Jake was about to get up to gather his gear, but Gareth interrupted him. “We have no time. Humming that strong? They already have a lock on us.” Gareth broke into a trot. Not full speed, but fast enough to make it clear that staying wasn’t an option. “Move, boy. One last lesson.” Jake’s stomach knotted. His hands turned clammy, his pulse a frantic drumbeat in his ears. The nightmare was real. As soon as he caught up with Gareth, his mentor accelerated his pace. “It’s run or die, boy.” Jake could barely hear Gareth’s words, between the noise of his steps on the ground, the wind outside, and his heartbeat inside. His ragged breath made his throat dry. Gareth continued, “Remember the rules: Never stay in the mist for long. Use your power sparingly.” Jake understood the gist of it and screamed, “Or what?” Gareth glanced at him without breaking his stride. “That’s how they track you.” Jake swallowed hard. Gareth continued, “It’s not a fight we can win. Always run. Always survive.”

  Jake agreed with the survival mindset, but his legs burned from both training and terror. Against his will, his steps faltered.

  The humming grew louder. Jake risked a glance back and gasped. A dark figure sprinted after them, unnaturally long arms pumping. It was gaining ground. “Gareth…” he called, his voice unsteady. His mentor understood and nodded. The warrior picked up Jake, threw him over his shoulder, then activated his mist armor on his legs and burst forward in a surge of speed. “Gareth, the rules…” Jake gasped, horrified. Gareth shouted over the wind. “Doesn’t matter. He has a line of sight on us. We just need a bigger head start before we reach the bridge.” Jake clenched his teeth. The bridge? How was that going to help them escape? He stayed silent, his gaze locked on the shadow closing in on them.

  A few minutes later, Gareth skidded to a stop and set Jake down. The moment his feet touched the ground, dizziness crashed into him. Gareth pushed him gently forward. “The bridge. Cross it and keep running, boy.” Then he turned to face the incoming enemy and summoned his full armor. Jake stared in horror. “What are you doing, Gareth? We need to escape!” Gareth looked at him and flashed his usual lazy grin. “You escape. I’ll keep our guest entertained.” Jake’s vision blurred with tears he refused to let fall. He shook his head. “But Gareth… the rules.” Gareth’s grin widened. “I never liked rules.” Then, letting his smile fade, he faced the approaching shadow and summoned his helmet, the mist sealing around his face. His gruff voice emerged, distorted, “Now run… or I throw you into the river. Your choice.”

  Jake froze, his mind at war with itself. Gareth stomped the ground. Jake felt the vibration shake his core. “Listen, boy. I don’t die today. Now RUN!” Jake knew it was a lie but forced himself to believe it. He turned toward the bridge. Gareth… Teeth clenched, he ran.

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  Gareth held his ground, his focus locked onto the approaching figure. Soon, the facial features were clear enough. It was him. A storm of rage churned inside the warrior. His clenched fists trembled as he fought to keep himself in control. I need to give Jake as much time as possible. He exhaled slowly. The tension in his body faded. But the mist around his armor raged like a storm. The shadowed figure stopped a few paces away. He had the face of a man in his late forties, black hair cut short and spiked without apparent care. But the resemblance to a man stopped there. His hands were lost in an entanglement of oily, shifting tendrils of shadow. Heavy dark fumes were dripping down from the unholy appendices. They were ever moving, probing the air for something to cling to.

  The monster eyed Gareth up and down. He spoke with an icy voice. “We’ve done this before. Tired of running?” Gareth forced himself to keep his voice steady. “I never ran from you.” The mist swirling around his arms quickened. The man scoffed, then glanced over Gareth’s shoulder. “Who’s the pup?” Gareth shifted his stance, blocking his view. “It’s just me. Me and you.” He punched his fists together. A shockwave of energy rippled outward. The shadow man remained expressionless. Then, with a slow nod, he muttered, “You first, then.” His gaze flicked over Gareth’s armor. “What’s your deal? You lost, trained hard, and now you’re here for revenge?”

  Gareth’s teeth ground together. His entire body screamed to attack, but he held back. Keep him talking. Just a little bit more. Then he spoke, his voice like a growl. “You killed her. You killed Talia.” For a fraction of a second, his opponent hesitated. The shadow tendrils stilled slightly as if momentarily caught in a stray breeze of uncertainty. He tilted his head, eyes unreadable. A shadow of a frown flickered across his face before he dismissed it. He looked at his hands. “I’ve killed many. I don’t remember their names.” The shadows swelled again, devouring his arms like black fire, crackling with silent hunger. Like something animated by a dark will, intent on extinguishing all life. Gareth’s vision blurred, his breath turning ragged. A guttural roar tore from his throat. “You slaughtered the Guardians. You doomed us all. And you murdered HER.”

  The murderer shifted his stance, setting his feet. The black tendrils uncoiled, stretching outward, eager to consume. His voice was flat. “To protect the world, sacrifices are necessary. I take no pleasure in this.” Gareth’s eyes burned with hate and thirst for revenge. “Oh, but I will.” A war cry erupted from his throat. His armor ignited, pink flames deepening to crimson. Then he launched forward, earth cracking beneath his charge.

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