Isaac shifted in his chair, his discomfort evident in every awkward twitch. He tried to focus on the plate of food in front of him—a generous helping of succulent, spice-rubbed chicken, a dollop of creamy macaroni pie, and a small mountain of rice and peas. He speared a piece of chicken with his fork and forced himself to chew whilst pretending to listen to the elven girl beside him. She was chattering enthusiastically, her fingers adorned with rings that glinted as she gestured animatedly, the medallions on her chest jingling with every move.

Isaac could barely hear her over the static in his own head.

Tomoya sat next to him, his brooding presence filling the space like a dark cloud. It wasn't just that Tomoya wasn't speaking; it was the way his eyes glazed over, the occasional flicker of focus that sharpened whenever his gaze landed on Kai across the room. Each time Tomoya looked at Kai and then quickly averted his eyes, it sent a stab of irrational anger through Isaac.

He tried to push it down, gripping his fork tighter and taking another bite of chicken.

"Enjoying the food?" he asked, forcing his tone into something resembling casual.

Tomoya didn't even glance at him, instead prodding the pile of vegetables on his plate with his fork. He bit into a piece of broccoli like it had personally offended him.

Isaac inhaled deeply, trying to quell the rising irritation. He wouldn't deny that some of the things Tomoya had said to him in the past still stung. Pathetic. Useless. The words had stuck to him like burrs, no matter how much Kai or Bayu tried to brush them off.

And the worst part? Tomoya wasn't entirely wrong.

Isaac knew he wasn't the strongest. He wasn't the most skilled in combat, nor did he wield impressive magic. He didn't have Kai's quiet leadership or Bayu's magnetic charisma. All he had were his gadgets—cobbled together in sleepless nights and held together by determination and the faintest spark of ingenuity. But Rupert, that strange recruiter, had seen something in him. Something worth pulling him into the Aetherwing.

Isaac didn't know what it was yet, but he was here. That had to count for something.

He mustered a weak smile and gestured toward Tomoya's plate. "Are you vegetarian?"

Tomoya turned to him, and Isaac instantly regretted speaking. The dark, swirling storm in Tomoya's eyes made his stomach twist.

"Could you shut up?" Tomoya said flatly.

Isaac blinked, stunned by the bluntness.

A thought spiraled into Isaac's mind, sharp and unwelcome. I've worked too hard for this. Too hard to let someone like him—

He straightened in his chair, the fork clattering against his plate. "I don't know who pissed in your plate of vegetables, Tomoya," he said, the words spilling out before he could stop them, "but no matter what you think of me, you don't get to talk to me that way."

Tomoya turned to him then, a slow, cruel smile curving his lips. It wasn't a kind smile—it was a blade wrapped in silk.

"You're right," Tomoya said, his tone low and venomous. "I don't want to talk to you at all."

Isaac spluttered, his face flushing hot, but before he could form a response, Tomoya continued, his voice cutting like glass.

"You're so unbelievably lucky, Isaac." He spat the word lucky like it was poison. "You can barely protect yourself against anything dangerous, but here you are, with two shockingly handsome men shielding you like a precious, fragile doll."

Isaac's gasp caught in his throat, but Tomoya wasn't finished. He leaned in closer, his dark eyes boring into Isaac's.

"I bet you've never had to do anything on your own before." Tomoya's voice dropped lower, almost a whisper, but it dripped with venom. "Poor Isaac, always protected. Always coddled. I'm sure your entire life's been handed to you on a silver platter."

Isaac felt the blood drain from his face, and a deep, simmering heat rise in its place. His grip on the edge of the table tightened, his knuckles white.

This time, he wouldn't let Tomoya's words bury themselves under his skin. Not without a fight.

Isaac took a steadying breath, clenching his fists under the table to keep himself from trembling. The clink of glasses and hum of conversation filled the room around him, but all he could hear was the roar of blood in his ears and Tomoya's voice replaying in his mind like a taunt.

He leaned forward slightly, keeping his voice low enough not to draw attention from the others at the table. "You think you've got me all figured out, don't you?" Isaac's words came out sharper than he intended, but he didn't stop. "You don't know a damn thing about me."

