Smoke. Screams. The scent of burnt flour and chaos still clung to them like guilt.
Eight people. One alley. Zero plans.
Talis ran like a man who owed rent in three different districts.
"We're not gonna outrun them forever!" Linda snapped, ducking under a low pipe. "Where are we even going?!"
"I WAS GONNA ASK THAT!" Drey shouted, still carrying Nyssa like a sack of potatoes with too many opinions.
Zoren, calmly jogging beside the chaos, adjusted his pace with eerie composure. "Where exactly are we going?"
Talis turned over his shoulder mid-sprint, white hair flailing. "To safety! Trust me!"
Zoren raised an eyebrow. "That's not an answer."
Ivar wheezed beside him. "It's barely even a direction."
Aiden, still holding his glowing dagger and a now cold chicken leg, muttered, "I just wanna know why the cart smelled like cabbage and regret."
Talis skidded to a stop at a crossroads, pointed dramatically like a stage magician in a chase scene. "This way! Grandma Jara's house!"
Everyone froze.
"WHO?!" the group chorused.
Talis beamed. "She's wise. Gentle. Bakes cookies that can stop a war. Only met her last week. Might be a retired mercenary. Possibly used to poison governors."
Zoren blinked. "You trust a woman you met last week?"
"She made me tea," Talis said solemnly. "And didn't stab me once."
"That's your bar for trust?" Nyssa coughed.
Franklin, lava energy crackling at his arms, glared back toward the approaching storm. "That Black Ember Squad's catching up. We need to split. Someone's gotta hold them back."
He looked at Zoren.
Zoren didn't look back right away. Just exhaled slowly, eyes like quiet storms.
Then— "I agree."
Drey's eyes bulged. "WHAT?! No. Noooope. Every time someone says 'I'll hold them off,' it ends with a dramatic explosion and therapy bills!"
Franklin cracked his knuckles, the air around his hands glowing with molten light. "I was born for dramatic explosions."
Zoren finally faced him. "And I'm here to make sure yours doesn't end in a smear on the cobblestones."
Franklin grinned. "Didn't know you cared."
Zoren returned the faintest of smiles. "I don't. I just hate cleaning up lava puddles."
Talis waved both hands like a conductor trying to stop a very confused orchestra. "WAIT. Are you both staying?! What if we need someone smart?"
Nyssa added, "Or someone fiery?!"
Zoren nodded at Ivar, Aiden, and the others. While Talis is given zoren and Franklin direction " Get to the outskirts, then follow the riverbank until you see a house with twelve wind chimes and an unnatural amount of ducks. That's Grandma Jara."
"Why are the ducks important?" Linda asked, blinking.
Talis answered without missing a beat, "Because they bite."
Franklin flared with laughter. "Man, you're scary when you're chill."
Zoren rolled his neck. "Let's buy them five minutes."
Franklin stepped beside him, fire swirling like a lazy inferno.
Behind them—shadows approached. fast, cloaked.
They all gulped.
Talis pushed the others forward. "Come on! Trust the grandma!"
Linda yelled, "THIS IS NOT A STRATEGY!"
Aiden shrugged, still chewing the cold chicken leg. "Better than trusting the government."
And so—
Six ran toward an allegedly safe, duck-infested house.
Two stood their ground in a dark alley where the air shimmered with heat and Ether.
Zoren stood calm as water.
Franklin burned like a sunrise having a tantrum.
Together, they waited.
Zoren cracked his knuckles.
Franklin cracked his neck.
They both cracked a grin.
"Let's make this hurt," Franklin muttered.
Zoren replied coolly, "Just enough to keep them guessing."
And then—
The alley ignited.
Black Ember met fire and calm fury.
And somewhere far ahead, a very confused grandma with twelve aggressive ducks poured tea, sensing trouble and muttering, "Huh. I knew today felt spicy."
---
Dusty streets. Barking dogs. A fishmonger yelling about a sale no one cares about.
Talis was running like he forgot his bakery was just destroyed —which, to be fair, it was. Nyssa limped behind him, clutching her side, her face pale but still managing a scowl sharp enough to cut bread.
Drey skidded to a stop beside her, panting like a man who's regretted every decision that led to this moment. He spun on Talis with the speed of a disappointed aunt at a wedding.
"ENOUGH. We're not chasing your chaos biscuit of a plan any further!"
