"Shit. We can't hide here for long." Diego murmured. Sorel looked around. He caught a glimpse of an escape route. It was a hole in the wall, and it wasn't guarded at all.
"Diego, over there." Sorel pointed, his hand shaking.
Diego observed the route for a while. "Diego, do you want to risk it?"
"…Tch." Diego clicked his tongue. He knew they couldn't hide long. "Yeah. We're doing this."
A harsh beam of light swept across the corridor, missing them by inches.
"Move!" Diego hissed.
He dropped to the ground and shoved his bag through first. The wall creaked ominously as he squeezed into the opening. Dust rained down, coating his hair and clothes.
"Where are you going?" Diego froze. He was suddenly lifted by a giant bubble that was floating in the air.
Behind him was a masked girl, her brown hair coming out of the hood of the cloak. Sorel's eyes went wide as he watched the scene unfold. His mind raced. "Shit, my plan failed..." His teeth clanked together. It sounds like a hammer hitting steel.
A sharp movement as if his body was rebelling against his mind. His jaw tightened so hard it felt like his teeth might shatter. "Damn it," he cursed inwardly, fighting the sting of failure that burned through his veins. His hands trembled at his sides, not from fear, but from the raw, bitter rage at himself for letting things slip.
Because of him, Diego was captured by the masked people. Because of him...
Thud. Thud. Thud.
León slowly walked over towards the masked woman. The woman stares at León, not sure if to fight or to run. Sorel's jaw softened. "León's here, Diego will be fine." He smiled.
Leon walked past the woman. He has a side-eye towards Diego.
"Weaklings have no place in this academy. Especially not in my family."
His words were sharp, and they stung more than Diego would ever admit. But León didn't care. His eyes didn't linger on his younger brother. He was already walking away, leaving Diego behind without a second thought.
The air in the room seemed to freeze as León started to save the people he thought were worth saving. The woman stood there, still holding Diego in her bubble, her masked face unreadable. Sorel's eyes flicked between her and León's struggling figure, his hands tightening into fists at his sides.
For a long, drawn-out moment, the only sound was Diego's shallow breathing. He was trying to fight, trying to break free, but the woman's bubble was like iron. He was helpless. And it made Sorel's blood boil.
"What the fuck? Did he just... Leave him? What kind of brother is he?" Sorel growled. He couldn't believe that León just left his younger brother. It doesn't matter if he's weak... Does it? Is this how nobles think? Sorel started doubting himself. Maybe. Maybe León was right. Weaklings don't deserve to be here, right?
Sorel slapped himself on the cheeks.
"Snap out of it, dumbass!" He stared at the woman, who was teasing Diego. That ideology wasn't right, and nobody should think like it. Without thinking, he slowly walked towards the lady.
One step. Then another. Each movement was slow and deliberate, but his heart was hammering in his chest. Every step felt like he was getting deeper into a fight he didn't know how to win.
She noticed him, of course. The masked woman turned over to Sorel, her posture relaxed, almost bored, as if he were just another annoyance to deal with. She still hadn't released Diego.
"What do you think you're going to do?" she asked, her voice laced with a mocking sweetness. "You can barely even stand on your own feet, and you think you can change anything?"
Sorel grabbed the sword next to his leg. His eyes glowed red, and he got into a defensive position.
"I said. Let. Him. Go." The woman dropped Diego from the bubble. She turned to fully face Sorel. The woman gave him a soft, amused whistle. mwhistled from amusement.
For a split second, Sorel's gaze softened at Diego's plight. But he snapped his attention back to the woman, his focus sharpening like a blade.
She turned to face him fully now, her head tilting in curiosity, her mask betraying nothing of her true expression. With another soft, amused whistle, she took a slow step forward, her stance one of complete confidence.
"Well, aren't you interesting," she purred, her voice low and teasing, as though they were playing a game instead of standing on the edge of a fight. "A little fire, huh? Maybe this won't be so boring after all."
She raised her hand, and bubbles in the form of spears shot out.
Sorel clutched his sword tightly. "Why did I do this?" He thought. He did something brave yet naive, and he was about to face the consequences.
Sorel tried to deflect the bubbles, but it didn't work.
He gritted his teeth, swinging his sword to intercept the spears, desperate to stop them. The blade clashed against the nearest bubble with a harsh clang, but it didn't shatter. Instead, the bubble bent and absorbed the impact, the sword glancing off with no effect.
"What the hell?" Sorel thought, eyes wide as another spear came at him from the left. He ducked and rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding it, but the others kept coming. The woman's control over them was effortless, like they were extensions of her own will.
Sorel swung again, this time managing to strike one of the bubbles head-on. But the spear didn't pop—it shifted, twisting and expanding around the blade like a liquid, before snapping back to its original shape and lashing at Sorel with a sharp burst of energy.
The force of the blow sent him staggering back, his sword slipping from his hand. He recovered quickly, chest heaving, his red eyes flicking to the masked woman, who was still standing there, watching him with an almost bored expression.
"Why did I do this?" The thought crashed through his mind like a wave, and for a brief, horrible moment, Sorel saw the truth of the situation.
He had been foolish—naive. He had charged in, thinking he could protect Diego, thinking he could take on someone like her, and now he was about to face the consequences. The woman wasn't just playing with him. She was toying with him, pulling the strings, slowly leading him into a corner.
The next spear came fast, aimed directly at his chest.
Sorel didn't have time to think. He instinctively raised his hands, trying to deflect the spear with his own body, but it was too fast. The bubble pierced through the air with a sickening crunch.