The people around them fell silent.
Lapsus stared at Blossom in confusion. "Who even are you?"
An awkward silence followed. Mortis cleared his throat loudly and stepped up behind Blossom.
"Uh… please don't judge my—" he paused.
"…my little sister. She gets very excited when she sees good fighters."
Blossom blinked. "Sister?"
Lapsus looked between the two of them, her gaze sharp and judgmental, as if weighing their worth.
Mortis could hear people snickering around them and did his best to keep a straight face.
"I promise she's a very good—"
"Are you cultists?" Lapsus asked suddenly.
Mortis froze. "Huh? Wha—"
Blossom nodded eagerly. "Yes! Yes, we are cultists. Also… what's a cultist?"
Suddenly, a loud explosion went off somewhere nearby. People began to scream.
…Wait. Were they cheering?
Lapsus frowned. "It's too noisy here. Let's talk somewhere else."
"Wait, we have to find Malachai!" Mortis said, as Blossom immediately began bouncing with excitement.
They pushed through the crowd, getting jostled from all sides. Mortis held tightly onto Blossom's hand while Lapsus led the way, almost glowing like a guiding star.
"What does the man you're looking for look like?" Lapsus asked calmly.
"Uh… red robes… white hair…" Mortis replied.
"Oh. You mean like that?" she said, pointing toward a stage in the corner.
Mortis' mouth fell open.
Malachai—in all his cultist glory—was hula-hooping while tap-dancing and juggling ten spoons. The crowd cheered and clapped wildly.
Lapsus looked impressed. "He has skill. Is he your brother?"
She glanced at Blossom.
Blossom looked at Mortis.
Mortis didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "Yes. Yes, he is our brother."
Lapsus nodded, satisfied. "You have strong genes. What are your skills?"
Blossom immediately sprang into action, baring her fists, bending her knees, and flipping backward twice. The nearby crowd quickly stepped away to avoid getting hit.
Lapsus clapped politely. Blossom beamed.
"And you?" Lapsus asked, turning to Mortis.
He shrank slightly. "I am the… un-special sibling."
Lapsus looked at him with pity. "How unfortunate."
Mortis bit back a laugh. "Right. We should get him back."
Leaving Blossom—still buzzing with energy—with Lapsus, Mortis pushed through the crowd toward the stage.
The moment Malachai saw him, his face went pale. He dropped the hula hoops and spoons—most of which landed on a random man's head—and screamed, "IT WAS HIM, NOT ME!"
Mortis smiled weakly. "Should we go?"
Malachai nodded immediately and followed him back.
He paused when he saw Lapsus teaching Blossom how to wield a sword—though Blossom was using a stick.
"She's Blossom's new mentor," Mortis explained.
Malachai still looked confused, but nodded anyway.
"Shall we?" Mortis asked.
Lapsus nodded and sheathed her blade. Blossom copied her, stuffing the stick into her pocket, then beamed when Lapsus patted her head.
Lapsus led them out of the club and into a narrow street lined with vendors selling all sorts of strange items.
"What was that place called, anyway?" Mortis asked.
Lapsus opened her mouth to answer, but Malachai spoke first.
"It's called 'The Holding.'"
Lapsus closed her mouth.
Malachai didn't seem to notice.
Mortis smiled.
He's really having fun here… a little too much.