Tomoya's smirk widened, his expression dripping with mockery. "Oh, enlighten me then, genius. What could I possibly not know about you? The elven boy with all the perks but none of the effort?"

Isaac's hand slammed down on the table, rattling his plate and drawing a few curious glances. He didn't care. His freckled cheeks flushed a deep red, more from frustration than embarrassment.

"You're wrong." Isaac's voice shook, but not from fear—it was anger now, bubbling up from a place he rarely let anyone see. "You don't know what it's like to grow up being told you'll never be enough. That no matter what you do, someone else will always be better, stronger, faster. That people will only see what you can't do, not what you can."

Tomoya's mocking smile faltered slightly, but Isaac pressed on, his heart pounding.

"I didn't have a silver platter, okay? I didn't have someone holding my hand every step of the way. Everything I've got, I earned with my own two hands. You might not think my gadgets or my ideas are worth much, but they're mine. And you know what?" Isaac leaned in, his green eyes blazing with uncharacteristic intensity. "I'm not going anywhere. No matter what you think of me."

For a moment, Tomoya said nothing. His dark eyes narrowed slightly, the cruel smirk gone, replaced by something unreadable. He picked up a piece of broccoli, chewing it slowly as if buying time.

"I see," Tomoya said finally, his tone quieter, more subdued. "So you've got some fight in you after all."

Isaac blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in Tomoya's demeanor.

"But let me ask you something, Isaac," Tomoya continued, his voice softer now but no less cutting. "Do you really think your little gadgets and determination are going to save you out there? When the monsters come for us—and they will—do you think they'll care how hard you've worked? Or will you just hide behind Kai and Bayu again?"

The words hit harder than Isaac wanted to admit. He opened his mouth to respond, but the truth was, he didn't know. He didn't have an answer.

Tomoya leaned back in his chair, his gaze flicking to Kai across the room. "You're lucky, Isaac. And it's not because of anything you've done. It's because they're here, willing to fight for you. You should think about that before you start trying to prove something to me."

Before Isaac could muster a reply, Tomoya stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor. Without another word, he strode out of the banquet hall, leaving Isaac sitting there, stunned and furious.

Isaac stared down at his plate, the vibrant Caribbean flavors suddenly tasting like ash in his mouth. He clenched his fists, the sharp bite of Tomoya's words still echoing in his ears.

Across the table, Kai caught his eye, mouthing a silent "You okay?"

Isaac gave a half-hearted shrug, his eyes flicking to Tomoya, whose retreating figure melted into the crowd. Even after everything, Isaac couldn't bring himself to hate him. Tomoya was a labyrinth of contradictions—a brooding, sharp-tongued puzzle of a man who had once, against all odds, saved Isaac's life. That memory clung to him like an ache he couldn't shake, a reminder that beneath the prickly exterior lay something deeper.

Before Isaac could spiral further into thought, a flurry of maids swept in to clear the table, their efficiency almost hypnotic. Plates and goblets disappeared, and soon the tables were pushed back by sturdy-footed servants, creating an open space for mingling. The nymphs' music shifted into an upbeat, cheerful tune that filled the air with a jovial, almost magical atmosphere.

Isaac didn't linger at his seat for long. The moment he saw Kai rise, he instinctively went to his side, his hand trembling as he wrapped it around Kai's arm. The warmth and steadiness of Kai's presence eased some of the turmoil bubbling under Isaac's skin, though not entirely.

"Who are you looking for?" Isaac asked, noting how Kai's sharp amber eyes scanned the bustling room.

"Jabari," Kai said simply, his voice low but sure. "Bayu's trying to convince Mildred to talk to a few more elves."

Isaac followed Kai's gaze, finding Bayu across the hall. He stood tall and confident, his animated gestures contrasting with Mildred's composed, almost icy demeanor. A group of elves lingered nearby, their expressions wary but curious as they watched the two converse.

"Bayu looks like he's holding his own," Isaac said, trying for a light tone.

Kai hummed in agreement but didn't look away from his target. "There."

Isaac's eyes followed Kai's pointed gaze to Jabari, the Chief of the Elves. He was seated at a smaller table near the back, eating a delicate mini cake. A smear of frosting clung to his lips, an amusing juxtaposition to his otherwise formidable presence.

