We exploded out of the elevator like bullets from a chamber, the metallic doors sliding shut behind us with a mechanical hiss that sounded too much like a warning. My heart jackhammered against my ribs. Behind us, I could already hear the stomping boots and sharp shouts of TSA agents in pursuit—four of them, fast and focused, with their wands drawn and eyes locked on us like predators chasing blood. Every step they took was precise, calculated, the kind that said they weren’t about to let us go.

  “Move! Let’s go!” Malachi shouted, his voice slicing through the chaos like a whip.

  “Right! This way!” I grabbed his arm, yanking him to the side as we veered sharply down the corridor. Our sneakers screeched against the polished floor as we tried to vanish from view, but the agents weren’t letting up. Their footfalls grew louder, a stampede of shadows closing in behind us.

  The burn started in my calves first. That familiar ache from running too hard, too fast, without thinking. But there wasn’t time to slow down. We were prey, and they were hunting us with bolts locked and loaded.

  “Stairs!” Malachi called, pointing.

  We bolted up the steps, two at a time, breath catching in our throats. Halfway up, I felt the heat of magic behind us—too close.

  Zzzzmmm!

  A blast of energy tore through the air, just missing my shoulder as we hit the top landing.

  “Keep moving!” Malachi barked, shoving the next door open. But as soon as we cleared it, another agent flicked his wand and fired. The bolt grazed the wall where I’d been a second before, sizzling through the plaster like acid.

  “What are you doing?!” Malachi shouted as I grabbed the collar of his hoodie and pulled him behind a pillar just in time.

  “Saving you!” I snapped. “Unless you wanna be toast!”

  The hallway ahead of us looked endless, a corridor bathed in sterile white lights and flickering emergency signs, but it was our only path forward. The pounding of boots came again—more now. A lot more.

  Eight, maybe more.

  Our pursuers rounded the corner, all with their wands primed and flashing. Bolts of raw energy lit up the air like fireworks, exploding against the walls and scorching the ground. Smoke coiled in the air, thick and acrid. It was like being inside a collapsing starship.

  "Get down!" Tisiah’s voice rang out ahead, and we dropped low, diving into a narrow side hall just as another blast exploded behind us. Debris pelted my back as we weaved through the maze of intersecting corridors.

  Tisiah was already moving. “They’re closing in fast,” he growled, eyes narrowed, wand blazing with green light.

  “Cover me!” Malachi shouted, whirling around. He fired a blast of energy that erupted like a grenade, shaking the floor beneath us. The force of it tossed one of the agents off his feet, slamming him against a wall. Cracks spiderwebbed across the surface, dust raining down.

  The agents didn’t falter. Another attack hissed through the smoke, and Tisiah responded instantly. A shimmering wall of blue magic snapped into place between us and them, a shield humming with energy. Their next blast hit it like a gong, lighting up the barrier in sparks.

  “Go, now!” Tisiah ordered. “I’ll hold it!”

  “Right behind you!” I called, dragging my aching body forward.

  Despite the adrenaline surging through my veins, I was slowing. My right leg felt like molten jelly. My lungs were fire. But I couldn’t stop. Not now. Not with death just steps behind.

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  The shield flickered again. Tisiah’s hand trembled, sweat streaking his temple. “Stay close. I can only hold this for so long.”

  Another bolt hit, and I felt the tremor pass through my chest like an earthquake.

  Just ahead, a figure emerged like a whisper from the chaos.

  September.

  She moved like a shadow, silent and ruthless, slipping behind the agents without them noticing. One by one, she tapped the back of their necks with her wand, and they dropped like puppets with cut strings.

  Within seconds, the hallway was filled with groaning bodies.

  “Okay!” Nikki’s voice rang out as she dashed toward us, her eyes bright with mischief. She looked around at the fallen agents, then grinned. “This is good. This is so good.”

  But the victory didn’t last long.

  Thump-thump-thump.

  Three heavy footsteps echoed behind us, sharp and purposeful. We turned. My stomach plummeted.

  Mr. Drails.

  Flanked by two of his assistants, he appeared like a ghost out of a nightmare, eyes hard and unreadable. Behind him, a portal shimmered to life—a swirling gateway of light that pulsed like a heartbeat. Its edges flickered with warning.

