The room held its breath.
Roulette's voice slithered through the air, a serpent's purr.
"The last item tonight: the elusive Baltimorean Emerald."
I leaned in. Was she serious?
She continued, "A myth for centuries… but what if I told you…"
Silence stretched—deliberate. A cat toying with prey.
"It's real. Rumored to bestow godlike powers—to bend reality itself."
A stunned hush. Faces flickered with greed, awe, naked hunger.
She couldn't possibly have it.
Could she?
I didn't want to believe her.
But I needed to see it.
Was she going to auction it off instead of keeping it for herself?
"Of course, these are only rumors," Roulette smirked, conducting the tension like a maestro.
"Or are they? What we do know is that it's a symbol of unimaginable wealth… and, some say, a sincere heart's wish. One of its kind."
Her voice dipped, dripping with honeyed deceit.
I rolled my eyes, masking the pit opening in my stomach.
The Baltimorean Emerald wasn't a fairytale trinket.
If she had it—really had it—the stakes were higher than anyone here could fathom.
Then it appeared.
Rolled out with the reverence of a religious relic.
An olive-hued jewel, sharp as a dagger, cradled in velvet.
Slightly chipped at the corner—just like the legends said.
Crap.
It was real.
I felt its energy before thought could catch up—pulsing, alive, demanding.
The room leaned in, breathless.
My hunt... the years of dead ends, betrayals, scars that never healed—
And it had been here. Under my nose.
I needed it.
I cut a glance at Elis.
He was already staring at me.
Sharp. Knowing.
Silent words passed between us: It's real.
Then the bidding began—
Fast. Frenzied.
"Ten million!" barked a man in a black hat.
"Twenty million!" —a woman's crisp, detached voice.
"Thirty million," Elis's tone: cold, iron-clad.
"Thirty-five."
"Forty."
"Forty-five." —Elis again, taut as a drawn bow.
"Fifty." The man in the black hat, final.
Roulette purred into her mic, savoring every syllable.
"Fifty million going once... going twice... and—sold!"
I clenched my fists.
A stranger had it.
Someone I couldn't predict.
I needed to intercept him before—
The lights flickered—
Then died.
Hell.
Screams tore through the darkness.
Roulette's voice, shrill with panic:
"No! The emerald!"
The air thickened.
The floor trembled beneath an ancient, unseen weight.
Cracks spread across the ceiling like veins. A chandelier trembled, catching the last ghost of light.
The room crackled with something feral—a predator just out of sight.
Then—
The audience's eyes.
Pitch black.
Every single one of them.
Except Elis.
Except Roulette.
I had never felt it at such proximity. So much darkness. So much hopelessness.
It felt lonely. Empty.
If I were an ordinary mortal, I might've lost all will to live.
Devyn.
He was here.
The stories didn't do him justice.
Mind control. Memory theft.
But this?
This was carnage. Silent. Absolute.
Roulette scanned around nervously and muttered an incantation under her breath.
The prison world orb her man had pushed backstage earlier rolled onto the stage—flattening, cracking open with a low, visceral snap.
A portal.
A gateway to the prison world.
Elis moved instantly.
A blur—dodging an unseen strike, amber eyes blazing.
With a flick, he scattered orange powder into the air—a calculated warning shot aimed at Devyn.
But the fairy fox —white-furred, peacock-tailed, and pulsing with healing magic—was faster.
Slick. Ruthless.
It lunged, seized the Baltimorean Emerald in tiny paws.
Its tail twitched once—
And it was gone.
Through the portal.
"Dammit!" Elis snarled, giving chase without hesitation.
Forest Guardian instincts overriding everything.
He would protect the natural world—even meddlesome, thieving magical creatures.
In a heartbeat, he dove into the swirling void—
And vanished.
I froze.
My lungs burned.
Elis was gone.
My ally.
And I hadn't stopped it.
Devyn's silhouette twisted out of the darkness, smirking.