"That's him," Isaac confirmed, and together they strode toward Jabari.

Kai's stride was purposeful, commanding, and as they reached Jabari, he inclined his head in a respectful bow before extending a strong, calloused hand. "Jabari."

Jabari glanced up, his sharp, dark eyes narrowing slightly before recognition softened his expression. He clasped Kai's hand firmly, nodding in acknowledgment. Isaac mimicked Kai's curtsy, feeling a touch awkward but determined to match Kai's composure.

"Are you enjoying the banquet, Jabari?" Kai asked, his tone measured and polite.

Jabari leaned back in his chair, dabbing at the frosting on his lips with a thick linen napkin. "Yes, well, the music and food are all well and good," he replied, his voice gravelly, tinged with weariness. He scratched absently at the elaborate embroidery on his tunic. "But..."

Isaac noted the way Jabari's gaze grew distant, his features clouding over with unspoken concerns. The lightheartedness of the banquet seemed to weigh on him rather than uplift him.

"But you have doubts," Kai prompted gently, his amber eyes steady on the elf.

Jabari's lips pressed into a thin line. He wiped a crumb of frosting from his beard with a hand that looked weathered from years of command. "I won't mince words." Jabari said, his voice low. "This banquet is a fine display of goodwill, but it doesn't erase the tension between my people and the witches. I appreciate the effort, but effort doesn't stop bloodshed."

Isaac swallowed hard, a knot forming in his stomach. Beside him, Kai nodded, his expression steady but thoughtful.

"I understand your concerns," Kai said. His tone was warm, like a soothing balm. "And I don't expect a single banquet to fix everything. But we're taking steps, Jabari. My squadron has been working tirelessly to dispel the black magic in Falmouth, and Bayu is making progress on strengthening the wards."

Jabari's eyes flickered to Bayu, who was still locked in conversation with Mildred and the elves, his animated gestures contrasting with their stony expressions. The elf chief sighed, folding his arms.

"Steps aren't always enough. My son, Maleko, barely escaped a creature in Falmouth last week. If I hadn't been close enough to intervene..." Jabari trailed off, his jaw tightening. "How can I assure my people that the witches aren't behind this when their wards seem to falter at the worst times?"

Isaac hesitated, unsure if he should speak, but the memory of Tomoya's biting words stung fresh in his mind. He squared his shoulders, deciding that now wasn't the time to stay silent.

"With all due respect, Chief Jabari," Isaac began, his voice trembling slightly but growing steadier as he spoke, "it's not just elves who are affected by this. Everyone here has lost something—or someone. And I know it's hard to trust anyone, especially when lives are at stake. But I've seen what Kai and Bayu are capable of. They'll protect your people as if they were their own."

Jabari turned his sharp gaze on Isaac, who suddenly felt very small, but he didn't back down.

"They're not just fighting for the witches," Isaac continued, his green eyes earnest. "They're fighting for everyone on this island. Including you and your son."

For a moment, the silence between them felt heavy, but Kai placed a firm hand on Isaac's shoulder, a small smile tugging at his lips. "What Isaac says is true. We're all in this together, Jabari. If there's any way we can work more closely with your people to keep them safe, we're ready to listen."

Jabari's expression softened, just slightly, though his brows remained furrowed. "You've got conviction, I'll give you that." He looked between the two of them, then sighed. "Very well. I'll be holding you all to your word."

Kai inclined his head in a respectful nod. "You won't regret it."

Suddenly, the ground trembled violently beneath their feet, a low, menacing rumble that seemed to resonate in Isaac's chest. He staggered, gripping Kai's arm like a lifeline. Around them, startled murmurs turned into panicked gasps. Before anyone could process what was happening, the polished floor of the banquet hall cracked with an ear-splitting roar, splinters of wood and shards of tile exploding outward as a monstrous form erupted into the room.

The creature was a grotesque amalgamation of nature and nightmare, its body resembling the gnarled trunk of an ancient tree. Its rough, blackened bark twisted and knotted like veins, and a horrifyingly human-like face was carved into its center. Its hollow eyes glowed with an eerie, molten orange light, and its mouth split open into a jagged maw that oozed dark, viscous sap. Branch-like limbs jutted from its body, sharp and splintered as if they'd been broken in countless battles.

