I heard three quiet knocks.
I gave Alan one last look—his face tense even in sleep—then carefully shut the door to his cramped little room.
"You're quick," I said instead of a greeting, taking in Storik's serious expression. "Come on."
Before he could ask—
"Holivan's asleep. I'll explain on the way."
"Why meet this late?" Andrew frowned as we walked. "The final stage is tomorrow. We shouldn't leave him alone."
"I doubt anything would help him now." I exhaled sharply. "That last round nearly broke him. He made the right choice—but only he knows what it cost him."
"Did he tell you who he saw?"
"No." My jaw tightened. "And I didn't call you here to discuss his mental state. We need to stop tomorrow's trial. He won't survive it."
Andrew slowed.
"You know what it is?"
"It was supposed to be a hostage rescue." I paused. "Lowen got bored."
"…and changed it."
"Of course he did."
"That's against the rules."
We both knew that didn't mean a damn thing.
"So?" Andrew asked.
"Only a demon can oppose another demon." I grimaced. "One with authority."
"You're going to Blocking."
"You've got a better idea?" I snapped.
Silence.
"…What's the trial?"
"A death match." My voice went flat. "Not just between them. Each of them has to protect someone close—someone from the Specials. The winner kills both. The opponent… and the one they were protecting."
Andrew stopped.
"Alan won't do it."
"He'll break."
"…Or die."
We walked the rest of the way in silence.
When we reached the door, Andrew spoke again.
"What am I here for?"
"The one who keeps me from going too far."
I didn't elaborate.
Didn't need to.
"Well, well," Blocking drawled, smiling like he'd been expecting us. "What does little Clyde want?"
I felt irritation spike instantly.
Andrew's hand tightened on my shoulder.
Right.
Focus.
"Stop the final trial."
Blocking blinked—
then laughed.
"You?" His smile sharpened. "Asking me for help? Don't want to watch your precious favorite suffer?"
"I'm asking for a favor," I said, forcing the words out. "One that costs you nothing. In return, I'll repay you when the time comes."
"And why would I ever need your help?" he smirked.
Andrew stepped forward.
"I'm asking too. Alan matters to me… as my student."
Blocking's gaze shifted.
Now he was interested.
"I'm a Special," Andrew continued. "Not high-ranked. But I'll repay you. Anything you ask."
Anything.
Even his life.
I shot him a glance—
and irritation twisted deeper.
Of course.
Always him.
Always stepping in first.
Always the one standing between us.
"That's interesting," Blocking murmured.
A pause.
Then—
"Fine. I'll allow it."
I blinked.
"That's it?"
"Go get some rest," he said lightly. "Tomorrow's just a ceremony."
The door slammed shut in our faces.
I stared at it for a second.
"I don't like this."
"Yeah," Andrew said quietly.
"Me neither."
I had barely opened my eyes in the morning when Storik started pounding on the door.
"Did something happen?" Alan asked, already dressed as he went to open it.
"Andrew?"
He smiled—bright, open—when Storik stepped inside. Met my gaze first.
Then turned to Alan and smiled at him just the same.
"How are you?" he asked, reaching out to him.
Alan lowered his eyes, almost shy.
Disgusting.
Why the hell did that piss me off so much?
We all had the same goal.
So why did it matter?
Why did it matter who he smiled at?
"Hey," I cut in anyway, sharper than I meant to. "You got a reason to barge in this early?"
"Riki Moss was found dead in his bed," Andrew said. "There won't be a final trial."
"What do you mean he's dead?" Alan frowned. "Who did it?"
Storik and I both stayed silent.
We knew.
And neither of us cared.
It wasn't Alan.
That's all that mattered.
I let out a slow breath.
Last night, I made a deal with a demon.
So did Storik.
Not for power.
Not for the system.
For one person.
Am I losing it?
What else explains this—
this need to see him every day?
Close.
Within reach.
With me.
He should be smiling like that at me.
"And what did they decide?" I asked, still staring at the two of them standing far too close.
"The ceremony's in four hours," Andrew said. "Alan Holivan will be declared the winner. He gets one wish."
He looked at him.
"Do you know what you want?"
"I want to be somewhere far away from all this," Alan said with a faint, bitter laugh. "And lose my memory again."
"You can't wish for anything that breaks existing contracts," I said automatically.
"I know."
He looked straight at me.
Calm.
Too calm.
"Don't worry. My choice will do a lot more good than running away."
That look—
steady, but with something darker underneath—
tightened something in my chest.
Lately, Alan had been hiding something.
Something serious.
Something dark.
And I was sure Blocking was behind it.
Which meant I needed answers.
Fast.
Demons couldn't be trusted.
Ironic.
"Then get the hell out and let us sleep," I said, waving Storik off.
I watched—with a flicker of something bitter—as the two of them said their reluctant goodbyes.