I spent most of my photography class replaying the night before in my head. The fight, the aftermath, the quiet moments in between. Victor had met with Edward under the watchful windows of the Solitary Twin, and though I stood nearby, their conversation wasn’t meant for all ears. I took the hint and drifted away, deciding to spend the rest of the morning doing something I hadn’t done in a long while—painting graffiti in the city proper.

  The suit helped Not just in getting to the right spot unnoticed, but in letting me be who I needed to be to paint what I felt. I chose a billboard in the city center and went all in, no restraint, weaponizing philosophy, making it bleed into color.

  The piece showed a man staring into a rain puddle. An ordinary guy in a cheap suit, the kind who climbs ladders just to find them endless. Around him, the city lights pulsed like veins of tired ambition. But in the reflection, he was something else: armored, bloodied, sword in hand, shadowlight swirling around the blade, crouched over the corpse of a slain drake and smiling.

  I wanted that contrast. The dull weight of routine against the fierce brightness of purpose. The caption sprawled above it in bold, defiant strokes:

  “What if your soul is split? Would you fight for the other half?”

  Even now, as the lesson ended and I packed up my things, that thought clung to me. I would fight for my other half. I believe many would, if given the chance.

  Maybe that’s what art is for, to show the world that Reality itself is our jailor.

  [There is something strange going on,] Anansi interrupted my thoughts as I walked down the hallway toward my next lecture. Her tone carried that quiet edge that meant she was genuinely concerned. I asked her what was happening, shaping the question with a thought rather than words.

  [It may be a false alarm,] she answered, [but it’s unusual enough to mention. The eye-card you gave Malik hasn’t moved in a long while. It’s not catching any sound either. Normally, he leaves it somewhere when he sleeps, but he always picks it up once he’s awake and keeps it close.]

  Maybe he just hasn’t woken up yet?

  [I didn’t pay attention to his exact routine, but I’m fairly sure he wakes much earlier than this.]

  That was enough to twist a knot of worry in my stomach. Anansi wasn’t one to overreact. I fished my phone out of my bag and called Nickolas. He picked up after the second ring.

  “Please don’t ruin this movie night for me,” were his first words.

  “Hello to you too.”

  “Sorry,” he sighed. “I might’ve overreacted seeing your name pop up this early. I got chills seeing it pop out on the screen.”

  “That’s exactly the reaction I was aiming for,” I said, half-smiling despite myself. But the weight in my chest didn’t lift. “Still… this might actually be the right one.”

  “Oh, no,” he groaned. “What’s going on?”

  “Maybe nothing, but—is Malik around? Did he wake up yet?”

  “No, actually. Haven’t seen him this morning. Why?”

  I told him what Anansi had noticed.

  “Let me check,” he said quickly. “I was in the middle of recording a video for my channel, as I thought the morning would be quiet.” He grumbled as he walked, the sound of footsteps and shifting doors filtering through the speaker. Then, a muffled exchange. He was asking Malik’s grandma about him. Her voice was faint, but the answer was clear.

  She hadn’t seen him either.

  My heart climbed up my throat.

  “He’s not in his room,” Nick said at last, his voice lower now, serious.

  I turned on my heel and changed course. Not for the next lecture, but for the restroom, where I could vanish from sight and deal with this properly.

  “I think he might’ve done something really stupid, Nick.”

  “I’m coming with you,” he said immediately.

  “I haven’t even explained anything yet.”

  “I took responsibility for him,” his voice was sharp, unyielding now. “Wherever you’re going, pick me up first.”

  The line went dead before I could argue.

  I pushed into the nearest stall, locked the door, and in the next heartbeat, I was gone,

  slipping into my Domain like falling into deep water.

  The familiar stillness of it embraced me. I stripped out of my clothes, leaving only my underwear before calling the suit to me. The belt followed, snapping into place around my waist with a sound like inhaled air.

  Liora appeared in a burst of motion, his serpentine body looping through the air in gleaming trails of shadowlight, circling me in broad, elegant arcs. The transformation drew him like a magnet, he loved the spectacle. For a fleeting moment, the world shimmered with color, alive with movement and grace.

  “You can’t come with me this time,” I told him softly, my voice steady against the hum of the Domain. “I’ll be out in the open on Earth. I’ll call for you when I can, I promise.”