The monster didn't hesitate. One of its massive, bark-covered arms lunged forward, sharp as a spear, and impaled Jabari through the chest.

Blood sprayed in an arc, warm and sickening, splattering across Isaac's face. He stood frozen in shock, his mind failing to process what had just happened. A bloodcurdling scream echoed through the hall. For a moment, Isaac thought it came from his own throat, but then he saw Maleko, Jabari's son, sprinting forward, his scream raw with anguish.

Maleko, who had been charming a British witch moments earlier, reached his father in seconds. He pulled an arrow from the quiver slung over his back and, with a feral precision, plunged it into the creature again and again. The monster writhed, letting out an unearthly screech before collapsing into a pool of thick, black liquid.

"Father!" Maleko cried, dropping to his knees beside Jabari, whose body was crumpled on the blood-slicked floor. Isaac's stomach churned as he watched Jabari clutch weakly at his son's hands, his face pale and strained.

"Maleko..." Jabari's voice was faint, each word labored. "You... are the future... of this island. The Chief... of the Elves." He coughed, blood bubbling at his lips. "I... pass the baton... to you."

Maleko shook his head violently, tears streaming down his face. "No! Don't say that! Please, Father, hold on!"

The hall dissolved into chaos. Screams rose as more cracks appeared in the floor, and blackened, decaying monsters began clawing their way into the room, their gaping mouths dripping with dark magic. Isaac turned to see Kai spring into action, his amber eyes blazing. Flames curled around his fingertips, the telltale sign of dragonfire ready to be unleashed.

"Everyone, get out!" Kai's voice boomed over the pandemonium, his presence commanding. He herded panicked witches and elves toward the exits, his movements fluid and precise, fire streaming from his palms to incinerate the advancing monsters.

On the far side of the hall, Bayu stood as a fierce protector, shielding Mildred and her entourage. He cast icy plumes of blue magic, each strike disintegrating a creature into frozen shards. His hair whipped around his face as his power surged, his expression calm but intense.

Isaac dropped to his knees beside Jabari. Blood pooled beneath the Chief's body, staining Isaac's hands as he tried to help. "Let me get you out of here," he said softly, looking up at Maleko with desperation.

Maleko's head snapped up, his eyes blazing with fury. "DO NOT TOUCH HIM!" he roared, jerking away from Isaac as though his touch burned. "THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!"

Isaac flinched, the accusation cutting deeper than he expected. Maleko scooped up his father with a strength born of desperation and stormed away, blood trailing in his wake.

Isaac bit down hard on his lip, tasting the metallic tang of his own blood. Around him, the chaos only deepened as another creature burst through the wall—a hulking, grotesque mass of ink and rot, its limbs oozing black sludge.

Isaac scrambled for his satchel, his fingers brushing over the smooth, brass casing of one of his inventions—a smoke bomb designed to neutralize black magic. It was a prototype, one he'd poured countless sleepless nights into, tweaking the internal gears and adjusting the alchemical balance of the magic-neutralizing powder inside.

He pulled it free and hurled it with every ounce of strength he had. The device hit the creature dead center, the clockwork mechanism activating on impact. Gears spun with a satisfying whirr, and the bomb exploded in a cloud of shimmering, gray smoke. The creature let out a gurgling shriek, its inky body dissolving into nothingness.

A jolt of adrenaline shot through Isaac. His gadget worked. It worked!

But his moment of triumph was short-lived. Another monster lunged toward a group of maids who stood paralyzed with terror, their faces pale and their limbs frozen. Isaac didn't think—he pulled another smoke bomb from his satchel and threw it, the detonation filling the air with a hiss and a burst of smoke. The monster disintegrated, but two more appeared in its place.

Isaac kept throwing bomb after bomb, his hands moving frantically as he fought to keep the creatures at bay. His heart pounded in his chest, his breaths ragged. Each time one of his gadgets worked, he felt a flicker of hope, but the monsters kept coming, relentless and unending.

Somewhere in the chaos, he caught a glimpse of Kai, flames roaring around him as he fought to clear the hall. Bayu's icy magic crackled across the room, and Maleko's cries echoed like a haunting refrain.

