MERCURY'S HIDEOUT.

  A Phantom closes in on Paloma.

  He lunges,

  weaving erratically to his left to throw off her aim.

  She doesn't blink.

  The muzzle of her rifle follows his temple with mechanical precision.

  Baaa.

  He drops like a puppet with cut strings.

  In the same heartbeat,

  a second Phantom fires.

  The blast heat-washing her skin.

  Her rifle's muzzle hammers into the Phantom's jaw.

  Baaa.

  The back of his skull meets the floor.

  He doesn't move again.

  Paloma’s lips curl. "My timing was faster. I won the dance."

  Rain's eyes flicker to the door.

  His body coils and snaps toward the exit.

  Paloma’s fist connects with a bone-deep crack,

  sending him spinning onto the silver table.

  Cutlery clatters and rings against the floor.

  A cold laugh echoes. Rain struggles to sit up, he twists his head opposite to a seat nearby. His eyes widen, shaking. "No way... Ellen..."

  Ellen raises a hand, a sly smile playing on her lips. "Hi, Rain."

  Rain struggles to rise, but a heel pins him to the table. Paloma's gaze blazes like fire. "You're not escaping."

  Maxwell and Samuel rushes forward, grabbing Rain's arms and their shapes fracture away.

  They erupt back into existence before the Alligator.

  The Alligator rises from the throne, stalking towards Rain. "Mr. Rudy. Would you do me the favour of telling me where Clary Pintosa is?"

  "Why would I– Ahhhh..." Rain groans as Paloma's fist crushes his stomach.

  "Speak."

  Rain's smile is thin.

  "If you do the kindness of telling me where she is... I might not kill you," the Alligator says.

  Rain remains silent.

  The Alligator shakes his head, disappointed. "What a pity."

  Paloma's gun presses cold against Rain's head, a crack in the air as she cocks it. Rain's eyes drop to the trigger. He swallows.

  "Would you rather I let Paloma finish you? Speak, or die..." the Alligator says.

  Rain's voice shakes like a leaf. "No... no. You have Ellen as a subordinate... surely you're no man to be played with..." His gaze flicks sideways to Paloma's gun, his fate hanging by a thread.

  ICTUS STREET.

  K.B and the three Northern men weave a deadly dance.

  Their rhythm unreadable.

  The air around them hisses.

  The other fighters stand frozen,

  their eyes unable to track the fury of the exchange.

  K.B.’s outline flares backward,

  reappearing yards away.

  His eyes narrow,

  scanning the street like a hawk.

  "Can't be..."

  His pupils bleed into darkness,

  swallowing the light until his eyes are two black holes.

  A Northern man lunges into his personal space, gun raised.

  K.B. is already beside him.

  Baaaa.

  The man hits the dirt,

  dead.

  "Toy time's over. Gotta end this quick," K.B.'s voice is ice.

  Time to change Rhythm, he thinks.

  The remaining two Northern men advance, fury burning in their eyes.

  K.B. strides forward,

  his steps heavy and slow.

  The muzzle of Angel's Fire points toward the cracked pavement. He seals his eyes shut.

  The Northern men charge,

  boots pounding the earth.

  Then—

  suddenly they backpedal mid-stride.

  Their shapes fracture away like holograms flickering out.

  They're dodging.

  They dive and roll as invisible streaks of lead whistle through the air like a storm of needles.

  There is no smoke. No muzzle flash.

  Just the sound of air being shredded by an invisible rain of bullets.

  K.B. stands statue-still. His breathing stops. His eyes remain sealed, a predator sensing the world through the vibration of the air.

  One Northern man stops dead in his tracks.

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  He slumps to the ground,

  his limbs going cold and stiff.

  A tiny crimson dot blooms on his forehead,

  neat and perfect.

  The other keeps flickering,

  a frenzied blur of desperation—

  until an invisible bullet shreds through his arm.

  Another punches his chest with a sickening thud.

  He slams to the ground.

  Dead,

  his eyes locked in a stare of pure shock.

  K.B opens his eyes. "Good."

  The fighters' and warlord's jaws drop. Trembling. They didn't make a move, none seemed able to move, as they stand frozen. Eyes shaking.

  K.B's eyes still scanning the surroundings. "My time's up. I better leave." His form ruptures into thin air.

