After Albert's call ended, the trio stayed on that bench. The moon climbed higher through the cloudless sky—the kind of clear night that cuts right through you with cold. But Angelo felt nothing. His mind was too busy racing through possibilities.

  None of them noticed the tiny silver speck bouncing along the massive mountain face in the distance.

  Sol was up there doing his own training, pushing himself to master flight his own way. Controlled explosions burst from his palms and feet—growing better at irregular intervals.

  Back at the CampShip, Neiva stood alone in the cramped interior. Her hands moved carefully as she set down her Trinergy swords, then her phone with the Pocket Red figurine still attached. She placed them gently in her cabin like they were made of glass.

  She couldn't make a sound. Couldn't risk drawing attention to those particular anchor points.

  She stared at them for a long moment, her face twisted with conflict—like someone who'd finally worked up the nerve to jump into a volcano.

  Without a word, she slipped outside. Every movement deliberate, controlled. The CampShip itself was an anchor point—they could see through it. Only when she reached the tree line did her blue aura flare to life. Then she disappeared into the darkness, silent as a held breath.

  Under her shirt, the Auranium under-armor pressed against her skin—light, surprisingly comfortable. She'd managed to reshape the chest area while they were traveling. It fit well enough.

  She launched herself from tree to tree, scaling hills with metal handholds when needed. One destination burned in her mind.

  "I'd bet anything they're hiding there." Hair whipped across her face as she moved. The image flashed again—that cave she'd spotted earlier when they were searching for a landing spot.

  She couldn't fly, but she was fast. Covered serious distance in minutes. Then the real obstacle appeared—a sheer cliff face stretching up into darkness.

  She bit her lip hard. She could already hear Red's mocking laughter. Sol would've found some clever way around this.

  Her fists clenched. "I'm not backing down. Not from a damn cliff."

  Metal rods materialized in her grasp. She sprinted straight at the rock face, jumped at the last second, then started hammering the rods in as makeshift handholds. The rhythm was working—until she hit a section of harder stone that rejected her metal completely.

  "Shit!" She flailed for a heartbeat before managing to pierce the cliff face just before gravity won.

  "The hell is this rock made of? Geodite?!" She blew hair from her face and kept climbing, moving around the problematic section.

  Finally, she hauled herself over the edge. Below, the landscape spread out in moonlit detail. And there—that dark opening in the mountainside, flickering with distant light.

  "There it is." She squinted. "Are those... lights inside?"

  It was now or never.

  She crafted a metal glider—adjusting size and shape based on half-remembered physics lessons. Then a metal cable for backup. "Just in case." She muttered.

  She sprinted to the opposite cliff edge and launched herself into open air.

  For exactly three seconds, it worked.

  Then gravity reminded her she wasn't Sol.

  "I'm dropping like a stone!" The words tore from her throat. "At least that theory's tested."

  Despite the terrible gliding, she covered decent ground before hitting dirt. The rest would be on foot.

  Meanwhile, back on the bench, Blue had dissolved back into Angelo. Red decided to check their surveillance marbles again—then his stupid grin returned.

  "Well, well, well. Look what we've got here."

  Angelo closed his eyes, sharing Red's perspective. Colorful dots moved in the distance—people approaching MountShade.

  "Can't confirm it's them yet," Angelo muttered.

  "What else could they possibly be?" Red shot back.

  Blue's voice emerged from within. "Perhaps other travelers who prefer moonlit journeys, as opposed to us."

  "What?" Red replied to the air. "What are the odds of that?"

  "Doesn't matter." Angelo yawned, rubbing his tired eyes. "Not a hundred percent. So sit tight, hothead. Though I really hope it's them. I'm exhausted."

  Red's face twisted into a grin. "Just go to sleep, Angie. I'll handle this myself!"

  "Not happening."

  Neiva finally reached the cave entrance. She crouched behind a boulder, scanning for movement.

  Nothing.

  "Alright. I'm going in." She straightened to leap—then froze. "Wait. Maybe I should..." She hesitated, then sighed. "What can I even see with metal vision? God, I'm useless."

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  She shook her head. "Screw it. Let's try anyway."

  Her eyes flickered—still neon blue, but something shifted. The world looked mostly the same, except certain things now glowed with blue light.

  Metal. She was seeing metal.

  The cave entrance practically sparkled with it. "Traps, probably." She looked up. A large opening in the ceiling—no metal anywhere near it. "Safer bet."

  She sprinted from cover and scaled the rock face, then peered through the hole.

  Her eyes went wide. "They're really here..." The weight of her decision suddenly felt heavier.

  The cavern below was massive. Groups of bandits clustered around tables that looked like they'd grown straight from the earth itself. They were drinking, laughing, raising toasts like pirates celebrating a successful raid.

  She leaned further in. At the far end sat a throne—also made of earth—and on it lounged a man who made Hugo look average-sized. Everything around him was scaled up. Giant plates piled with food. A cup the size of a bucket that never left his massive hand.

  She shifted to get a better view of the far end—and the stone crumbled under her palm.

  "Eh?"

  Was the last sound she made before falling face first into the lions den.

  The impact knocked the wind from her lungs. She scrambled upright, rubbing her head where she'd landed.

  Every single bandit was staring at her.

  Silence filled the cavern like water filling a tank.

  Neiva dropped into a defensive stance, head swiveling to track potential threats from every direction.

  The hulking man rose from his throne. Each step shook the ground slightly. "Well, well, well. What do we have..." He moved closer, his shadow falling over her. "...here?"

  He leaned down, studying her face. "My, my. Aren't you a pretty thing?"

  Neiva's eyes narrowed to dangerous slits. Metal swords materialized in both hands.

  "Oh?" His smile turned predatory. Around the cavern, bandits twisted in their seats to watch. "Feisty one, are we?"