Isaac's heart thundered in his chest as his hands scrambled through his satchel, each pocket turning up empty. His stomach sank. No more smoke bombs. Panic clawed at his throat as another monster materialized from the ceiling, its grotesque, inky form oozing black rot that dripped like tar. It snarled, its maw a jagged pit of darkness, and locked its eyeless gaze on him.

The creature lunged, its hulking body barreling downward with terrifying speed. Isaac froze, his fingers clenched around the useless leather strap of his satchel. For a moment, he felt utterly defeated. His eyes squeezed shut, bracing for the inevitable impact.

Then, with a sound like rushing leaves and a sudden, clean gust of air, the suffocating presence vanished.

Isaac cracked one eye open, then the other, blinking in disbelief. The monster was gone, its black, rotting form dissipated into nothingness. Around the hall, a powerful, refreshing wind swirled, blowing away the dark haze left by the creatures.

Standing at the center of the chaos was Lukas, Commander of Squad 9. His tall frame exuded an effortless control, and his outstretched fingers danced with faint, glowing currents of air. He looked as though he had stepped straight out of a painting—pristine, immaculate, untouched by the blood or black sludge that coated everyone else in the room.

Isaac finally remembered what he'd read about sylphs, the air elementals. They were masters of commanding the wind, their power elegant and efficient. Lukas was a living testament to that, the gusts rolling from his fingertips both devastating and precise.

Behind him stood the rest of Squad 9, their faces calm and unreadable, like marble statues in the midst of carnage. Their stillness was a stark contrast to the chaos that had engulfed the hall only moments ago.

Isaac's gaze darted to the room's survivors. Most of the banquet's attendees had been evacuated, herded out by Kai and Bayu in the heat of battle. Maleko and his father, Jabari, had been carefully carried away by one of Squad 9's recruits. The hall itself was nearly empty now, save for the wreckage of shattered tiles, overturned tables, and blackened streaks where the monsters had perished.

Kai stood nearby, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. His hands and arms were slick with black sludge and blood, a mix of the monsters' remains and his own injuries. Bayu was no better, his usually composed demeanour replaced by a grim, furious intensity. Both of them bore the marks of their fierce defense, their uniforms tattered and stained.

Isaac's eyes flicked back to Lukas as the sylph commander lowered his hands. His sharp, pale gaze scanned the destruction with the cool detachment of someone accustomed to chaos. Then he crossed his arms over his chest, his expression turning forbidding as he exchanged a few quiet words in Polish with one of his recruits.

When Lukas turned to face Kai, the air in the room seemed to chill despite his elemental affinity. "I've been informed," he said, his voice low and deliberate, "that Jabari is dead."

The words hit like a hammer.

Lukas raised a hand and pointed a single, unyielding finger at Kai. "That is the result of your banquet."

The accusation landed heavily, the air seeming to thicken with tension.

Bayu's face darkened, his anger flaring. "The banquet was my idea," he snapped, stepping forward. "You can't blame him for this."

Lukas didn't so much as blink. His gaze remained locked on Kai, sharp and unrelenting. "As their leader," he said evenly, "you made the decision to proceed. And it has failed." He dropped his arm, his stance authoritative. "We will come to your airship in two days to discuss the next steps."

Without waiting for a reply, Lukas turned sharply, his coat swirling in the gust of wind that followed him. His squad fell into formation behind him, their movements precise and synchronized. With a final, blustery flourish, they exited the hall, leaving behind a silence that felt louder than the chaos before.

Isaac swallowed hard, fighting the urge to collapse to his knees. His legs felt like jelly, and his head spun with the weight of everything that had just happened. Steeling himself, he pushed forward, making his way to Kai, whose face had gone utterly blank.

"Are you guys okay?" Isaac asked, his voice trembling despite his best efforts.

Kai didn't respond, his amber eyes distant and unreadable. Bayu, however, turned toward Isaac with a storm in his expression. "No," Bayu said, his voice low and sharp. His fists clenched at his sides. "Where on earth is Tomoya?"

The question jolted Isaac. His mouth opened, but no sound came out. He looked between Kai and Bayu in mirrored shock.

Where was Tomoya?