He never felt the click.

Instead, a silver streak hissed through the air, faster than the eye could track. Kurt’s switchblade launched with the full force of his might, tearing through the air. There was a wet, crunching sound as the blade buried itself through Tobias’s wrist, pinning his arm to the ornate wood-paneled wall behind him.

"A-ARGHH!"

The remote slipped from his nerveless fingers. Kurt was already moving, his body a blur of shadow. He caught the remote mid-air, his boots skidding on the wine-soaked silk of the floor.

"Not today, you pathetic parasite."

Tobias screamed in pain and pure agony. But he was a man fueled by a lifetime of dark devotion and blood magic. With his free hand, he drew the obsidian dagger from the back of his trousers. He didn’t try to pull his pinned hand free and just launched himself forward, swinging his dagger straight down at Kurt.

Kurt tried to twist away, but the confined space of the bedroom betrayed him. The black edge tore through his skin and bit deep into his shoulder, slicing through muscle and scraping the bone.

"Urgh!" He let out a sharp hiss of pain, clutching the remote tight in his left hand as he shoved Tobias back.

"You think a little blood will stop the inevitable?" Tobias spat, his pinned wrist tearing further as he wrenched himself away from the wall, leaving the switchblade behind. His arm hung limp, but his eyes were glowing with a terrifying pulse of crimson light. "I have given everything to this cause! You’re not stopping me after I came this far!"

"Then let’s see just how far your resolve will take you!" Kurt retorted, his Mana Coating flaring brilliantly around his knuckles, only to vanish instantly.

"Hahaha! Look who’s out of mana!"

"I don’t need it for taking out scum like you anyway."

"JUST DIE ALREADY, ROSSANA!"

"I COULD SAY THE SAME, TOBIAS!"

CLASH!

.....

The fight spilled back through the shattered glass doors and onto the rain-lashed balcony. The storm had reached a fever pitch, the thunder drowning out the sound of their steel clashing. They moved across the stone landing like two starving predators, the mud and blood making every step a gamble.

Kurt used his martial arts to compensate for his lack of mana and wounded shoulder, leading with his good side. He delivered a brutal roundhouse kick that Tobias caught with a forearm that felt like solid iron. The bishop countered with a spray of blood from his torn wrist, the droplets hardening into crimson needles mid-air. Kurt ducked, the needles embedding themselves into the panel frame behind him.

"You’re struggling, boy!" Tobias laughed. "I can feel your heart hammering! It’s such a loud, frantic thing! It will look so beautiful in a jar!"

"Keep talking, Tobias! It makes it easier to find your throat!" Kurt lunged, using a low sweep to take the bishop’s legs, but Tobias leaped over the strike, swinging the obsidian dagger in a lethal horizontal cut.

Kurt barely managed to dodge. They then separated, standing a few feet apart in the freezing downpour.

Tobias suddenly stood still. He lowered his head, a low, melodic chanting beginning to vibrate in his chest. Slowly, he raised his uninjured arm. Dark, blood-coloured lines began to etch themselves into his skin.

’Those markings!’

"NO–!" Kurt charged, his fist cocked back for strike. But it was too late. Tobias slammed his dagger into the markings of his palm on his own hand, a shockwave of crimson energy erupting outward.

Everything inside his body turned into an invisible, gelatinous weight. He was frozen in mid-stride, a statue of flesh and bone held in place by Tobias’ twisted magic.

Tobias limped forward, his face a mask of triumph. He reached out and slowly, almost delicately, plucked the remote from Kurt’s pocket.

"I told you, Rossana," Tobias whispered, his face inches from Kurt’s. "You lose."

He stepped back, holding the remote high like a holy relic.

’C’mon body move! We’ve been through this before! NOW MOVE!’

Right as Tobias’ thumb began to apply pressure, Kurt’s Adaptation skill flared with a white-hot intensity. The "Lock" didn’t break entirely, but Kurt’s body forced a singular, violent motion through the paralysis. He lunged forward with his head, putting every ounce of his soul into a brutal headbutt.

"What the–!"

CRACK!

The sound of Tobias’s nose shattering was like a gunshot. The bishop stumbled back, falling off the railing and down on the wet stone. He gasped, blood spraying from his face, but as he hit the ground...

His thumb finally found the red button.

"I... win..." Tobias wheezed, his eyes wide with a manic, dying joy.

"NO! DON’T DO IT!"

Kurt reached out helplessly from the balcony, but it was too late.

Click

BOOOOM!

The entire estate shook under the impact of the explosion.

Kurt froze. His Adaptation skill had already completely freed him from Tobias’ hold, but he didn’t move. Couldn’t move. He laid there, arm still reached out across the balcony, his mouth open in a silent, horrified scream. The world seemed to go quiet, the rain turning into a dull hum.

’W–What....?’

"Ha! Hahaha! AHAHAHA! There! There go my precious blood bags, Rossana! All that work... all that blood... for nothing. They’re charcoal and ash now. And it’s your fault. If you hadn’t come, they would have at least lived until they proved to be useless. Now? Now they’re just meat."

He looked at Kurt, expecting to see a man broken by grief, a man ready to surrender. "Don’t worry," Tobias mocked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "The Goddess is merciful. She’ll take care of them in the afterlife. She loves the little ones."