  Liora froze midair, hovering, then settled gracefully. Coiling upon nothing like an ancient statue of himself. Gravity bent politely around his whims. His scales shimmered, deepening to a verdant green, serene and regal.

  “I’ll be back soon.”

  I took one deep breath, focused on the memory stored in paint, and stepped through the veil—

  —reappearing inside Leben’s training hall.

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  Nick was already there, pacing by the corner, his jaw tight, and Damien stood beside him, arms crossed, eyes watchful. Both turned as the shimmer of my arrival faded.

  “Alexa, nice to see you,” Dam’s voice boomed across the half-destroyed basement, his presence filling the space like a heavy chord. Dust drifted in lazy spirals through the air, catching the light from the ceiling lamps. For a heartbeat, the urge to challenge him again flickered through me—he stirred something defiant in my chest—but this wasn’t the time.

  “You too, Dam,” I said, steadying my breath. “Wish the reason was different. I believe Malik went to the house I was with him in not long ago. The one where my friend used to live before it was destroyed…”

  And I told them everything that mattered: about Shiroi’s place, the man buried beneath it, Malik’s resistance to leaving him there. I left out his confession. That part felt… too raw, too uncertain, and maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t relevant. Though part of me suspected it was.

  “Sounds reasonable,” Nick said after a beat, his tone more solemn than usual. “Given Malik’s heroic streak and the force that keeps pushing him to repeat those deeds, it fits.”

  Dam nodded once, decisive as always. “Then let’s go check the house. If he’s there, we’ll find him.”

  “You’re coming too?” I asked, half-expecting him to stay behind to protect his household.

  “Yes.” His voice carried no hesitation. “If there’s something down there, I’ll see if I can help.”

  I gestured for them to come closer, and when I reached out for their shoulders, they were already raising their hands, gripping mine instead, like soldiers ready for battle. Determination glinted in both their eyes.

  “Hold on,” I warned, then twisted the world.

  The colors of reality folded in on themselves, space bending and the next breath of air was thick with the scent of ash and concrete dust. We stood amid the ruins of Akira’s house.

  I didn’t waste time. “Stay sharp,” I said, breaking into a run toward the place where I’d left the painted hole, the passage to the imprisoned man.

  Only, it wasn’t there anymore. The ground was torn apart, the concrete pulverized, the rebar jutting out like broken ribs. It looked as if someone or something had hammered through from above.

  “There was a hidden basement here,” I said, scanning the crater’s edges, my pulse rising.

  “It’s not hidden anymore,” Dam rumbled, crouching beside the jagged hole.

  “Malik could’ve broken through,” Nick added, his voice quieter, thoughtful. “Echoed punches. He’s strong enough.”

  The three of us exchanged a glance and before I could say anything, Dam simply dropped down into the hole. No hesitation. Just that deep, effortless confidence of his.

  Nick sighed, muttering something under his breath, and followed his father into the dark.

  I took a breath, pulled my mask over my face, and fed it a thread of Authority. The shadowlight run along its edges as my senses sharpened, scent blooming like a whole new spectrum of color. It wouldn’t be pleasant. It never was. But it would be effective.

  Malik’s scent hit me immediately. Fainter than before, but recognizable. And over it, thick and heavy, was the musky, coppery smell of the man who’d been imprisoned down here. Both trails led out and away from this place, but I still jumped down after the others to take a proper look.

  When I landed, I froze.

  Dam was standing in the middle of the wrecked basement, his skin glowing like a warm bulb. It wasn’t subtle, more like standing next to a sentient floodlight. The shadows fled from him, painting every broken corner in gold.

  “What the hell?” I asked, squinting. “Did you eat a lightbulb or something?”

  He grinned, the glow catching on his teeth. “Heard once that citruses make your skin brighter. Took it to heart.”

  Nick groaned. “You’ve been waiting all your life to use that one, haven’t you?”

  “There’s no one here,” Dam said, ignoring the jab as he crouched to inspect the cracked floor.

  “The unfortunate truth is that Malik was,” I replied, sniffing the air. “I can smell him.”

  “Yeah,” Dam agreed, turning toward me. His nose shifted, broadening, darkening and becoming something between human and bear.

  “Same,” Nick added. His face was already changing, his nose following suit.

  I blinked. “Did you guys eat a bear?”