"I told you she needed to stay behind!" Drey barked, pointing at Nyssa like she was a half-burnt pie. "But nooo, someone had to play reunion festival!"
"I thought it'd be sweet!" Talis defended with jazz hands. "Bakery! Friends! Danger-bonding!"
"She's bleeding like a love-struck tomato, Talis!"
Nyssa, despite everything, grunted, "Rude."
Drey turned to her, voice suddenly soft as a marshmallow on a hot tile. "You almost died today, Nyssa. Do you know how close that artery was?"
"Which one?"
"The important one! All of them!"
"I'm fine," she muttered.
"You are not fine," Drey snapped, scooping her up bridal-style. "We are going back to the apothecary, and I am stitching you up so tight you'll fart peppermint tea for a week."
Talis blinked. "...That sounds like a delightful side effect."
"Shut up, yeast boy!"
"I have a name—"
"I forgot it, out of survival instinct."
Nyssa groaned, face tucked against Drey's shoulder. "Can we not argue on the run?"
Drey huffed. "Fine. But just so you know, the next time I say don't go out, maybe—MAYBE—don't go out!"
Nyssa smirked, "Then maybe don't stay smelling like cinnamon and danger."
"You are the worst patient, do you know that? You talk back, bleed creatively, and flirt with people during operations!"
"Only the handsome ones," she coughed, teasing.
Talis, still jogging alongside like a rejected sidekick, pointed at himself. "Wait, am I—"
"No."
"Oh."
Aiden popped up behind them, out of nowhere like a raccoon in a trash fire. "Guys, what's the plan? I still have half a chicken leg, and I'm not sure if I'm emotionally prepared to meet aggressive ducks."
Drey growled. "There is no plan! The plan is: stop dying, stitch Nyssa, then hide under a pile of leaf mulch until the world forgets our names."
"I vote for the ducks," Talis raised a hand.
"Your vote is revoked."
"I'm literally the one who suggested the grandma!"
"Yes! A grandma you met once! In a foggy alley! Who gave you tea that smoked upward! That's cursed tea, Talis!"
"She said it was 'sky-blessed.'"
"Y'know," Aiden chimed in. "I kinda like her."
Drey grumbled, reaching into his pouch and pulling out a bundle of green herbs. "I'm using a mint poultice to mask our blood trail. Old Titan Herbology—absorbs scent, confuses predators, and freshens the breath. Triple win."
He slapped the herbs on Nyssa's wound like he was seasoning meat. She hissed. "You enjoyed that."
"I only enjoy results."
Talis suddenly gasped. "WAIT! Why didn't you use it to help us escape before?!"
Aiden blinked. "...That's a thing?"
Nyssa raised a finger. "Why do you know that and still drag us into danger?"
Drey answered dryly, "Because it was not enough, it is only for my patient.'"
"Hey!"
They turned down a corner. Finally, a crooked sign up ahead: "Drey's" A curtain flapped lazily in the breeze, revealing shelves upon shelves of herbs, tonics, and one very confused cat wearing glasses.
Drey kicked the door open. "Welcome to my sanctuary. Nyssa, table. Talis, silence. Aiden—please, for the love of herbs—don't lick anything glowing."
Aiden was already licking something glowing.
"AHHHHH IT TASTES LIKE REGRET!"
And behind them—somewhere far down the road—Zoren and Franklin were still holding back death itself.
But here, in the little apothecary that smelled like wet roots and poor decisions, one chaotic trio tried to patch wounds, hide trails, and argue like a dysfunctional family with trust issues and too many opinions.
And somehow, that was exactly what they needed.
Talis suddenly remembered " I forgot that we told zoren and Franklin that we are at grandma Jara's place"
Everyone suddenly looks at him. Fuvk.
---
Back at the alleyway
The alley opened up into a broken courtyard—shards of a shattered fountain glinting under the fractured moonlight. Ash clung to the wind. Cracks ran through the ground like veins.
Zoren and Franklin stood on opposite ends.
And in front of them, the Black Ember Squad finally revealed themselves.
Captain Vexx stepped forward first. A tall man, lean, muscles coiled like wires. His sword was plain, unadorned. Yet the way he held it—like a part of him—made Franklin stop grinning.
No Core flared from Vexx.
But he didn't need one.
Behind him stood the rest of the squad, spaced in perfect formation.
Celine: Over six feet, silver hair braided with metal threads. Her voice hummed even in silence.
Jethro: Short but broad, his cloak fluttering despite no wind.