  "You're the bandits terrorizing MountShade?" Neiva's voice came out sharp, business-like.

  The man blinked. "Excuse me?"

  "Are you or are you not?!" She had no patience for games.

  His smile widened. "And what if we are?"

  Metal armor began forming around her body piece by piece. Her grip tightened on both swords. "Then your reign of terror ends tonight!"

  "Oh, ho, ho!" Purple light erupted in his eyes. Violet energy wrapped around his massive frame like living fire. "I'd love to see you try, little girl!"

  The last words dripped with cruelty.

  "HAAAAA!" Neiva launched herself forward, both swords slashing sideways in a silver blur.

  The ground erupted beneath her feet. Earth rose like a living thing, forming a thick wall that forced her to twist mid-air and retreat.

  She conjured a metal disc and hurled it at his head with all her strength.

  Another wall blocked it effortlessly. The disc clattered to the ground.

  "Damn it." She closed in again—then saw his setup was complete. Massive gauntlets of compressed earth now covered his arms, each one bigger than her entire body. They looked like they could crush stone.

  "GO! GO! GO!" The bandits cheered from their tables, treating this like evening entertainment. Not a threat—a show.

  Neiva slashed at the earthen armor. Her swords bounced off without leaving a mark. The same blades that cut through Red's forged energy couldn't scratch this rock.

  Maybe that achievement meant less than she'd thought.

  He kept coming. Punches like battering rams. Earth rising beneath her feet as spikes. Walls cutting off escape routes. Pillars trying to catch her between them. She had one advantage—she was fast. Agile enough to stay alive.

  But not strong enough to hurt him.

  And she knew they were toying with her. This was a game. If even one more bandit decided to join in, it would be game over.

  Worse than all of that—no one was coming to help.

  How could they? She'd left every way for them to find her back at the CampShip.

  She had her back against the wall. Literally and figuratively. She'd bitten off way more than she could chew.

  "If staring death in the face doesn't change a man..." Angelo's orange eyes burned in the darkness, his voice carrying that theatrical edge. "Nothing will."

  The captured bandits trembled where his energy held them. Behind Angelo, Red's crimson eyes gleamed with hungry anticipation.

  "Find redemption and change your path." Angelo leaned closer. "Or find out why they call me the Angel of Death."

  "Hey, you made it rhyme this time!" Red shattered the moment completely. "Had a good rhythm too. You should do that more often."

  Angelo whipped around. "Are you serious right now? Can't you see I'm in the middle of something?!"

  "Same speech, different night," Blue would've shaken his head if he had one right now.

  "Don't you start too!" Angelo snapped at the empty air.

  The bandits cycled through several stages of confusion. Their eyes darted between Angelo and... apparently nothing? They landed firmly on "utterly baffled."

  Angelo locked back onto them, jaw tight. "WELL?!" His bark made them all jump. "Redemption or death? Pick one! And answer fast before I lose what little patience I have left!"

  "REDEMPTION! REDEMPTION!" They practically screamed it, words tumbling over each other like they were competing.

  Everyone could tell Angelo wasn't really angry at them—he was pissed at Red and something... Invisible. But nobody's stupid enough to point that out to someone calling himself the Angel of Death.

  "Does..." One woman started, voice shaking. "Does that mean you'll let us go?"

  Angelo met her tearful eyes. Then he laughed—sharp and cold. "Ha!" The humor vanished instantly. "No."

  Forged energy wings erupted from his back, glowing orange in the darkness.

  "Instead, you're all going to lead me to your hideout." He paused. "Right?"

  They glanced at each other nervously.

  "Right?" More bite this time. More threat.

  They swallowed hard and nodded.

  "Good. Let's go." An orange tether wrapped around all of them at once as Angelo launched skyward.

  Back in the cave, things were falling apart for Neiva.

  Another thunderous impact forced her backward. She landed badly, nearly tripped, barely caught herself. Her breathing came heavy now. Dirt streaked her face. Her hair was a disaster.

  "Hmm." The bandit king smiled, shifting his weight. "Impressed you lasted this long, kitten."

  She dropped into a defensive stance, reading his body language for the next move.

  "But it ends now!"

  He exploded forward like a launched boulder. Neiva tried to leap away—but the wall behind her slammed into her back at the same instant. The impact disoriented her just enough.

  Both massive earthen gauntlets came together like a closing vice.

  She only had time to cross her arms.

  The pressure was immediate and crushing. He squeezed tighter, grinning through the gap between his fists—the only thing she could see. Like looking through a window straight into hell.

  "Ah... urgh..." She struggled, trying to break free. Nothing worked.

  "Don't worry, darling." His voice turned sweet as poisoned honey. "I'm not going to kill you... yet."

  Her aura flared brighter—blue light burning as she pushed past her limits. Both of them shook with effort. A deadlock of pure will.

  "Stop struggling. It's pointless."

  Blood dripped from her nose. She was pushing too hard—she could taste iron in her mouth. Everything started spinning.

  "Oh here's an idea, killing you would be such a waste," He kept talking, voice almost soothing.

  "Wh-what... are... you—"

  "Instead, I could turn you into my personal maid! How does that sound, hm? Better than dying, right? Hahaha!"

  His words echoed in her skull like thunder. His laughter bounced off the cavern walls, mixing with the crowd's amusement.

  For the first time, real fear showed on her face.

  She could hear them. All of them. Every single bandit laughing at the suggestion. Even the women. Not one shred of sympathy anywhere.

  Everyone here was twisted. Rotten to the core. Not a single innocent soul in this cave.

  Tears streamed down her cheeks. She refused to accept this. Refused to give up.

  But what choice did she have?

  Was the last thing she'd ever hear going to be the laughter of monsters?