  Prinky stays straddled on Nina's chest, knees pinning her arms, small body surprisingly heavy. She slices through Nina's coat with deliberate, almost playful cuts.

  Nina's eyes pop wide, breath shallow and ragged, head perfectly still. For a moment Prinky pauses, head tilting, curious.

  "Wait..." Prinky's voice is soft, childlike, almost disappointed. "I forgot..."

  She presses both hands to the sides of her head, digging into her scalp. "Fuck... fuck... fuck... I forgot to cut off her hair first... Good thing I haven't started on the body yet. Hair always goes down first."

  Prinky's smile returns slow, stretching wider. She leans forward, one hand snaking into Nina's dark hair.

  The knife hovers, tip grazing the roots. Then–

  A palm slams into the back of Prinky's head from behind.

  Paaa.

  The sound is wet and meaty.

  Prinky's eyes freeze wide in shock. The knife slips from numb fingers, clattering against the ground. Her grip on Nina's hair loosens.

  She falls sideways, unconscious.

  K.B stands, his gaze burning with a mix of concern and curiosity. "Nina, how could you let this little kid mess you up like this..."

  He swiftly removes his coat and drapes it over Nina's exposed body.

  His eyes flicker towards Prinky, a spark of fascination. "This kid almost killed Nina... fascinating... what a strange world."

  With effortless strength, he scoops Nina onto his shoulder, her form crumbling against him.

  He turns to Prinky, a small smile playing on his lips, and scoops her up onto his other shoulder. With a powerful stride, his silhouette ignites away.

  THE MERCURY'S HIDEOUT.

  The Alligator's eyes narrow. "Good. Tell us. Stop wasting time."

  Rain sighs. "Clary was sold to a town in the Centre City. Khalifah sold her cheap. They're called the New Sage."

  The Alligator's voice is fire. "New Sage? We prep and leave. Now."

  Paloma hits Rain's head with her gun. He drops unconscious.

  "Sleep tight," she says.

  K.B’s figure erupts back, drops Prinky to the ground.

  Paloma's eyes widen. "Prinky!"

  The Alligator chuckles softly. "You mean that girl's Prinky?"

  Paloma nods.

  "Luck's on our side..." The Alligator says, lip curling with quiet resolve.

  K.B walks off with Nina. He signals.

  Ellen beckons him.

  The Alligator turns to Paloma, eyes steady.

  "Paloma."

  "Boss?"

  "Take them hostage."

  Paloma nods. She signals.

  Two guards step forward, grabbing Prinky and Rain. They drag them off.

  ICTUS STREET.

  Bodies lay on the ground, dead. The atmosphere is gloomy. The fighters' faces look pale. Some lean against the wall, tired.

  "I'd better go back home. I've lost too many men. Coming to the east was a mistake anyway..." Venus says, walking away, disappointed. Four guards follow him.

  "That man made a strong showdown," Khalifah says, standing next to The Adviser.

  A girl’s outline ignites before the Adviser. She kneels. "Sir, I have news."

  "What is it?"

  "Lord Rain gave me a scope, told me to watch and report back if things got messy. Our enemies have gained momentum. They've captured Rain. Warlord Paloma and Terri are working with them. Warlord Paloma helped kill the 3 Phantoms. Prinky's captured. Some huge guy took her hostage."

  Jaws drop. The Adviser's hands tremble. "What... The guy we fought... he went to save his sniper and caught Prinky?

  Prinky? Paloma? Terri? What's going on?"

  The armoured Warlord steps closer, voice tight. "So Paloma has joined forces with the enemy now?"

  The Adviser trembles. "The enemy has spit on us," his voice laced with fear.

  MERCURY'S HIDEOUT.

  The Alligator's crew are scattered around, outside the mansion. The air thick with the smell of gunpowder and blood. Some stand in small groups talking.

  Shion lingers near Patience and Maxwell.

  A smile plays on her face, her arms crossed around Patience's shoulder.

  Ellen steps forward.

  "How's Nina?" Patience asks.

  Ellen gives a small, lazy smile. "She'll be fine. Just a dose of poison in her bloodstream."

  "Poison?" Patience's voice tightens.

  "Yep," Ellen says, almost playful. "It paralysis the body for hours. But it's all cleaned out now. K.B. found the antidote."

