Kínitos pressed Marco against the stairwell wall, one finger to his lips signaling silence.
The woman's voice echoed up from below, musical and wrong.
"Two little birds trying to fly away."
Footsteps—no, not footsteps. The sound of fabric brushing against concrete. Like a dress dragging across the floor.
But Widow didn't walk. She *floated*.
Kínitos looked up the stairwell. Sixth floor was an inferno—no escape that way. Down was where Widow was coming from.
They were trapped.
Marco's eyes were wide with terror, the scratch on his face still bleeding. Purple smoke had started leaking from him again—thin wisps, barely visible, but growing thicker.
Kínitos grabbed his shoulder, meeting his eyes. *Stay quiet.*
Marco nodded frantically.
Widow's voice came closer. "I can feel you up there. Two signatures. One familiar…" A pause. "And one very interesting."
She appeared around the landing below them.
Widow floated up the stairs, her feet never touching the ground. Her long black dress flowed around her like she was underwater. Her pale skin seemed to glow in the emergency lighting, and her blue eyes—those horrible glowing blue eyes—scanned the stairwell with predatory focus.
She stopped on the landing one floor below them, tilting her head.
"There you are," she said softly.
Kínitos activated his suit. Purple light raced across his body.
Widow's eyes widened slightly—recognition, or maybe surprise. "Purple. Just like your friend downstairs." She drifted higher, closing the distance. "Who are you people?"
"No one important," Kínitos said, positioning himself between Widow and Marco. "Just wrong place, wrong time."
Widow laughed—a sound like wind chimes in a storm. "Wrong place? You're in a Saint Patro stronghold during their most important transaction of the year. You rescued one of their prisoners. And now…" Her glowing eyes shifted to Marco. "You have the heir."
Marco pressed harder against the wall, purple smoke now visibly pouring from his body.
Widow's expression changed. Not surprise. *Hunger*.
"Oh," she breathed. "Oh, you're *blooming*." She drifted closer to Marco, ignoring Kínitos entirely. "I can feel it. The power awakening. Raw. Uncontrolled." Her lips curved into a smile. "Delicious."
"Back off," Kínitos warned.
Widow's eyes flicked to him, annoyed. "You're in my way."
She raised one pale hand.
Kínitos felt the air pressure change. Something invisible slammed into him. He flew backward, crashing into the wall behind him. The impact knocked the wind from his lungs.
Marco screamed as Widow floated toward him, her hand reaching for his face.
"Don't be afraid," she whispered. "I just want a little taste—"
Purple smoke *exploded* from Marco.
Not in wisps. Not in streams. A massive eruption of purple energy that filled the entire stairwell, thick as fog, choking out the air.
Widow pulled back, her eyes narrowing. "Protective instinct. Interesting."
The smoke began to take shape around Marco—not crocodile jaws like Monti's, but something else. Geometric patterns. Shifting planes that looked almost like fractured glass suspended in the air.
Marco stared at his hands, at the purple energy pouring from them. "What's happening to me?"
"You're manifesting," Widow said, sounding delighted. "Your paradox ability is emerging under stress. How *wonderful*."
One of the geometric shapes—a perfect hexagon made of purple light—rotated in the air. The stairwell floor beneath it simply *ceased to exist*. A perfect hexagonal hole appeared, edges impossibly clean, revealing the floor below.
"Ohhh how nice," Widow breathed. "You look to be a math based on this going to be great" She looked at Marco with genuine awe. "You're powerful. Much more than I expected."
More hexagons appeared in the air around Marco, rotating, reality bending wherever they touched. Part of the wall vanished. A section of railing. The emergency light overhead.
"Stop it!" Marco shouted, but he clearly had no control. The purple smoke kept pouring out, the hexagons kept appearing, reality kept *breaking*.
Kínitos forced himself up, his ribs screaming. He needed to get between Widow and Marco, but the hexagons were appearing randomly now. One wrong step and he might just stop existing.
Widow floated through the chaos effortlessly, unbothered by the reality distortions. "I was sent here for the heir. To bring him back alive." She reached toward Marco. "But I think I'll keep you for myself instead. Imagine what you'll become with proper training—"
Kínitos activated his speed and *moved*.
He blurred through the gaps between the hexagons, faster than they could form, and grabbed Marco. His momentum carried them both past Widow, toward the stairs leading down.
Widow spun, her dress whipping around. "NO!"
She thrust both hands forward.
That invisible force hit Kínitos again—but this time he was ready. He activated immovability mid-movement, becoming an anchor point in space.
The force crashed against him and *stopped*.
But his momentum was gone. He was stuck, frozen in place, with Marco in his arms.
The hexagons were still appearing around them. One formed directly in front of Kínitos's face—
He released immovability and dropped, the hexagon passing through the space where his head had been.
He hit the stairs hard, Marco tumbling with him. They rolled down half a flight before Kínitos could stop their momentum.
Widow descended after them, no longer smiling. "You're making this difficult."
"Good," Kínitos gasped.
Marco's purple smoke was fading now, the hexagons disappearing one by one. He was exhausted, barely conscious, the manifestation having drained him.
Kínitos pulled him to his feet, supporting his weight. They had to keep moving. Had to—
Footsteps pounded up the stairs below them.
Heavy. Fast. Accompanied by purple smoke and the sound of something *snarling*.
Monti burst through the doorway onto the landing, his red suit glowing, purple smoke trailing behind him like a living thing.
His eyes found Kínitos. Then Marco. Then Widow.
"Get away from them," Monti growled.
Widow looked between the three of them—Kínitos and his purple suit, Monti and his red one, Marco still leaking unstable purple smoke.
Her smile returned.
"Can't even take care of one guy damn it two fangs," she said, "This is going to be fun."