"No, you'll pay for that," he hissed, as the portal snapped shut.
Roulette collapsed mid-spell, but Devyn pulled her up by the neck.
"Where did you send him to?" he demanded.
But Roulette was unresponsive.
The air shimmered. A soft hiss built from every shadow.
Suddenly snakes started to materialize around Devyn—coiling, biting.
Roulette awoke, eyes turning stone grey, her jet-black hair writhing into coral snakes—red with bands of yellow and black.
She glared at Devyn's eyes and screamed, snakes hissing—but there was no effect.
"Why aren't you turning into stone?" she said in a weakened tone.
"Parlour tricks don't work on me. So let me ask you again… Gorgon. Where did you send the Emerald?"
He tightened his grip around her.
"Where I was trapped in before. The place I left decades ago…" she coughed.
Her words echoed in my mind.
No. She was that Gorgon?
"Mystique Island. 1900s. Prison World."
She spoke, and Devyn tossed her onto the floor.
She stared at me catatonically.
"He… He sent me there years ago." She pointed at me—and fainted.
It all made sense now. She was one of the monsters I had trapped but escaped somehow.
I ripped off my glasses and mask.
Mist writhed at my fingertips, hungry.
Devyn's smile widened.
"Hello, Gacanagh. We meet again, boogeyman."
"Hello, Guardian killer," I sneered.
"To what do I owe the displeasure?"
His laugh cracked like glass.
"I'm in a horrible mood. You sure you want to play with me?"
"Yes," I growled, falling into that old, dangerous rhythm.
"It's customary. You're in my city. Again."
A tendril of mist slithered forward, coiling around his throat.
"What's this, Gacanagh? Premature assassination?" he teased, feigning boredom.
"Nature would just appoint another Dark Guardian, you know. Just like any other."
I stilled.
A cold bead of dread slid down my spine.
If I crossed the wrong line…
I could tip the scales.
And become what I hated most.
The mist wanted blood. So did I.
But not today.
"Are you bluffing yourself, Gacanagh?" Devyn pressed, voice a venomous whisper.
"Don't you feel it? That darkness boiling under your skin?"
"For someone walking between light and dark, you're going to fall off the fence real soon. Who knows, the next Dark Guardian might actually be you."
Darkness slithered from the corners of the room, beckoning to him.
Heavy. Suffocating.
"Just let it in," he crooned.
"That pure, unbridled rage."
No.
I am neither darkness nor light.
I steadied myself.
"Careful now," I whispered, stepping closer.
"You set the stage. I just moved."
The smog coiled tighter—
But Devyn only rolled his eyes and flicked a hand.
"Blatant power displays?" he scoffed.
"I expected more, Gacanagh. Mortals aren't as dumb as you think. Try to keep up."
The mist unraveled. Dissipated.
Smoke on the wind.
The audience blinked—the spell wearing off.
The room tilted. Reality cracked.
Devyn's voice echoed, smug and ghostlike:
"Catch me next time, boogeyman."
And he was gone.
Melted into shadow.
Outplayed me. Again.
I exhaled slowly. Rage simmering beneath my skin.
At least I hadn't killed him.
Yet.
Roulette stirred, dazed. Her hair jet-black once more.
She stood up, dusting herself off, blinking like someone coming out of a trance.
Her eyes fluttered, like a machine rebooting.
Then, a wide grin.
"Technical difficulties, folks! Nothing to worry about!" she chirped, the smell of scorched velvet still in the air.
"Now, where were we? Ah yes — the emerald necklace!"
I blinked.
Emerald necklace?
The room spun.
The truth slipped through my fingers.
Roulette smiled, handing a glittering necklace to the man in the black hat.
No one questioned it.
No one remembered.
Except me.
The only one left standing.
The truth burning inside me.
The only one who knew:
The Baltimorean Emerald was gone.
Elis was trapped — in Mystique Island, a prison world where time eats memory and magic decays.
Devyn had vanished.
And the real war had just begun.