The bar was a scene of utter chaos, engulfed in flames and destruction.

  Bottles were ablaze, spilling fiery streams across the floor, while the ceiling creaked ominously, threatening to cave in and amidst the turmoil, Mischa Chikae stood confidently, completely unscathed.

  The green glow from her umbrella mingled with the flickering embers around her. A gentle, pleased smile played on her lips.

  "Well that was… quite the show."she remarked, casually brushing a bit of dust from her maid apron,

  Her hazel eyes swept over the devastation, glancing past the broken tables until they settled on Taura, who was bruised and kneeling, gripping her glowing blade tightly.

  "You were entertaining but the fun's over. I have something to collect."Mischa continued, her voice as serene as if they had just enjoyed a cup of tea together.

  Taura's eyes widened in realization. "The cases…"

  Mischa tilted her head slightly, a glimmer of amusement dancing in her gaze. "Clever girl."

  Before Taura could respond, Mischa's figure shimmered, the air around her warping like a heat haze, and in an instant, she vanished. There was no sound, no trace left behind only the faint scent of gunpowder and roses lingered in the air.

  "W–What the hell…?" Taura stammered, scrambling to her feet. She lowered her knife, allowing the fiery energy to dissipate. The massive lion-faced blade shrank back into a simple, curved form.

  "Damn it If she gets those cases, Shuren's gonna lose it." she cursed, sliding the knife back into her belt.

  Without wasting another moment, she dashed through the wreckage, weaving around falling debris and flaming furniture, her boots thudding against the cracked tiles.

  Assad was already sprinting at full speed, the two female guards dashed ahead of him, their stolen briefcases shimmering under the flickering neon lights of the narrow street.

  "Hey! Stop!Those aren't yours!" he shouted, his lungs on fire.

  The guards didn't even glance back, making one of them let out a short, mocking laugh, breathless and taunting. "Maybe not, but they sure aren't yours either!"

  Assad clenched his jaw. "Oh, I'm really gonna regret this…"

  He pushed himself harder, leaping over a dumpster and nearly losing his footing on the slick pavement sparks erupted from a broken sign overhead, illuminating the alley in flashes of electric blue.

  "Give me those cases before I—"

  A gunshot interrupted him as a single bullet zipped past his face, so close it grazed his cheek.

  The one with the scarred arm turned around, her pistol still smoking.

  "Back off, pretty boy. You're not cut out for this."

  "I'm through with this," he replied through gritted teeth.

  Assad quickened his pace, each step sharper and echoing against the slick concrete. Gunfire erupted behind him, bullets whizzing past his shoulder and arm, but he didn't even flinch. He danced through the shots like a shadow.

  "Tch, why isn't he going down?!" one of the female guards cursed, firing again, her voice shaking with frustration.

  The other guard sneered, still pulling the trigger. "We should keep m-moving."

  Assad's gaze caught a rusted metal pipe lying on the ground. In one fluid motion, he snatched it up mid-stride. The instant his fingers closed around it, the air thickened, heavy with a humming energy.

  Red and black energy began to swirl around the pipe, veins of power snaking along its length. His silver eyes ignited with a golden glow, piercing through the darkness.

  He twisted his body, harnessing the momentum of his sprint, and launched the pipe like a spear. The sound that followed was anything but ordinary; it screeched through the air, slicing the wind like a bolt of lightning.

  When it hit the ground between the two women, the earth erupted. A shockwave of red flame burst forth, curling upward and solidifying into a prison of black fire, its spikes embedding into the concrete and trapping the guards inside.

  "W–Wait, what is this?!" one of the guards screamed, dropping her gun and clutching her briefcase tightly. The heat was unbearable; each breath felt like fire.

  "Are you kidding me… he's a Sionel too?!" the other guard hissed, gritting her teeth as the inferno closed in.

  Assad halted just a few meters away, his golden eyes dimming a bit as the flames roared behind him. He let out a breath, the air around him still buzzing with leftover energy. As he got closer to the blazing cage, Assad slowed down the black fire twisted in a strange way, pulling inward faster than it should have.

  The air crackled, alive with a hungry energy.

  "…No. It's closing too quickly."

  He muttered a curse under his breath and sprinted forward, shielding his face from the intense heat. Inside, the two female guards screamed, clutching their briefcases like they were lifelines.

  For a fleeting moment, Assad hesitated but his instincts screamed at him not to go in. It was his own fire burning hotter than anything a human should ever endure.

  Assad clenched his teeth.

  "To hell with it."

  He stepped straight into the flames.

  The world roared around him, yet he felt nothing.

  He exhaled sharply, eyes wide. "...It doesn't hurt."

  Then he moved, hands outstretched, trying to push the flames apart and sparks erupted from his palms, but the prison wouldn't budge; it was like trying to hold back a storm.

  "Damn it! It's not stopping!" he shouted, forcing his body against the pressure.

  "You two you have to get out! Even if you get burned, you'll survive!"

