Safe Place (2)

??? POV

"Did you understand everything?"

"Yes, Sir Seventh," I replied, watching the man in front of me pull a mask over his face.

"Good," he said curtly, then gestured for me to follow.

I glanced back once—four others, cloaked like me, stood in silence. With a simple nod, they moved. No words, no hesitation.

Sir Seventh broke into a sprint without so much as a look over his shoulder. We followed.

The hospital building loomed ahead, heavily guarded. That was our target.

As we neared, two more joined our group, running effortlessly beside us—flanking us, like shadows. Their presence alone made it clear they were here just to help us reach our destination.

I ran as hard as I could, but I could feel it—one of the men beside us kept glancing my way, his eyes sharp and cold. Judging. I could tell he was cursing me in his head for being so slow.

The other two didn't seem to care. They kept their speed in perfect sync with ours.

We stormed past the frontlines with barely a pause—Sir Seventh moved like a phantom, taking down only the guards in our path, wasting no time.

"GET BACK!!" someone roared ahead. A bulky man—he looked like he was in charge of this flank. Not that it mattered.

A few of the weaker guards fell back instinctively, while three others stepped forward to join their leader. Brave. Or foolish.

The chaos of our sudden push toward the backline made the Duke's defense falter. Confusion spread like wildfire—guards turned their heads, orders shouted over screams. It was all the opening we needed.

With just three Blue stages sowing disruption, our men surged past the weakened frontlines and flooded the rear.

We slipped through that chaos.

As we approached the emergency stairs, the same man who had glared at me earlier tore through a cluster of guards with his bare hands. It was brutal—quick, efficient, merciless.

"This way," he said without even turning, motioning us up the steps.

We climbed fast, the old metal stairs groaning under our weight but holding. Below us, our allies were buying us time with blood. By the time we cleared the last landing, so many of our own had reached the backline that none of the guards even noticed us breaking off.

"Make sure you complete the mission."

He didn't wait for a reply—just leapt upward, vaulting onto the roof after saying that.

Not a command. A warning.

We slipped one by one through the emergency door and into the dim, sterile hallways of the hospital before closing the door behind us.

I turned to glance at the group behind me. Familiar faces. We'd fought side by side for long enough that some might call us comrades… but I wouldn't. None of us were that close. Not really.

"So," I whispered, peeling my mask off and keeping my voice low, "everyone's clear on the plan?"

They nodded, but I kept going. "We're not here to attack the duchess. With what we know of the Duke's manpower, that's suicide. There are supposedly eleven Blue stage guards under his command. Only eight were outside. That means at least three are guarding her." I paused. "Our real objective—"

"Yeah, yeah, we get it," Renna cut in, waving a hand dismissively, her voice still a whisper but tinted with impatience. "Snatch the Athran kid. Doesn't matter what else happens. We're not beating the Duke—no one can—not with our numbers. And we are definitely not reaching the duchess while he's still standing."

I was about to tell her off, but her brother, Ren, jumped in first.

"Do you even think he would even have a chance?" he asked, not looking at anyone in particular.

"What are you talking about?" I said, frowning.

Ren shrugged. "The Duke. You think he has a chance of surviving a fight against three Blue stages?"

"I've never seen him in person, obviously," Fin murmured from the front, "but you know what they say… There's a rumor in every sector of this region: if you ever run into Duke Athran, it's better to kill yourself. Fleeing and fighting are two choices that will never be right."

"Rumors," Renna scoffed.

"Well, we also don't know anyone who has survived meeting him as a seeker," Fin added flatly.

I watched them bicker—Renna, always loud even when she tried to whisper, and Ren with his careless curiosity. Fin, as always, was unreadable, his dirt-brown hair half-shadowing his face.

"Enough," I cut in. "You're being too loud."

They fell silent. Finally.

"Let's just get moving," Fin said, adjusting his cloak. "Our goal's the top floor, right?"

"Yeah." I nodded. "Sir Seventh said all we need to do is grab the kid while the Duke is occupied."

Before any of them could respond, a hand lifted.

Everyone turned to the black-haired woman standing ahead of us. She was still, focused—her hand cupped near her ear.

"I heard a metal door shut," she said. "Above us."

The silence that followed was deafening. My eyes flicked down the dark stretch of hallway toward the staircase on other side that mirrored the one we were standing close to.

"Shit, Sir Seventh and the others are already done?! This is terri—" Renna began to whisper-shout, but Fin cut her off.

"It could be the Duke."

"Or anyone," I said, stepping between them. "Doesn't matter who. The only movement we confirmed before entering the hospital was on the ground floor. Anyone coming from above is definitely going to descend till there. Which means they'll come this way."

I raised my hand.

"Quick. Hide. Use the darkness. Don't make a sound."

No one questioned it. We scattered into the darkness.

Beside me, Yuri, the black-haired woman, tightened her cloak, its dark fabric melting her figure into the shadows. The rest of us followed suit, drawing ourselves back against the dim walls of the hallway.

Not a word was spoken. It felt like even breathing might betray us.

Whether it was the Duke or Sir Seventh and his men coming down those stairs, neither option was without consequence. But at least if it was the latter... we might live. The Duke? No. That would be a death sentence.