Lira: The healer, glowing softly with a light Core—eyes too kind for this battlefield.
Thorn: The tactician. Thin, glasses flashing. A Core unreadable, if he even had one. But he held a chalkboard and map in one hand. Smiling.
Zoren narrowed his eyes. "Five against two."
Thorn corrected: "More like one and a half. Your Core's unstable."
Franklin's flames erupted, licking up his arms. "Doesn't matter."
"Oh, it will," Celine purred. "Once you hear me."
She raised her hands—and clapped.
BOOM.
A shockwave burst through the air, visible as ripples. Zoren spun, but his Core flared erratically—half-engaged. The force hit him square in the ribs and sent him crashing through a ruined wall.
Franklin howled. "ZOREN!"
Jethro moved—a blur of wind and spinning daggers. He came in from the side, tornado arcs trailing his limbs.
Franklin blocked—barely. Lava hardened around his forearms like gauntlets.
CLANG! CLANG! FWOOSH!
Jethro laughed as he skated backward on a wind burst. "Come on, hothead! Thought lava burned brighter!"
Franklin growled. "Keep talking. I like my steak medium-dead."
But behind the chaos—
Captain Vexx walked toward the hole where Zoren fell. Calm. Quiet. Sword unsheathed.
---
Cut to: Zoren.
He staggered up, blood trickling from his lip. The White Core inside him buzzed erratically—one pulse calm, the next wild like a scream.
"Stabilize," he whispered. "Come on. Now's not the time to be poetic."
The Core surged—white energy flaring, then snapping.
Zoren clutched his chest, breathing sharp. It wasn't just white energy anymore. A darker edge hovered beneath it. Something ancient. Watching.
Captain Vexx stepped through the rubble.
"You're the one with the dual Core. The one with the potential to end cities if you become evil."
Zoren didn't reply.
Vexx readied his sword. "Then I'll break you before you bloom."
He charged.
Zoren dodged—barely. The ground behind him exploded from a single sword stroke.
Zoren used Flow Step a movement technique he saw inthe dugeon of Illusion —a soft burst of wind-like motion, blinking behind Vexx.
He struck.
CLANG!
Vexx parried without turning around.
"You're skilled," Vexx said, eyes cold. "But predictable."
Zoren spun, using his own momentum—light Core: Pulse Lash—a burst of pressure aimed at Vexx's knee.
It hit.
Vexx's leg bent.
But he didn't fall.
He turned the pain into a spin, slashing upward.
Zoren's cheek split open—just barely.
Zoren backed off, panting. Too fast.
And the Core—still shifting, still unstable.
---
Back to Franklin.
Celine danced in the air, riding her own soundwaves like stilts. Each step made the ground quake.
Jethro zipped past Franklin again, striking his ribs.
Franklin coughed—blood on his lip now.
"Dammit, Zoren," he muttered. "I need both arms for this."
He slammed his fists together.
"Lava Core: Eruption Zone!"
A ring of molten rock exploded outward, forcing Jethro to back off. Celine winced as the heat warped her sound field.
From above, Thorn shouted: "Celine, reposition! Jethro, cycle him to the left—there's a fault line!"
They obeyed instantly.
Franklin blinked. "They're not just elite... they're a damn chessboard."
He braced, eyes glowing. "Time to break the board."
---
Meanwhile—Zoren was starting to lose it.
Every time he summoned the Core, it responded with two voices—one serene, the other... whispering.
"Let go."
"We could destroy him."
Zoren clenched his jaw. "Not yet. Not like that."
Vexx stepped forward again. Sword lowered. "You're holding back. Why?"
Zoren met his gaze. "Because if I stop holding back... I might kill you and me."
Vexx nodded once.
"Then let's both find out."
He charged again.
And Zoren, against all logic, met him head on— he is just suddenly getting different technique in his brain.
Light Core: Harmonic Shift!
But it twisted.
A tendril of black light laced through it—
BOOM!
Both men were blown back.
Zoren hit a wall. This time, he didn't get up right away.
And from across the field—
Lira, the healer, gasped. "His Core—it's fracturing. That's not natural."
Thorn's eyes lit up. "That's what we will confirm before capturing Franklin."
---
The tide shifts again.
The Black Ember Squad regroups, forming a triangle formation around Franklin. Zoren is pinned, breathing heavy, Core buzzing like a dying star.
