Flashback - two days earlier
The grand hall was cavernous, its ceiling a cathedral drome etched with golden filigree. Light from crystalline orbs floated near the rafters, casting long, elegant beams that pooled against the obsidian floors. The air was still, heavy with the silence of anticipation.
Elijah Neri stood in the center, calm as a statue. His dark scarf fluttered lazily around his shoulders like it was breathing. Across from him, Vera Solokov and Laszio Kovács circled slowly, their footsteps barely making a sound on the gleaming floor.
Vincent lounged on a bench nearby, arms folded behind his head, watching with the bemused patience of someone enjoying a slow burn.
Vera moved first, flicking forward in a blur. Her hands shimmered with concentrated light, not raw force. She flattened herself. Her body folding in on itself into a flickering paper-thin silhouette that slid low across the ground like a loose sheet of silk on a gust.
She darted under his reach, twisting through the air with impossible agility, a single flattened hand slicing upward like a blade. But Elijah didn't even blink. A tendril of black, wreathed in dense shadow, unspooled from beneath his feet and formed a claw-like shield, catching her with a dull smack that sent her fluttering backward in an elegant arc.
Laszio was faster. He pivoted his wrist mid-run and splashed down a pitch-black circle under Elijah, five meters wide, swirling gently with a gravitational hum. Another circle glimmered behind him near a column.
Instant teleportation. He was trying to disorient.
Elijah took one deliberate step left, letting the shadows of the pillar stretch over him like armour, before the teleport activated. He disappeared just before Laszio could emerge behind him. The two others whipped their heads around.
Behind him, Elijah rose out of the floor like liquid shadow turned solid.
"You're both too loud," he said. "Too wide. Too generous with your tells. Also Laszio, you should get used to constantly teleporting."
Laszio groaned.
Elijah spoke again. "It doesn't matter how disorienting it is. You will get used to it the more you use it."
Vera reassembled into full form, dusting her arms. "I nearly had you."
"No you didn't." Elijah said, shaking his head. "You nearly grazed a shadow of me."
Off to another side, sitting atop a wide obsidian bench with one leg lazily thrown over the other, Vincent Coulby clapped mockingly. "Bravo. Elijah's a damn specter, I swear. Should've named you Ghost-boy or we can just start calling you Edge-lord."
Elijah offered no smile. He was already scanning the room, sensing a shift in the air. The tone. The temperature.
He wasn't wrong.
The massive iron doors creaked open, thick with the sound of old weight, and in stepped the pillar of Law Alfred Stein.
His presence made the room still.
He walked with a calculated waddle, part limp, part learned theatrically. Dressed in a traditionally high collared trench of pure grey, his hands folded behind his back, the left one gloved, the right one bare and worn with time. His expression was pinched with distaste as if the very air here disagreed with him.
No one bowed. But everyone shifted. Even Vincent sat up straighter.
"Circle up," Alfred said, his voice dry, coarse, and commanding. "Now."
The four moved. Elijah was first, silent. Vera glanced once at Laszio before stepping into place. Vincent sauntered, smirking. Laszio pulled the black paint from his fingers into a tight ball before pocketing it.
Alfred regarded them without warmth.
"I won't waste time," he said, eyes sweeping across their faces. "I'm giving you the green light. The mission is confirmed. You're going to engage and eliminate two individuals during the Trials. Corbin Monet and Ruben Rayo."
A breath of confusion fluttered through Vera. Laszio's brow ticked. Vincent gave a quiet, "Oooh."
Elijah spoke first. "You sure?"
Alfred locked eyes on him. "Do I look unsure?"
"No," Elijah replied, and gave the faintest nod. "Then I assume you want our strategy submitted to review tonight?"
Even though he hated doing it, he found it outdated and unnecessary, he didn't want any hassle with the old man.
Alfred exhaled, the sound disgusted. "Later. First, you need to understand the why?"
He turned slightly. "The weakest among you is Vera."
Vera stiffened. "Excuse me…?"
Elijah cut in. "That's true. Barring Vincent." She didn't know how capable Vincent was in a fight and she didn't need to.
"Hey!" Vincent barked.
Alfred ignored them both. "I already know that. Don't repeat what's obvious. I've had each of you monitored since year one."
He stepped closer, his limp dragging his foot faintly. "This mission is not just about results. It's about sending a message. Ruben and Corbin were adopted by Dario Kosta two years ago."
Silence.
That was like lead the way it settled in the chest of those that didn't know. Laszio and Vera. From what Elijah knew it was a big secret. It was understandable, especially if you knew the Warlord's history and how many enemies he actually has.