Kurt didn’t scream. Nor did he cry.

He dropped down.

Thud!

And began to walk.

His movements were slow, blank, and utterly devoid of hesitation. His eye no longer had its rich, sapphire glow; it was a dark, void-like deep blue that seemed to absorb the very light of the storm. To Tobias, didn’t look like a human being anymore. He looked like an avatar of inevitable, silent death.

Tobias’s laughter died in his throat. He saw the look in Kurt’s eye and felt a coldness that his blood magic couldn’t warm.

He tried to scramble to get up, but the impact of his fall and the utter exhaustion he felt made him slip and tumble back on the wet stone, beneath the statue of Goddess Bula.

By the time he turned around, Kurt was already on him.

What proceeded next was an assault. Kurt tackled Tobias, the force of the impact sending them skidding across the stone. Kurt mounted him, locking his legs tight around Tobias’s waist, pinning the man and ensuring he didn’t get away.

Tobias screamed, driving the obsidian dagger into Kurt’s thigh, again and again.

"Release me! Release me, you heathen!"

Stab! Stab! Stab!

Kurt didn’t flinch. He didn’t even blink. He didn’t even feel the blade. All he could feel, all he could hear, was the sound of that explosion.

Kurt raised his fist, brass knuckles equipped and struck.

THWACK!

He punched Tobias in the face with the full weight of what little Strengthening Magic he had left. Then again.

THWACK!

Then an elbow to the temple.

CRACK!

And again.

THWACK!

And again.

CRACK!

Kurt began to beat the ever-living hell out of the man beneath him. This wasn’t tactical, nor was it graceful. It was primal destruction.

He punched until his knuckles were shredded, until the brass of his knuckles was bent and red. He punched until Tobias’s nose was gone, until his teeth were splinters, until the bishop’s face was a pulp of purple and red.

"ROSIE!"

A voice cut through the rain from the garden below. Diana appeared in a ripple of crimson light. She stood at the edge of the balcony, her eyes wide as she saw the scene.

THWACK!

THWACK!

THWACK!

"Rosie, stop! It’s over!"

Kurt didn’t listen. He raised both hands, bringing them down in a double-fisted hammer blow that cracked the stone tile beneath Tobias’s mushy head. He was screaming a long, agonizing howl of pure loss as he continued beating.

Diana teleported. She appeared directly over him, holding Kurt’s body. Her touch was gentle, but Kurt thrashed her away with a cold and desperate shove.

"Get off me! He killed them! He killed the kids! I have to kill him!"

"He’s already dead, Rosie!" Diana screamed back, her voice cracking as she fought to hold him. "Look at him! He’s gone!"

Kurt shoved her away again and lunged at the body, landing one more sickening punch into the mess that used to be a face.

Diana didn’t hesitate this time. She tackled Kurt, pinning him to the ground away from the corpse. She wrapped her arms around him, locking him in a tight, iron-strength embrace.

"Rosie! Stop! Look at me!" she pleaded, her platinum hair whipping in the wind. "Tobias is dead! It’s over! Come back to me, Rosie!"

Kurt kept thrashing, his boots scraping against the stone, his fingers clawing at Diana’s cloak. "He killed them! Toby... and the girl... they’re all gone! Get off me! I have to finish it!"

"No! Look at me!"

Diana leaned down, burying her face against his neck and holding him with a fierce, desperate warmth that shielded him from the freezing rain. She didn’t let go. She let him fight her, let him scream into her shoulder, let him exhaust the poison of his rage against her own body.

Slowly, the thrashing began to subside. Kurt’s muscles, pushed far beyond their breaking point, finally began to fail. His breaths turned into jagged, shuddering sobs. He slumped against her; his forehead resting on her shoulder and silently began grieving.

.....

Ten minutes passed. The rain slowed to a drizzle. With Diana’s help, Kurt stood up. His movements were stiff and robotic. He stood over the body of Tobias. Just a heap pile of silk trousers and ruined flesh. He stared down with no life in his eyes, feeling empty, as if the explosion had hollowed out his own chest.

Diana stood beside him, firmly holding his hand. She could still feel the slight tremors wracking his frame.

"Hope," Kurt whispered her name. "I promised her..."

He turned away from the body; his gaze fixed on the stone ground. He didn’t want to see the estate. He didn’t want to see the light. He just wanted to get away.

"Kurt!"

Emelie burst through the side gate, her telekinetic aura dragging a small girl behind her. She skidded to a stop on the patio, her eyes darting between Diana, the battered Kurt, and the unrecognizable corpse of the bishop.

"Gods... Kurt, what happened? You look like..."

"It doesn’t matter," Kurt said, his voice flat, his eye fixed on the ground. "I failed. Tobias pressed the button. The children... they’re dead, Emelie. The underground cell exploded. I heard it. I felt it..."

Emelie stopped. She looked at him for a long, confusing second, and then a strange, weary smile touched her lips.

"No, Kurt," she said softly, stepping forward and placing a hand on his uninjured shoulder. "They’re not dead."

Kurt paused. He slowly turned his head, searching her face for the lie. "What?"

"Kurt?" A little girl came out from behind Emelie.

"Hope?"