frame. He followed with another strike to the same spot—only for Bone's body to harden in an instant, bone plates forming a protective shell.

  A sickening jolt ran up Rei's arm as the recoil snapped through his fingers, sending pain shooting into his bones. His knuckles cracked, skin splitting from the impact.

  Josuke watched, frozen in place, his heart hammering in his chest.

  The cocky facade he'd carefully cultivated over the years had crumbled completely. All those hours of training, all his talk about becoming a great hero—none of it mattered now that death stared him in the face. Just like during the Academy trials, when others had fought and died around him, he found himself paralyzed by terror.

  I can't do this. I can't... His thoughts raced in chaotic circles. Images flashed through his mind—his mother crying over bills, his father's tired eyes when he announced he'd become a hero. The weight of their expectations had once fueled his bravado, but now it crushed him under an avalanche of inadequacy.

  I was supposed to save them. A bitter laugh nearly escaped his lips. I can't even save myself. His family's financial struggles had pushed him toward heroism, but what good was a hero who froze when faced with real danger?

  His hands trembled. Bernard's training flashed through his mind, but right now, he felt completely useless—a child playing at being a hero.

  Tether smirked at him, tilting his head. "Aww, poor little guy. Can't even move, huh?" His voice dripped with condescension.

  Josuke clenched his fists until his nails bit into his palms. He wanted to move—he needed to—but his legs refused. What if I step in and just die? What if I make it worse? His fingers twitched, but he still didn't move.

  Raiden and Sama were struggling, barely avoiding the toxic clouds that ate through everything they touched. The Nephilim's wings were beginning to disintegrate, holes appearing in the once-perfect feathers as Sylvester's acid found its mark. Rei was bleeding, crimson streaming down his face. Hinata and Fumiko were trapped, unable to even cry out.

  And Josuke? Josuke stood rooted to the spot, a spectator to his own failure.

  Far from the battlefield, in a high-end massage parlor, Kage leaned back, his sunglasses perched on his forehead as skilled hands worked the tension from his shoulders. Katie lay beside him, sipping a drink lazily, her hair wrapped in a towel.

  "Mmm, this is nice," she muttered. "This will slightly take care of the immense shedding you caused my hair. You're lucky you're paying for this." Her voice carried the perfect blend of annoyance and contentment.

  Kage smirked, about to respond when Katie nudged him. "Hey, look at the TV. Another attack in the city."

  Kage glanced at the screen with disinterest, barely registering the news broadcast showing flames, destruction, and chaos. Just another day in a city full of sorcerers and villains. He was about to close his eyes again when the camera zoomed in on two figures that made him sit up straight—Bone and Sylvester.

  His jaw tightened, muscles tensing beneath the masseuse's fingers. Then the camera panned, catching a glimpse of a bloodied Rei dodging another attack.

  "Oh no..." Kage shot up, already reaching for his coat, abandoning the relaxation he'd been enjoying moments before. "This just became my problem."