Yet even if they all teamed up, they would just be marching to their deaths.
Vera's voice came in soft, almost questioning. "But… Dario doesn't even have a family. Why would he want to take in some random kids?"
Alfred's jaw tightened. His voice dipped.
"And I've bled more than he ever will." His eyes were sharp, dry with contempt. "While he gets to parade himself as some kind of demi-god, I've rooted out the rot beneath our nation's smile. Dario hides his hand now, weakens our borders, empowers the wrong types."
He took another step. "We could be one crack away from collapse because of his growing lenience. If outsiders ever learn how soft we've become we'll be colonized before morning prayers."
Alfred's breath stuttered for a second, like his anger outran his lungs.
Elijah raised a hand. "You've made your point. We understand the stakes. We're ready."
Vera's voice piped up again. "But I still want to become a Paladin… if this.. If this fails…"
Alfred waved her off with a scoff. "You children. It's a permission slip. One which I will be able to provide after you have completed your job and I, my mission."
Vince muttered under his breath, "Do I get a statue?"
"Shut up." Alfred said.
Vincent mock-saluted. "Sir, yes, sir."
Alfred turned fully to Elijah now. "You'll lead them. Even though you act the fool, you are competent and your Ego makes the role yours."
Elijah nodded.
"Corbin and Ruben are dangerous entities," Alfred continued. "And I believe that Dario will be using them against me soon. Part of a larger plan Dario seeded long ago. I will not allow for them to be watered."
He inhaled again, slower. "When I take my rightful place at the helm of this nation, the people will know who safeguarded its future. And you will be rewarded."
"What's next?" Elijah asked, folding his arms.
Alfred looked past him, toward the looming ceiling.
"Just focus on this part."
He turned without sound before calling out to Elijah again. "Walk with me Elijah."
Elijah followed and he walked with his mentor in silence for a long minute. Once they were far from the others Alfred began to speak.
"Whether they die or not the mission will be a success."
Elijah raised a brow and looked at him. "Excuse me?"
"You and Vincent will make sure of that."
Elijah was a little confused but he has been around Alfred long enough now. He knows that he is expecting the most out of him whenever he acts like this.
"Vera or Lazsio. Choose who suits the group better."
Elijah thought on it for a second, he didn't even need that long though.
"Laszio."
Alfred nodded. "Exactly. He's quiet. Knows how to follow orders and has a useful Ego."
Elijah mentally ticked off all of that as Alfred continued speaking.
"Make sure that if the two boys don't die, that Vera does. Her death can still be used for our purpose."
Elijah shrugged and nodded. He had no attachment to the group. They could all die in the worst ways possible right now. He wouldn't even blink, they would just be replaced and another team would be built around him. He was the star of the show.
"Those two came from the same orphanage right?" Elijah asked.
"No." Alfred said. "They come from the Ninth Door."
The what?
Elijah had never heard of such a place. He thought maybe orphanage, but he knows that no orphanage would use the number nine in their name like that. People cling to their superstitions tightly in Ostara, even Alfred does somewhat.
"Don't ask about it. I will tell you more when the time comes. Just know that they all have a tattoo of the number nine on their body somewhere. They all belong to me."
That didn't sound too great but Elijah was fine with it. But what would he feel from it, he knows nothing of it. He might kill off Vera anyway just to see who comes next and see if he can find out more about it. It intrigues him.
***
It felt like a drop but he realized he had just appeared in another location. Ruben had only taken one step into the room when Elijah turned.
It was quiet. They stood on tiled stone, humidity thick in the air. Fluorescent lights hummed softly above, casting sterile reflections across the water of an Olympic-sized indoor pool. Lounge chairs were stacked in odd piles.
People… no, those things, they were scattered around in swimwear, laughing silently, smiling with frozen expressions, their movements lagged and they all looked alike.
And in the center stood Elijah Neri, barefoot, his sleeves rolled up like he was preparing for something cruel.
"Elijah," Ruben said, voice low. "What is this?"
Elijah cracked his neck. Slowly. Then from the coiled black shadow at his feet, a blade rose.
It emerged like a memory surfacing through ink. A long, curved sword covered in darkness, slick and glimmering like wet obsidian. It hovered, unsheathed and humming, its edge breathing in the light.
Ruben's eyes widened. His fists clenched.
"I thought…" Ruben began, swallowing. "I thought we were both here trying to be Paladin. Why are you doing this?"
Elijah's grin was faint, crooked. "I'm just doing my job." He said in a light tone. "Truly there's nothing greater tied to this."
And then he moved.