  Patience rubs her jaw, fingers lingering there. "Something's bugging me. That Rain guy... how do you know him?"

  Ellen shrugs, gaze drifting to the shadows. "I've got history with the North. Old days."

  A hand lands gently on Patience's spine from behind.

  Patience turns fast, eyes wide and desperate.

  "Bobby... What are you doing here?" Shion asks, surprised.

  "I work for Warlord Paloma... so we're allies now."

  "What about Eli?" Patience asks.

  "Killed. He threatened to report to his boss, so I took care of him."

  Paloma walks inside the mansion. The Alligator sits on the throne, eyes on her.

  "Warlord Paloma, you're strong. Be sincere, what's your motive for joining me?"

  Paloma smirks. "You're the only boss worth aligning with."

  "Explain."

  "Silas is a corrupt mastermind. Trafficking, sponsoring uprisings, rape, slavery, torture... He takes down anyone in his way or with power. I've seen it in the East."

  "Paloma... I understand your frustrations, but I have my own goals coming here."

  Paloma nods. "Fine, I get it. But I'd rather serve someone with morals than follow a path of corruption."

  Her eyes cloud. "Silas might turn the North against us. I'm from–"

  The Alligator cuts in. "Paloma, your loyalty's impressive. You're with me now. I think you're right about Silas — he's a force to be reckoned with. Our world's corrupt, but Silas's darkness is the kind that needs to be stopped.

  I'm getting a bad gritty vibe from him, so let's keep our distance for now. He's a formidable opponent, a tough shadow boss to take down."

  Paloma's lips curl. "I'm honored. I'll prove myself."

  The Alligator's tone firms with quiet resolve. "Good. Prinky and Rain are yours. Take them hostage. Make them serve us, willing or not. Get them on our team."

  A hint of firmness. "Fine," her eyes narrow slightly. "What's our next move after now?"

  "We roll out to Centre City. Track down Clary Pintosa. Find her, no matter what. I'll scout out a base inside. You'll get the deets on our hideout. Return back ASAP once you've got her."

  "Roger." Paloma turns and walks away.

  HOUSE OF DANIEL DE DIEGO — NORTH

  The red-brick castle rises against the northern sky, guarded by men who stand with deadly stillness.

  Inside, six thrones command the great hall. A crowned man sits at the center.

  A guard enters and bows. “I bring news from Silas.”

  “Alejandro,” the king says evenly, “what is the news?”

  The guard removes a folded letter and begins to read.

  > Addressed to: Calle de Mateo Villalobos Street

  To the Royal House of Gabriel De Diego,

  Paloma De Diego, Warlord of the East, has betrayed her title and allegiance, joining the enemy in slaughtering countless lives.

  A request for aid against this enemy led to the deployment of nine Ruby Phantoms from the House of Symbian. Eight were killed—with Paloma’s involvement.

  She has also captured Rain, a Ruby Phantom. We seek redress.

  Silence settles over the hall.

  The king’s eyes burn. “Paloma… mi querida hija (my dear daughter.) She has been taken? Why would she…?”

  “This is interesting,” the woman seated on the right says calmly. “A fascinating turn of events.”

  “Catalina,” the woman on the left replies, “what is fascinating about this? Paloma was determined to become a warlord. She went East to serve. She is strong—a true Ruby Phantom. What could have driven her to this?”

  “Do not be fooled, Luciana,” Catalina says.

  “Paloma has always been different. Recently, she sent me letters. She believes Silas is corrupt—worse than we know.”

  Luciana’s composure falters. “So she chose the enemy because of that? After everything Silas gave her? He paid dearly for her service.”

  The king straightens. “Inform the Havers. Tell them to send more Phantoms.”

  Catalina places a hand gently over his. “Papa. Not yet.”

  She rises from her throne.

  “Alejandro, gather the strongest Phantoms from the Elite. First, we measure the enemy’s strength. The House of Symbian is already involved—they have suffered losses, and Rain has been taken. Escalation now would be reckless.”

  She steps forward, her voice firm.

  “Capture Paloma. Bring her home. This time, she returns to us. We will repay Silas what he spent for her service.”

  A beat.

  “Go.”

  He bows, turns, and leaves the hall.

  The doors close.

  The thrones remain—six seats of power beneath a roof that suddenly feels far too heavy.