Franklin is sweating lava. Literally.
"Zoren," he mutters, backing toward him. "I got a really, really dumb idea."
Zoren—barely conscious—grins. "Better be dumber than mine."
Franklin raises his fist.
"I call it—Lava Slingshot."
Zoren sighs. "That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard."
Franklin smirks. "You'll live. Maybe."
Franklin stood while zoren is lyingon the groundtryinghard to breathe properly. The ground smoked beneath Franklin's feet. Zoren's Core blinked between white and black light like a malfunctioning lighthouse.
The Black Ember Squad had circled them perfectly. No openings.
Captain Vexx, still silent.
Celine, her arms raised—ready to unleash a sound field.
Jethro, daggers dancing on wind.
Lira, glowing like a holy statue in battle.
Thorn, the tactician—smirking.
Thorn adjusted his glasses. "You're stalling. There is no rescue coming. The city's sealed. We control the field."
Franklin muttered, "Zoren, please tell me your idea is less stupid than mine."
The Black Ember Squad closed in.
Blades. Wind. Sound. Strategy. Healing.
Five elite warriors versus two fugitives.
Zoren panted, his body screaming.
His Core throbbed violently—black and white pulses fighting each other.
Every movement felt like being torn in two.
He heard whispering. Not from outside. From within.
> "You are not complete."
"Split. Broken."
"Choose."
Franklin, meanwhile, was a one-man riot. Lava burst from his arms, fists cracking the stone road.
"Zoren! Snap out of it, bro! I can't keep doing this alone!"
Celine unleashed a sonic dagger—it curved through the air toward Franklin.
Zoren stepped in front of it—caught it midair with a white flare, but then—
His Dark Core lashed out.
Black tendrils whipped from his back, slamming the ground and making a crater beneath him.
His eyes glowed with both cores—unstable.
"Enough," Vexx said, stepping forward.
His blade ready to strike.
Zoren froze.
This wasn't about winning anymore.
They were outnumbered. He was broken. His Core—
> "You fear me."
Zoren gritted his teeth. "I fear losing control."
> "Then stop fighting me. We are one."
Zoren fell to his knees.
Behind him, Franklin shouted in rage and lava.
But Zoren… breathed.
"I can't have an unstable Core and revenge my mother's death or escape here, I have to accept what I am and I will."
For the first time since the Core was implanted in him—he stopped fighting it.
Instead, he whispered:
> "Then come, Core.
If we're one…
Then burn with me."
A pulse.
A shockwave.
A new light.
Black and white didn't war—they wove together.
His aura shimmered like obsidian silk lit by stars.
Jethro flew backward. "What the hell was that?!"
Thorn's map glitched.
Celine clutched her ears, sound bouncing wildly.
Lira gasped. "Something changed. It's stabilized."
Franklin looked up, coughing. "Zoren…?"
Zoren stood.
Not trembling.
Not lost.
He turned his palm upward. A spiral of white flame and dark mist coiled together.
"I'm good now," he said calmly. "Let's go."
But just then—
CLAP.
The world blacked out.
Celine screamed. Jethro cursed. Thorn snapped orders, but nothing responded.
Franklin blinked. "Whoa. Okay. Is this your new Core power?!"
Zoren shook his head slowly. "...No. This isn't me."
"Then—who?"
"I don't know. But we're not wasting it."
---
Together, they ran through the darkness.
No streets. No light. Just instinct.
Zoren didn't question the path—he felt it now. As if the Core wasn't a tool anymore. It was a compass. A partner.
Captain Vexx tried to intercept.
But every time he struck—he missed.
His blade passed through shadows.
The squad followed, but the domain warped space, bent their senses, hid every trail.
They ran.
Until—
The blackness faded.
Sunlight returned.
Franklin collapsed. "We out…? We actually OUT?!"
Zoren scanned the area.
They were at a busy street the city
Zoren exhaled, Core still humming inside him.
"We're not safe yet. But we bought time."
Franklin leaned back, eyes closed. "I don't care if a three-headed goat greets us next. I'm calling this a win."
Zoren didn't laugh.
Instead, he turned back toward whereever he thinks help came from . His Core pulsed softly.
"Thank you."
Whoever helped… whoever cast that domain…
They'd owe them.
But for now—they had to find shelter.
Zoren looked at the trail.
Something about it pulled him forward.
And so, step by step—they made their way…
toward the grandma's hut.
---
To be continued