Ruben ducked, pure instinct. A silver arc carved above his head. The blade had already been mid-swing.
Too fast.
He rolled backward, using the momentum to twist out of the way as the second blow crashed where he'd been. The floor cracked. He landed lightly on his feet, arms half-raised, heart hammering in his chest.
"Elijah, Stop!" Ruben shouted.
The sword whistled again, but Ruben surged in close this time, clapping his hands around the blade mid-swing. His palm burned from the pressure. He raised his knee to stop Elijah from following through.
He scowled, a lot more aggravated now.
"I said stop!" Ruben growled.
But Elijah only grinned wider. "Fight me."
The words hit like a nail driven through Ruben's skull.
He gasped, not from pain, but the ongoing pressure that was invading its way through his skull. His mental. The command burrowed into him like a suggestion that ignored reason. His legs tensed and his arm moved.
And then…
CRACK!
His fist slammed into Elijah's cheek, sending him flying backwards into a wall of glass that bordered the pool. It spiderwebbed with impact. Water rippled from the crack.
Ruben stood frozen. Eyes wide. He hadn't wanted to throw that punch.
"I didn't mean…" he started, breath short, "I didn't… Elijah, we don't have to do this."
Laughter broke the air. Elijah wiped blood from his chin, still smiling, something like admiration glinting in his eyes.
"You pack a punch," he said, getting to his feet.
He rotated his jaw once with a faint crack. "I don't like getting hit. That's why I chose not to fight against Corbin. Just preference, since his Ego is of the Strongman class."
Ruben's brow furrowed. He thought of Corbin and Rosette. They were probably trapped in similar situations too.
He didn't have time to think. Not with Elijah standing like that, relaxed, but coiled. Like a lion with all the time in the world.
"Who are you working for?" Ruben asked.
Elijah tilted his head. "You're looking at it wrong," he said, brushing imaginary dust from his shoulders. "In this space. I am the one giving the orders."
He smiled. And Ruben registered the words barely before a chill ran down his spine. He twisted instinctively and dove to the side as something cut through the space he'd just occupied, a flash of movement, a shadow.
He landed in a crouch and spun.
Behind him stood a person, or what looked like one. Blank eyes. Muted expression. One of the fake people that were swimming in the pool judging by the fresh water dripping off of their person.
Now it had a jagged piece of metal in its twitching hands.
The others were rising too.
Their smiles stretched too far. Their heads tilted in unnatural, synchronized angles. A ripple moved through them like an ocean wave in flesh. They moved toward him, slow but inevitable.
Elijah's voice cut through the air. "I control the shadows, Ruben. Every flicker in this place, it could be a part of me."
In other words, he was telling him to watch his step.
Elijah leaned against a column like this was a game. "And right now? My job… is to kill you."
Ruben backed up, dodging, ducking, spinning between cold hands and flicking blades. Every time he blinked, they were closer. Laughing in silence. Their faces looked similar, like bad sketches.
"Elijah…" Ruben gasped, pushing off a diving board to gain some space. "Was it you?"
Elijah blinked. "Hm?"
"Darius," Ruben growled. "Was it your order? To kill Darius?"
Ruben had a tense and dangerous tone. He couldn't feel the cooling difference as within his body was aflame.
Elijah looked mildly amused. He let out a sigh.
"I didn't order it."
He smiled.
"I did it."
A man's hopes and dreams, gone. Just like that. And for what? Elijah never provided an answer, nothing serious. Every time he spoke, no matter the subject, its importance all felt so fickle.
Ruben finally let go and realized… he realized there would be no talking with Elijah. No pulling him out. No offering peace.
Elijah had chosen this. Ruben had looked at him with no fear.
The cold smirking boy in front of him was different from him in every way. He wasn't the quiet loner in class, he chose to be alone to hide his dark tendencies.
He had trusted that he was just the weird and timid boy in the back of class. He had trusted that face.
And it had tried to kill him.
The pool lights flickered. The shadows surged.
You will die a second time, something inside of him whispered.
"No," Ruben said aloud. His voice leveled and clear.
"I won't."
Something inside him stilled. The storm didn't disappear, it condensed. Hardened into something sharp.
He was done dodging.
He was done flinching.
He can't save those who don't want to be saved.
I also don't plan on dying a second time.
The human clones surrounded him, swarming him.
And then…
BOOOM.
Ruben's foot hit the ground hard, the marble cracking beneath the pressure of his step. He blurred, a streak of movement that cut through the crowd like lightning. A single breath passed them too fast for the eye.
His fist was pulled back, cocked.
Elijah's eyes finally widened.