  Dam puffed his chest out proudly. “Yeah, had a steak last night. Delicious.”

  I couldn’t help the smirk. “That’s not saying much. Everything you make is fantastic.”

  I reached for both of them, gripping their arms, and in a flash of bent space we were back above ground, the cool air biting against our skin.

  We all turned in the same direction. The scent lingering in the air like a luminous thread only we could perceive. It wasn’t sight, not really, but my brain painted it that way: a trail winding through the landscape, pulling us southward.

  “It’s far,” Dam said after a moment, inhaling deeply. “But still pretty fresh. I’d say… fifteen miles, maybe a little less. South from here.”

  I looked at him, genuinely impressed. “You smelled that far?”

  He grinned again, the glow of his skin dimming into a faint shimmer. “When you eat enough bear, you start to pick up a few tricks.”

  “How the hell can you pinpoint it with such accuracy? I can’t smell that far.”

  Dam smirked over his shoulder. “You’re stuck with that rabbit nose of yours. Bears have the best sense of smell on the planet. Paint yourself a bear nose, girl.”

  “I will,” I shot back, half annoyed, half amused. “When I have the time. Seems like an obvious upgrade.”

  “You teleported here with Malik, right? Where exactly are we?” Nick asked.

  “Traverse Ave, Yonkers,” I replied, stepping around a broken lamp “Yeah, we teleported. I have no idea how Malik knew where to go. Maybe something to do with his echo domain or he just recognized the place. You’ll have to ask him when we find him.”

  We passed a closed garage, its metal door dented. All three of us slowed down, glancing at it in silent agreement.

  “We aren’t in Ideworld,” Nick said. “A car ride would be faster.”

  Dam didn’t waste a second. He marched up, grabbed the bottom of the gate, and yanked it upward with enough force to make the entire structure groan and shift in its foundation. Dust and debris rained down as the door screeched open.

  It was a miracle the building survived the explosion and an even greater one that it survived Dam.

  Unfortunately, there was no car. Just a chaos of toppled shelves, broken tools, and in the middle of it all, a single black motorbike. Sleek, half-buried under the mess. Not the same one Akira had used to chase me, but definitely from the same breed of trouble.

  Dam grinned, clearly pleased. He grabbed the bike by the handlebars and hoisted it upright like it weighed nothing. “You kids see any keys to this thing?”

  We both started looking, though the mess made it hopeless. Piles of tools, cans, and oily cloths covered everything.

  “Check the obvious spots,” I said, heading toward a metal box bolted to the wall. “People love hiding keys in plain sight.”

  Behind me, I heard the faint click of metal on metal. I saw him, using the back eye on my hood. Dam crouched by the ignition, doing something very illegal.

  “You can’t run the bike without a key,” I said. “It closes the circuit. Without it, ignition won’t start.”

  He gave me a sly look over his shoulder, a bear with a mechanic’s grin. “Oh, I know,” Dam said, and the engine suddenly came alive with a low, confident roar. His grin stretched wider, bright as the headlight flickering on.

  “How the hell did you do that?” I asked impressed. Meanwhile Nick reached for his phone and called a number. Malik’s most likely.

  He chuckled. “With magic!” he declared grandly, then noticed my stare. “Alright, alright. Fine. I turned my hair into tiny tentacles, wiggled them into the keyhole to fill the shape just right. Then I hardened them into iron and snapped off the makeshift key. Simple.”

  I couldn’t help it, I laughed. “You are a capable thief, my friend. That’s a dangerously useful talent.”

  He puffed out his chest. “It’s not too late for you to join our Domain!” he bellowed, sounding both joking and deadly serious.

  Before I could answer, Nick cut in dryly, “We can’t all three use the bike.” He gave his father a look. “And I’m definitely not staying.” He hid a phone back into his pocket, face disappointed.

  Dam’s grin faltered just a little, softening into something almost solemn. “I understand, son. I’ll run behind you while you two take the bike.”

  “I can drive,” I offered automatically. It was true. The only vehicle I’d ever learned properly. Cars always felt like cages to me, but motorbikes? They were freedom. Penrose made sure I got the license back when I was sixteen.

  Nick shook his head. “I’ll do it, Alexa.” His tone was calm but left no room for argument.

  I met his gaze for a moment, then exhaled, a smile tugging at my lips. “Alright, Nick. You drive.”