  The terrified guard fell to her knees, shaking so violently that the briefcase slipped from her grip. "I—I can't! I can't move!"

  The other guard clenched her fists, her eyes blazing with defiance.

  "Like hell we're running! You just want the briefcases, don't you?! Without these, we can't save our family!" Her voice cracked from the heat and fury.

  Assad froze for a moment, her words cut through the chaos.

  The prison's walls shuddered, the spikes trembling. the black flames were closing in, and they were coming in way too fast. Assad dug his shoes into the cracked pavement, bracing both hands against the writhing wall of fire.

  "Come on… not yet!" he roared, pushing back with every ounce of strength he had.

  But the prison didn't listen. It moved as if it were alive, feeding, devouring, shrinking. The guards screamed from inside, their faces illuminated in a hellish red by the inferno.

  One was frozen in fear, trembling and unable to move, the other still clutched the briefcase, jaw set in defiance.

  "Move! I said move!"Assad shouted.

  "I—I can't!" the terrified one sobbed.

  Assad's jaw tightened so there was no time for debate. He ripped his hands away from the flames and dashed inside the heat, searing his vision, warping everything around him — the air felt molten, and the ground cracked beneath each step.

  He grabbed the frightened one by the arm, her skin already blistering.

  "Hold on to me."

  Her eyes widened. "What are you—"

  "Saving your damn life."

  He scanned the area, searching through the haze for anything at all and then he spotted it. A puddle. Small, but enough. Rainwater mixed with oil, glimmering faintly beside the rubble.

  It wasn't much, but it was all he had.

  Assad turned to both girls. "Listen to me carefully. I'm going to throw you toward that puddle. When you hit it, roll. Don't think, just roll. The water will put out the flames, right?"

  The defiant one spat blood. "You're insane—"

  "Yeah, I've heard that before."he muttered,

  Without waiting for a response, he crouched low and, with a burst of energy, hurled the first guard straight through the collapsing flames. She screamed as the fire caught her sleeves, but she landed half in the puddle, steam bursting around her.

  She hit the puddle hard, splashing water everywhere. Steam hissed, smoke rising. She rolled and rolled, panting her sleeves were scorched, her cheek burned, but she was alive.

  Assad smiled faintly, relieved. "Good… that worked."

  Then he turned to the other guard. "Your turn."

  She stared into his silver eyes, taking in his scorched clothes and the fire swirling like a tempest behind him. The way he said it calm, certainly sent a chill racing down her spine.

  "Are you ready?" he asked.

  "…You sound terrifying when you say it like that," she muttered, gripping her briefcase tightly.

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  Assad blinked, then let out a small laugh. "Sorry. Just a habit."

  "Yeah, yeah, let's do it." she exhaled,

  He nodded once, grabbed her arm, and with a sharp grunt, flung her toward the same puddle.

  The fire caught her mid-throw flames igniting on her shoulder and back, crawling down her clothes and hitting the puddle hard, water splashing everywhere, but instead of dousing the flames…

  A hiss split the air, followed by a scream that echoed through the street.

  "AAAAAAAHHHH!"

  Assad froze. The puddle wasn't extinguishing the flames it was feeding them. The moment she touched it, the water turned black, bubbling violently. She thrashed and rolled, desperately trying to put herself out, but the flames clung to her skin like tar.

  "What the hell—?!" Assad sprinted forward, bursting through the dying wall of fire. His heart raced in his chest, panic surging.

  "Stop! Stop, drop, roll! Just—"

  Her screams grew louder, raw and breaking. Steam and smoke enveloped her completely. The stench of burning flesh filled the air.

  "Help her!" "Please, she's my sister!"cried the first guard, stumbling toward them.

  Assad froze mid-step. "...What?"

  The burning girl reached out toward the voice, her eyes wide with agony then the flames consumed her entirely.

  Her scream faded into a whisper, then silence. When the smoke cleared, there was nothing left.

  The surviving guard fell to her knees, her hands shaking uncontrollably. "No… no, no, no…"

  Assad stood there, frozen. His mind replayed the last thing she'd said: Sister.

  He turned to her slowly. "She was your sister?"

  The guard's tear-streaked face snapped toward him, a mix of fury and despair.

  "I…the water… it wasn't meant to—"Assad paused, feeling a dryness in his throat. "

  She pounded her fist against the slick pavement, tears streaming down her face. "You liar! You killed her!"

  Those words struck him harder than any bullet ever could.

  Assad took a cautious step closer to her. The heat was starting to fade, but the air still hung heavy with the smell of burnt flesh and metal. He crouched down next to the surviving guard, who was trembling as she clutched the briefcase tightly to her chest.

  "Hey, I didn't mean for—"he said softly, his voice rough around the edges.

  "Get the hell away from me!" she screamed.

  Her voice cracked, a raw mix of rage and grief. She scrambled backward, her boots slipping on the slick tiles, her eyes wide with fear.

  "You—you touched her! You threw her into that… that thing!"

  Assad froze, his hands hovering uncertainly in the air, torn between reaching out and pulling back. His chest felt like it was being squeezed.