I silently cursed myself. 'I should've cut the chatter earlier. We wasted time.'

Yuri had been right. The metal door had closed above, and now... the soft tap, tap of footsteps echoed from the stairwell.

Someone was descending.

They were still above us, but getting closer. The pace changed—what had been slow, careful steps turned rapid, almost like someone was skipping.

What the hell?

All of us exchanged glances in the dark, uncertainty flickering in our eyes. The rapid thumps echoed through the stairwell before slowing again, returning to calm, measured steps.

Closer now.

Then we saw it—a silhouette appeared at the landing. Small. Light on their feet. They paused for a second, then continued down the next flight, completely unaware of the five people waiting at the bottom in silence.

The second their foot hit the tiled floor of our level, we moved.

All five of us emerged at once without needing any order—silent and swift.

"Wh–Who are you?"

That child… he has a core. And it's not Black.

"Alright, child," Renna sighed, casually stepping toward him, "don't make this tedious for us."

His face was barely visible—probably because the only source of light in the hallway was the moonlight coming through windows however I don't think I saw his face clearly even when we observed him on the rooftop earlier, it felt like I just couldn't focus on his face. It seemed... distant? I don't really know how to describe it. But now? Now he was just a scared little kid.

His legs trembled, eyes wide with panic. As Renna approached, he stumbled back, tripping over the edge of the stairs and landing hard on his back.

She reached her hand out to grab his hand, which he seemed to be holding out as if hoping to keep Renna away.

"N–No! Stay away from me!" he whimpered.

And then I saw him try to slap Renna's hand away, and I swear by every god, we were all watching them. Every single one of us. Our attention was locked on Renna and the duke's son.

And then the ceiling came down—at least, that's what it looked like for a second.

"Renna!" Ren's voice cracked with panic as he lunged forward—but stopped short. We all did.

*Splurch.*

*Splash.*

None of us moved.

None of us could even move a muscle from shock.

We didn't understand what we were seeing. It wasn't the ceiling. It was spikes—spikes that had burst from the ceiling out of nowhere. A dozen. Maybe more. They ripped through the air and Renna's body all at once, driving halfway to the floor.

And then—

*Thud*

Something fell.

Not something. Someone.

Renna.

Or whatever was left of her.

Her arms. Her chest. Her skull. All of it… torn. Punctured. Leaking. A mangled silhouette of the person we knew, collapsing from the spikes and hitting the ground in a silent heap.

Blood dripped from the spike. Renna's blood. It pitter-pattered onto the tiles like rain after thunder.

We couldn't look away.

And then—

"Waaahahahaha!!!"

That sound.

Laughter.

The child was laughing. Laughing as if he had just heard the best joke of his life. Hands on his knees, head thrown back, slapping his thighs.

A child.

This child.

"ARGH!!" Ren snapped. He bolted forward from the side, rage controlling every step.

But then—"Bye…"

The child's voice was soft. Too soft for what had just happened. His hand raised slowly—the same motion, the only motion that child did before Renna died.

Ren froze mid-step, instincts kicking in. He jumped back.

"…bye." The child repeated, almost bored now, lowering his arm.

No spikes.

Just him slowly standing up, folding his arms behind his back with an unsettling calm.

That smile.

That tone.

This child… is not normal.

"There are no more traps here, but I'd prefer if you left and didn't touch me."

His voice was cold. Flat. And so utterly infuriating that even I felt the heat crawl up my spine.

But for Ren, it was enough to break him.

"You scoundrel!" he snarled.

This time, there was no holding him back.

He didn't care if it was a lie. He didn't care if spikes came down from the heavens again. He didn't care about anything.

He was beyond listening.

Ren lunged straight toward the boy on the stairs, a blur of fury and grief and raw vengeance. His hand stretched forward, palm open—he wasn't going to knock him down, he was going to crush his face. That much was clear.

"Ren, wait, Watch ou—!"

I didn't get to finish. I tried. I really did. But he was too blinded by his rage to notice anything.

The boy's arm had swept up with an eerie calm, a glowing orb in his palm as if he'd been waiting for this.

*BOOM*

The explosion ripped through the air like a thunderclap made of flame.

The blast hit with such force it shook the entire corridor. Doors rattled violently in their frames. Even the floors above and below us most likely felt it.

I shielded my eyes from the sudden flash of light.

When I looked again, my heart sank.

Smoke filled the hall. The stench of smoke clawed at my lungs. The wall beside the staircase and the stairs were blackened, scorched, and cracked.

Where they had stood… There was chaos.

The spikes that had hung from the ceiling like death itself—gone. No one had noticed them wither.

Renna's body still lay there, crumpled and lifeless. But now her body was also burned.

"Wh–what in the world…" I breathed out, barely hearing my own words.

Ren—blown away, his body a heap on the floor. His cloak was torn, his mask cracked, and blood at his mouth. I didn't even know if he was alive.

And the boy?

The boy was blown back to the landing.

"Fin, go check on the child. Quick."

I gave the order and took a cautious step toward Ren's collapsed form, the acrid scent of smoke still burning in my nose.

