Getting up from the ground, all I could do was stare at Mary.

  Shock held me in place, my mind spiraling - my body still reeling from the confrontation. The only confirmation that what happened was real was the bloody handprint still smeared across her cheek.

  I looked to the place where the cultist had stood.

  Nothing.

  No trace. No scent. No shadow.

  It’s like he was never here to begin with.

  Just a shared hallucination between two barely-stable souls - if not for the blood smeared everywhere.

  “We have to leave. Now.”

  My voice came out sharper than I intended, but we didn’t have time for softness. Time wasn’t on our side.

  “If you alerted the Cardinal, then they know they’ve been exposed. And heretics... never ambush alone.”

  Right on cue, an explosion thundered from the west wing. The walls shook and the floor almost bent under our feet.

  My ears rung with a defeaning sound as I grasped my head in pain, and Mary seemed to be in a similiar state, covering her ears.

  Shaking myself out of it, I peered down the hallway through the open door. Still empty.

  Ominously empty.

  “…And never without a backup plan.”

  I positioned myself at the doorway, scanning both ends of the corridor. I glanced back at Mary - still pale, her hands trembling, but her eyes clearer now. She wasn’t frozen anymore. She was scared, yes. But standing. Watching me with eyes more clear then before.

  “Y-you knew I was alerting the Cardinal...? But how-?”

  I didn’t answer. I grabbed her hand and yanked her towards the door, rushing for the hall. She stumbled but caught herself after I let go of her hand.

  “We need to leave.”

  I made sure to keep my gaze away from hers while running down the hall - so she couldn’t look into my eyes.

  “You’re not the only one with crazy eyes,” I muttered, half-breathless. “Now move. Didn’t you hear what he said? Arthur and those pig-faced nobles aren’t the targets anymore.”

  Mary keept pace this time, a worried look in her eyes as she scanned around us. “We’ll be safe, right? The Cardinal - he’ll protect us. The others should be-”

  Still sprinting, my hand went under my coat. Metal clicked.

  A dark silver revolver gleamed under the flickering light as I drew it free with my right hand.

  Mary’s voice broke through in an almost accusing tone, staring at me with thin eyes. “A gun? You… brought a revolver to your awakening ceremony?”

  “Yes,” I said flatly, sliding back the hammer. “Seems like I was right to do so.”

  Gunfire erupted somewhere distant in the mansion, almost like it was mocking me.

  Mary swallowed but nodded, lips pressed tight.

  Turning a corner, my eyes pulsed - sharp, hot. An image. A warning.

  A girl, lunging. Knife aimed at my throat.

  Charlotte’s eyes-!

  I stopped in front of Mary and twisted. She tripped behind me, but I didn’t check. My right arm with my revolver was too slow - so I raised my left arm, blocking.

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  Shit-!

  The blade sank into my left palm. Hot pain flared white.

  My own blood splattered the floor as I roared through clenched teeth, twisting my wrist to knock her off balance.

  It was the servant girl - the one who had helped me before. But her sweet, shy face was gone. Empty eyes with a green tint. Blank mask. A puppet.

  Another knife came for my throat, a different one from the one lodged in my palm.

  This time, my shadows lunged. They blocked her strike just long enough for me to snap my revolver up - aiming it at her head as she lost her balance.

  Bang.

  Her body hit the ground limp, knife clattering beside her.

  I pulled the knife from my left hand as quickly as possible, groaning in pain as I threw it on the ground.

  Breathing hard, I tore a strip of fabric from my sleeve with my teeth and wrapped my shredded palm, blood still seeping through. Every movement sent a spike of pain up my arm.

  Not good. Not sustainable.

  But no time.

  Mary crouched beside me, face pale, hands twitching as if she wanted to help but couldn’t bring herself to touch me. “You’re bleeding-”

  “Later,” I hissed, forcing myself to stand. My revolver shook in my grip as I aimed it forward.

  Servants, all with the same eyes as the girl I had just killed, came from all directions. They all held different makeshift weapons, walking slowly around us as if they weren’t mindless, but calculated.

  Mary picked up the knife from the ground, holding it in front of her with trembling hands but determined eyes.

  I aimed at the closest servant, a man holding a broken glass bottle.

  And then-

  That voice.

  “Fall.”

  The word rippled through the corridor like a command written into the bones of reality.

  The servant’s puppet-bodies convulsed once, then collapsed lifeless on the floor. All around us, as if their strings had been cut.

  I froze. I recognised the voice.

  The last one I wanted to hear.

  He was back.

  The cloaked man. That thing. Still smiling. Still with his half-broken mask. Still wearing those rotted, milk-black eyes like jewelry.

  He clasped his hands together in mock sorrow, lowering his head as though he was truly apologetic.

  “So sorry, children.”

  He bowed - gentle. Sincere.

  “It seems my puppets got loose, they tend to do that when I’m not actively around. We had a kill-on-sight order… but didn’t account for you two. Please accept my utmost apolog-”

  He vanished.

  Again.

  Gone like a shadow.

  I ripped the last of the fabric tighter around my palm, hissing as the blood soaked through. Mary’s eyes flicked between me and the space the Bishop had been, her jaw set despite the fear trembling across her skin.

  And then I saw him.

  Behind her.

  Her lips parted. No sound. Her body trembeling. Sensing him standing behind her. Eyes wide in horror.

  He was frowning now. Tired. Aggrieved.

  “That bothersome pig won’t let me have peace,” he said. “I just want to talk to the children. Is that so much to ask?!”

  He looked up, shouting into the void.

  I might’ve laughed if I wasn’t bleeding out of my hand.

  He’s not just a cultist.

  He’s at the very least… a senior member of his cult. If he's able to stand toe to toe with the cardinal...

  But why here? Why Morren? Is it the Royal precence?

  Then - he vanished again.

  I didn’t hesitate. I grabbed Mary with my good hand and led her to a corner of the hallway with our backs pressed against the wall.

  My revolver remained raised.

  Scanning.

  Ten. Cloaked figures. All him. They blinked in and out of sight, flickering like ghosts. Surrounding us. Inching closer.

  Mary’s hands twitched. Divine light flickered faintly at her fingertips - uncontrolled, wild.

  My eyes started to glow a deep red hue, and the shadows at my feet remained restless. My revolver raised, trying to track the flickering figures phasing in and out of existence.

  His grin widened with each step, his eyes locked on Mary now.

  “That stupid priest thinks he can protect you,” he hissed. “But the night is our domain. And once I kill him…”

  He raised his hand.

  “You can finally be reunited with your true fami-”

  A flash of blinding yellow light erupted down the corridor. Divine energy crackled like thunder.

  All the figures disintegrated, burning away like ash in the wind.

  Finally.

  There he was - standing in the smoking corridor. Sword glowing golden in one hand, his other palm still extended from the burst of power.

  Hair wild. Coat singed. Eyes blazing with righteous hatred.

  Arthur Solmere.

  The Golden General.

  “Took you long enough,” I muttered, revolver shaking in my bleeding hand, trying not to smile.