John didn’t hesitate. He pivoted and leapt, clearing three or four steps at a time in a frantic descent. He crossed the distance in a blur of motion, his heart hammering hard with excitement.

Yet, when he reached the bottom, he found nothing but cold, empty air. The silhouette had vanished as if it had evaporated the moment he moved to intercept it. And he found himself inside a huge basement, poorly lit, extending as far as his eyes could tell.

"I know you are here," John growled, his hand hovering near his waist. He didn’t lower his guard for a second. He knew what he saw, and his eyes didn’t make mistakes when it came to seeing codes. "Come out. Let’s save both of us the trouble of a hunt."

John realised he had been relying on Frame Recognition in his haste, the close-range ability. That explained why he missed his target despite his hasty descent.

The target must have heard his hurried steps and went to hide. Realising this made John instantly shift his perception, activating Wireframe Sight.

He expected the world to peel back, revealing the codes of the cyborg at a far distance. But as the ability got activated, the world didn’t transform into the familiar green grid.

Instead, a thick, oily black fog began to bleed into his vision. It spread with unnatural speed, swallowing the walls, the floor, and eventually creeping up his own limbs.

"Agh!"

John stumbled back, his hands flying to his face. It was the first time his abilities had encountered interference like this in Athanasia. Before he could even attempt to think of what happened or what he should do, an agonising pain seared through his eyes. It felt like needles made of liquid fire were being driven into his eyes and brain.

"You have been acting naughtily of late, Mr Mirage."

The pain was blinding, but hearing that familiar voice ignited a fire of hatred that burned even hotter than the agony in his eyes. John gritted his teeth, forcing his eyes open despite the tears blurring his vision. He looked around the black-fogged world, his gaze murderous.

"No matter what you try, you bastard, I’ll always beat you. Every single time!" John roared. However, his voice lacked its usual sharp edge; he felt a terrifying lethargy spreading through his muscles. The fog wasn’t just a visual toxin; it was a parasitic intrusion, consuming him from the inside out.

"Not this time, Mr Mirage. Not this time, hehehe," Mark’s disdainful voice echoed directly inside John’s skull, impossible to pin to a single location.

"I’ve spent a great deal of time analysing your little toy, that faulted program you carry within you. The one that changed, evolved, and turned into a guide for you. I know its architecture now. I know its weaknesses."

"You know nothing!" John roared back. His fury finally began to override the encroaching weakness, his body adapting to the sensory assault with the stubbornness of a warrior facing his nemesis. He forced himself to stand erect, his posture defiant even as the black fog swirled around him.

Without a flinch, John tapped into his system interface and summoned his inventory. In a flash of light, his sword appeared in his grip. The weight of the familiar hilt gave him a momentary anchor in the chaos.

"And once I’m done with you, I’ll kill that pathetic puppet you sent here, just like the thousand others I slaughtered in the pocket trial!"

"That? Yes, you dealt me a significant blow back then, I won’t lie," Mark said. His voice, however, was disturbingly devoid of rage or annoyance. Instead, it sounded light, almost as if he were genuinely amused by the unfolding chaos.

"And thanks to that, I learned a lot more about your beloved helper. You see, I was dormant most of the time when I was inside you, inside him. But after that painful loss, I started to piece the fragments together..."

Mark’s voice suddenly cut off, leaving a ringing silence that stretched for several agonising moments. John kept looking, his eyes darting frantically, trying to pierce through the suffocating veil of the black fog with his ability, but to no avail. The darkness felt sentient, fighting hard against Frame Recognition.

"I know your weakness now, and I promise you... I will make you pay a price so heavy that you’ll lose everything you hold dear to your heart..."

"Screw you!" John roared. Hearing Mark’s voice materialise from his right, he instantly slashed his sword in a wide, desperate arc toward the sound. The blade whistled through the air, but it struck nothing but empty fog.

"Hahaha! I’ll make sure you lose everything, one by one, piece by piece. I swear, I’ll watch you crumble and fall until you weep blood, and eventually, you will fail. And... I’ll start with the person most important to you. I’ll kill the one who is doing something big for you right now, far away from your reach, hahaha!"

The moment Mark uttered those words, it felt as if a gate to hell had opened inside John’s chest. A single image flashed with terrifying clarity in his mind.

Cissel.

She was out there, watching the construction of his club base. John didn’t know she was trailing him in the shadows, following his very steps to this trap. The thought of her falling into Mark’s scheme because of his negligence ignited a volcanic surge of adrenaline.

"Cissel... I won’t let you touch her, you sick bastard! Lightning Dance!"

Without a second thought, fueled by a cocktail of blinding rage and bottomless worry, John activated the lethal AOE special effect of his sword. He didn’t care about the damage that would befall the building or the students above.

Blue-white electrical shadows exploded from his blade, surging outward in hungry streaks. He watched as the unnatural darkness was swallowed and crushed by the lightning shadows of his sword slash, the sheer force finally clearing the thick veil and bringing the world back to its normal state.

But as the fog dissipated, the light revealed a sight that turned his blood to ice.

"C... Cissel..."

His body froze for a heartbeat. In his vision, he spotted her. She wasn’t far away at all; she was standing less than fifty meters from him. She hadn’t been far from his reach as Mark had taunted; she had been right behind him. And now, she was standing directly within the epicentre of the fierce, indiscriminate lightning sword shadows of his own attack.

"Run! Get away, now!" he screamed at her, his voice cracking.

He instantly dashed in the opposite direction, trying to pull the centre of the lightning field away from her, desperately attempting to clear the distance. But his sword’s special effect was a merciless storm; it was designed for total annihilation and did not distinguish between friend and foe once unleashed.

He didn’t know why she was there or how long she had been watching him. But the moment his mind was kicked free from the initial shock, it was flooded by an immense, suffocating fear and worry. His body acted on pure impulse, dashing away to pull the reins of attack off her, but the damage had already been dealt.

"J... John..."

Her voice was a stuttered whisper that barely reached him. Her body began to gush blood from dozens of lacerations caused by the attack. She swayed, her strength failing. Her body was falling.

"H... Help... Help me..."

Those were the last words she uttered before her knees buckled and she collapsed to the cold floor. The sound of her body hitting the ground squeezed John’s heart with a cold grip before shattering it into a thousand pieces.

What made it even worse was the fact that he couldn’t even move a muscle and hold her bloodied body in his arms. His attack was still running, and he was forced to watch her fall like this, not moving a muscle to help.

"Hehehe," Mark’s voice drifted through the corridor once more, sounding like a distant, sinister echo from a nightmare.

"I told you I’d tear apart everything you hold dear. And this? This is just a teaser. A small taste of the despair to come. Soon enough, you’ll lose another friend, another ally on your side... And eventually... You’ll lose everything, hehehe!"

John didn’t even look toward the source of the voice. He didn’t care about the hidden cyborg or the presence of his sworn enemy.

He didn’t even notice the students who were now converging from the depths of the basement, starting to flood here from the upper levels, drawn by the thunderous explosion that had shaken the building to its foundations.

"Hold tight!"

The moment the lightning effects fully vanished, he blurred across the floor. He scooped Cissel’s weak, devastated body into his arms. She felt terrifyingly light, her blood staining his uniform a deep, wet crimson.

"Stay with me! I’m taking you to the infirmary right now! Just stay with my voice, Cissel! Don’t you dare close your eyes!"

As he sprinted through the corridors, running as if there were no tomorrow, he looked down at her face. Her eyes were darting fitfully under her lids, which were slowly, agonisingly, starting to close.