No answer came.

Instead, a shove.

Hard. Sudden.

I stumbled forward, barely catching my balance with one foot skidding on blood-slick tile, "Ru–ack!"

The sound behind me froze my blood. A wet, choking gurgle that made my stomach twist.

I turned and met Yuri's eyes. Not the bored, quiet gaze she always wore. These were wide. Unblinking. Empty.

A thin blade jutted from her throat.

Her lips moved like she wanted to say something, but all that came out was more blood, bubbling around the dagger's hilt. Her knees buckle, and the hand that was wrapped around her, holding her, let her go.

She collapsed like a marionette with its strings cut.

I didn't have time to scream. I didn't even have time to blink.

Because the next thing I saw was Fin's head.

It rolled past Yuri's body like it didn't belong there. Eyes still open. Mouth parted. His body slumped behind it, twitching once before stilling.

'What… what is this?'

I couldn't move fast enough. I couldn't breathe fast enough. The hallway had been filled with noise just moments ago. Renna's scream. The explosion. The child's mocking laughter.

But now?

Now it was silent. Too silent. Deathly silent.

I turned to flee—only to find a pair of eyes waiting for me. Gleaming in the moonlight, matching its hue. Cold.

The cold pierced through my skin. Through my spine.

Agitated, I tried to lift my sword desperately. But before thought could become motion, something stopped me.

A sudden warmth bloomed at the base of my neck. It was gentle… comforting… like a long-lost memory brushing against my soul. It seeped into my chest, my limbs. For the first time in decades, I felt… peace.

.

.

.

*Crack*

"No!" My mother's scream echoed like a jagged blade through the night.

I saw it—the boot pressed against my father's skull, and then... it shattered.

And I was already in their grasp, the cloaked figure's hand clamped tight around my throat.

"Please! I beg you! Please let go of my son!"

Her voice trembled as she threw herself at the killer's leg. I still remember the way her fingers gripped the black fabric, her nails breaking, her voice breaking… and then—

Darkness.

The next time I opened my eyes, I was in a cell.

The air was damp, metallic. I could hear sobbing in the distance—quiet, broken, defeated. My body ached. My mind was foggy.

I was a child. Just a boy who once played outside, who came running home to warm meals and a smiling mother. That night, my father had just come home from work. We were setting the table. I still remember the knock at the door.

Then—chaos. Screams. Blood. Neighbors dragged away. And silence.

Now, every day, my mother leaves. And every night, she returned with new bruises she refused to explain to me and kept a smile while cradling me to sleep.

Time passed, but I stopped counting. The world outside was fading for me. All I knew were bars and chains and the sound of tears from every direction.

Until one day, something changed.

There was a pulse. A heat I'd never felt before. My core, I formed it.

For a moment, the beat of hope came alive. The guards looked at me differently. I was no longer just a nameless child.

I was… distinct.

But that feeling didn't last.

*Bam* *Bam* *Bam*

My head slammed into the stone floor again and again, until the pain blurred everything into red.

"Is your head clearer now, or do you need a little more help?" a cold voice asked, oozing amusement.

I didn't answer—I couldn't.

"Listen carefully, boy. This is the last time I'll say it. If you want to see your mother again, you'll obey. No questions. No backtalk. You do what you're told. And if you're useful enough... maybe one day, you'll earn her freedom and your own."

A fist yanked me up by the hair. Her eyes were like frozen steel.

I mouthed a wordless yes. I don't even think a sound came out, but she let go.

I crumpled to the floor like discarded cloth.

"Give the brat a healing potion," she said. "And let him spend the rest of the night with his mother."

They dragged me back to the cell I shared with her. I heard the door open. I felt her arms before I saw her face.

"My baby!" she cried, catching me as they shoved me forward.

She knelt on the floor, her hands trembling as they brushed the blood from my cheeks. Gentle… so gentle, even though she was shaking.

"M…om…"

Her eyes… I remember her eyes. They had lost their shine the day Father died. But every time she looked at me, they glowed again. That light was the only thing that kept me alive. Kept us alive.

"I pro…mise," I whispered, "I'll save you… soon."

Her fingers brushed through my hair. She didn't ask how. She didn't ask when.

She only smiled. My mother's lovely smile was beautiful.

"Then I will wait for you, Jacob."

Her voice was my warmth. Her arms became my home.

I passed out, cradled in her lap, whispering the same promise over and over.

"Mom… I'll free you… I will…"

.

.

.

'Sorry, Mom…' My thoughts drifted as the pain came rushing back, heavy and hot in my neck.

'All this time... and I still couldn't keep my promise.'

The world around me started to blur.

'I haven't seen you even once since then…'

My limbs grew cold.

'I wish you are doing fine… I wish someone saves you…'

My eyes felt heavier.

'I wish… I could see your smile again, Mom.'

I felt the strength leave my body as I felt my body touch the floor.

'I wish… I could lay my head on your lap again, Mom.'

I couldn't see anything, I couldn't feel anything, I was not even able to imagine her face in my last moments… these are my last moments…

'Mom… I don't want to die… all I wanted was… to see you smile freely.'

[A/N]

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