  "I was trying to save her," he murmured. "If I had known—"

  "You didn't know anything!" she shot back, tears streaming down her cheeks

  . "You play the hero, and everyone ends up dead! Just… stay away from me!"

  The weight of her words hit him harder than the heat ever could. He looked at her, so small and fragile now, shaking and covered in ash, and he couldn't find a single word to make sense of it all.

  For what felt like an eternity, neither of them moved. The only sound was the soft crackle of dying embers in the alley.

  Finally, Assad lowered his hands. His gaze drifted to the two briefcases lying nearby, half-burned but still intact. He swallowed hard.

  What could have Assad done at the moment? Two options were on the table but very difficult to decide on.

  Should he have stayed, maybe attempted to calm her down and get her out alive or leave the cases behind and out of nowhere Mischa would arrive and take them.

  Save her… or save what's left of the mission.

  "Just go!Take whatever you want and leave me alone!" she yelled, clutching the briefcase even tighter.

  He stared at her for a moment longer, caught between guilt and instinct then let out a slow breath, glancing toward the flickering neon lights beyond the alley. The city was eerily silent, holding its breath.

  "…Fine but if you stay here, you'll die too."he finally said, his voice low.

  He walked past her, stepping over the puddle and the ashes that had once been her sister. Assad stood there for a moment, the briefcases feeling heavy and burdensome at his side. The alley was thick with the scent of smoke and iron, while the city beyond pulsed with neon lights and distant sirens.

  He couldn't tear his eyes away from the curled-up figure of the surviving guard, her quiet sobs barely audible over the noise of the street.

  Then, something inside him broke.

  "Damn it." He let the briefcases drop, ignoring the way the puddle rippled like a held breath, and lunged forward.

  He seized her wrist with a grip so tight it made her gasp. "Get up. Now."

  She recoiled, her eyes wide with suspicion, but he didn't give her a chance to refuse.

  "I'll pay for my sins whether you like it or not." His voice was raw, a mix of a promise and a threat.

  For a heartbeat, it looked like she might push him away, maybe even scream at him to get lost. But something in her shock, the instinct to survive, a flicker of hope drove her to scramble to her feet. Assad hoisted the briefcases as they burst into the street, their boots slapping against the wet concrete, steam and ash trailing behind them.

  The city swallowed the alley whole; neon signs flickered wildly above, and a delivery drone zipped by like a careless moth.

  "

  "Who are you taking me to?"the guard panted, clutching her arm where the skin had blistered.

  Assad kept pushing forward, dodging a vendor's cart and an old man who muttered about the gods.

  "Listen, I need to finish this job first then I'll make it right. Just run. Don't stop until I say so."he said between breaths,

  Her expression twisted confusion, fear, and a fragile glimmer of trust. "Why should I believe—?"

  "Because I said so." It didn't sound like a promise; it was more of a command. It sliced through the chaos, and for reasons she couldn't quite grasp, she followed his lead.

  They navigated through alleyways, each one narrower and darker than the last, until the city's neon glow and clamor faded into an industrial corridor.

  They sprinted until their lungs felt like they were on fire and their legs threatened to buckle beneath them. The city around them buzzed with life flickering neon lights, the low hum of engines, and a cold drizzle that made everything slick underfoot.

  Finally, Assad caught sight of a dimly lit corner shop tucked away from the chaos.

  "Here," he whispered.

  The guard hesitated, glancing back at the empty street, but eventually followed him inside. The shop was barely hanging on, with shelves leaning precariously and a faint odor of oil mixed with stale food alone.

  The clerk dozed behind the counter, headphones on, completely unaware of their presence.

  Assad signaled for silence and crouched down behind a row of shelves. The guard settled next to him, gripping her burned arm, her breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps.

  Assad tapped his wristwatch. The small device flickered with static before projecting a faint, blue-tinted hologram. Taura's image appeared distorted but still recognizable, her sharp eyes scanning the feed as if she were already anticipating trouble.

  "Assad?" Her voice crackled through the static.

  He let out a breath, trying to steady himself. "Where are you? What happened to the maid?"

  Taura's gaze darted to the side for a moment, as if she were checking her surroundings. "I'm on my way. But… the maid—"

  Assad leaned in closer to the flickering screen. "What about her?"

  "She vanished."

  A smirk crept onto his face, relief washing over him. "Good. Guess she took off when things got dicey."

  Taura didn't share his amusement. Her voice dropped to a near whisper, almost lost in the static.

  "No, Assad. She vanished as in, gone and I think she's after those briefcases."

  The smile faded instantly. Assad's fingers tightened around the watch; the faint blue light flickered across his eyes as the words sank in like a knife against his thoughts.

  "After the briefcases?" he echoed slowly.

  Taura nodded. "Yeah. It seems like the drugs in one of those cases are high value."

  Assad understood but kept quiet.

  "Okay I'll see you back at the agency then or are you coming to my location." Assad asked.

  "We'll just have to see."