They moved fast.
They didn't have the luxury not to.
Seris was in custody somewhere deep in the city's structured jaws, the streets were collapsing into controlled chaos, and the containment lattice still pressed down on everything like a god placing its hand on a bug.
Aiden felt it.
Every wish.
Every prayer.
Every terrified plea.
Too many.
Too loud.
They cut through alleyways and barricaded streets until they reached the inner district just before the governmental quarter.
And that was when they realized the enemy understood something cruelly well.
If you want someone like Aiden?
You don't go after fortresses.
You go after innocence.
They heard it before they saw it.
Crying.
Not the panicked, scattered crying of chaotic disaster.
Organized crying.
Held in place.
Purposeful.
They turned the corner.
Aiden's heart dropped out of him.
Children.
At least twenty.
Herded into the center of a broad plaza and penned behind shimmering containment projections. Not cages. That would be monstrous.
These were safe fields.
Protective barriers.
Officially "civilian protection measures."
Parents were being held back by soldiers farther out.
Clerics were "calming" them with holy platitudes.
Officials were "reassuring" them.
Everyone pretending they were helping.
And above them, perched like vultures under banners of state authority—
mages.
They weren't guarding the children.
They were waiting.
Someone noticed Aiden.
The word spread like sparks on oil.
"There—!"
"Target confirmed—!"
"Prepare the inducement protocol."
Inducement.
Aiden finally understood.
This wasn't bait.
This was leverage.
If he ran?
They could escalate.
If he surrendered?
They'd "save" the children.
The commander raised his staff and amplified his voice.
"Unregistered anomaly!"
Warm. Polite.
Like a parent addressing a frightened animal.
"Please cooperate and surrender to state custody to ensure ongoing civilian safety. Demonstrate goodwill. We will release the children unharmed."
A child stumbled and began sobbing.
Another clutched a teddy bear.
One whispered, "Mama… I'm scared…"
Aiden shook.
"No," Liora gasped softly. "No—they wouldn't—"
"Yes," Ardent said quietly. "They would. They are."
Aiden walked forward despite her grabbing him.
He didn't look like a hero.
He looked like someone whose chest had been hollowed out.
"Don't hurt them," he said hoarsely. "Please. I'll come with you. Just—don't—"
The commander smiled with practiced compassion.
"Of course. Compliance is all we require."
Behind him, one of the mages whispered:
"Look at them… even their fear stabilizes spell arrays. Incredible."
Aiden heard it.
Something twisted inside him.
They weren't afraid of him.
They were fascinated.
He took another step.
"Stop," Liora whispered.
"I can't," he whispered back.
And then—
the universe did something it rarely does.
It gave Liora the choice instead.
A hidden sniper spell activated.
Not aimed at Aiden.
At a little boy trying to crawl through the barrier toward his mother.
To shock.
To frighten.
To demonstrate "stakes."
Ardent shouted.
Liora moved.
She didn't think.
Didn't rationalize.
Just launched herself into the line of fire.
The spell detonated against her side.
Not a clean wound.
Not cinematic.
Ugly.
Heat.
Tearing.
Burning magic eating at muscle.
She crashed into the plaza stones with a sound no one should ever make.
The children screamed.
The commander swore.
"That wasn't meant to— DAMN IT— stabilize the perimeter!"
Aiden ran to her, kneeling, hands shaking.
"Liora— Liora—!"
She smiled.
It was weak.
It shouldn't have been a smile.
But she did it anyway.
"Still… not letting helplessness be an option…" she breathed, voice shaking with pain.
Her blood hit the stone.
Magic reacted negatively to it.
That shouldn't have happened.
But it did.
Something in Liora wasn't "nothing."
Whatever her past touched…
whatever her bloodline remembered…
the barrier flickered.
Just a hair.
But it flickered.
Some children collapsed through.
Two bolted to their parents.
Soldiers panicked.
Clerics shouted.
Orders clashed.
The perfect plan cracked.
The city did not like cracks.
Aiden pressed his forehead to hers, voice breaking.
"Stay with me—please— please—"
She gripped his shirt.
"Not… dying," she growled. "I… refuse."
He laughed and sobbed at the same time.
"Of course you do."
Blood soaked his hands.
She was pale.
She was shaking.
She was alive.
Barely.
But alive.
The commander steadied himself.
"Regain formation— secure the remaining children—"
Ardent moved.
And for the first time since this began—
he did not smile.
The plaza dimmed.
Wind died.
Sound softened.
The world tilted toward something old.
He walked forward slow and calm, like an executioner giving courtesy one last time.
"No," he said without volume but with absolute authority.
Several soldiers collapsed to their knees.
A cleric vomited.
A mage cried without understanding why.
"You took a child's fear," Ardent said quietly. "And you put your hands in it. You shaped it. You used it. And now you have taken MY student's family…"
He looked at Liora.
At Aiden.
Softened.
Then sharpened like a blade dipped in frost.
"I did promise to be patient."
He tilted his head.
"I believe my patience just ended."
The commander tried to steady his staff.
"Fae— you will not interfere— this is sanctioned— lawful—"
Ardent's eyes flickered gold and void.
He smiled.
Kindly.
Like a parent about to discipline a child who truly earned it.
"My dear boy," he said gently,
"you have absolutely no idea what lawful means to the things above you."
Aiden held Liora tighter as soldiers faltered, reality strained, and something began to awaken around Ardent that should not casually exist.
Liora whispered weakly:
"…hey… idiot…"
He looked down fast.
"Yeah?"
"If I die… I'll… haunt you…"
He laughed.
He cried.
He whispered back:
"Deal."
Above the plaza,
for the first time since the plan began,
someone in a noble room
felt afraid.