  “Go!” I screamed, grabbing Malachi’s arm and lunging forward.

  We ran full force toward the portal, its glow growing brighter. Magic tingled against my skin, warning me just how dangerous that thing really was. But we didn’t have a choice. Behind us, bolts were flying again.

  We crossed through the gateway.

  And landed.

  Feet pounding against cold, sterile floors. We were still in the terminal—but somewhere else. Somewhere worse.

  Because waiting for us at the end of the hall was a man cloaked in black, his silver hair gleaming under the dim lights.

  Demeitrus Rocke.

  He stood like a monument to malice, hands tucked into his coat pockets, his smile twisted with cruelty.

  “Hello, children,” he purred, voice as smooth as poisoned honey.

  September flinched. Her fingers twitched toward her wand. Rage burned in her eyes.

  But I stepped in.

  “No,” I whispered, grabbing her wrist gently. She stared at me, her breathing ragged. Slowly, she calmed.

  Rocke laughed softly, clearly amused. “You should treasure him, September. His restraint… makes my job easier.”

  Then he moved.

  Before we could react, his wand snapped up.

  Bang! Bang!

  Pain seared through my legs. I screamed as I collapsed, agony blooming like wildfire. Blood soaked through my pants, dripping onto the floor in thick, sticky streams.

  “Connor!” September dropped beside me, panic written all over her face.

  Her hands pressed down on my wounds. I gasped, vision swimming. My body trembled as darkness threatened to pull me under.

  “Please,” she whispered. “Stay with me. Stay with me…”

  I blinked slowly. Everything was fading. The sound of footsteps echoed again.

  Then Mr. Drails appeared.

  His eyes locked on mine, and the cold mask he always wore cracked.

  “Connor!” he shouted, rushing forward. He dropped to his knees, lifting me gently like I was made of glass. His voice trembled. “Stay with me, kid. You’re going to be okay.”

  I tried to nod. Tried to say something. But the words wouldn’t come.

  Then Rocke saw him.

  “Hi, Bruce,” he said, voice mocking. “Still playing hero? How’s the presidency treating you?”

  Mr. Drails didn’t answer. His jaw clenched, fury simmering in his gaze.

  “You did this to me,” he said. “You dared—”

  “Oh please,” Rocke interrupted, twirling his wand. “Don’t act surprised. I told you I’d be back. And now… I have your powers.”

  Silence fell like a guillotine.

  “What?” we all said at once.

  Nikki’s mouth dropped open. “He can copy powers…?”

  “Sure,” Rocke shrugged. “Let’s have a little duel, Bruce.”

  Without waiting for a reply, Rocke fired the first shot—a gleaming ice spike that tore through the air.

  Drails deflected it with a sweep of his wand, the spell shattering into frosty mist. The two men stepped into a storm of magic, attack after attack colliding in bursts of power that rattled the walls.

  Mr. Drails was relentless, his attacks precise and punishing. Rocke danced through them like a snake, smiling, taunting, every move measured and mocking.

  The battle was a symphony of chaos—ice, lightning, and fire. Nature crashed and rebounded. Walls cracked. The ceiling groaned.

  Drails summoned a portal and vanished—only to reappear across the hall.

  But Rocke was faster. He burst through a second portal, landing a blow to Drails’s back that sent him tumbling.

  “You grew...” Mr. Drails said with a smirk, wiping blood from his mouth. “But still not enough.”

  Another flurry of spells. Another wave of power.

  Then Rocke raised his hand—and the air shimmered.

  “You forgot,” he snarled, “that I can twist your powers. Mold them. Bend them to my will.”

  He slammed his fist into the wall.

  The floor trembled violently.

  We were lifted off our feet—weightless for a heartbeat—then slammed down. The world spun around me. My vision pulsed.

  Somewhere in the noise, I heard September calling my name. I heard Malachi scream. I heard Tisiah grunt as he rolled to his feet.

  The battle still raged.

  But something had changed.

  Rocke was more than a threat now.

  He was a force of nature.

  And if we didn’t figure out how to stop him—soon—we were all going to die.