If Namjoon insulted her one more time, Two was going to break.

It took her hours—hours of precious time to chase Jimin down with a delirious Taehyung tagging along as dead weight and to hurry to the inn without commenting on Jimin's wary glances. And, of course, the first thing Namjoon did was voice Jimin's unspoken thoughts, suspecting Two of doing something to Taehyung.

She didn't give a shit about Taehyung. What she cared about were the two assassins about to reach Nero before her and break the news that Lucius had died. By her hand. Didn't these fools understand that, if this happened, all their efforts, struggles, and sacrifices would be useless?

Apparently not.

"How did he end up like this?" Namjoon asked, pointing an accusing finger at Taehyung's prone body sprawled across the bed. "When he left the inn, he was perfectly fine."

Everyone was crammed into Jimin's room, either worried about Taehyung or about the fact that Darius and Meskit were roaming Medeia. If Two wasn't so incensed with Namjoon, she would have noticed Jungkook trying to get her attention with various winces and gestures. Unfortunately, she was occupied with curbing the impulse to break Namjoon's nose.

"He came to me already delirious," Two replied. "I dragged him back here. If I wanted to kill him, I would have hidden him in the darkest alley."

Namjoon squinted. "Are you mocking me?"

"You are the one treating me like a rampant beast. I should be asking you that!"

As they fell into petty quarreling, Jin clicked his tongue from his seat across the room. The afternoon light filtered through the cracked blinds in the shape of thin, rectangular bars, illuminating the floating dust and shining on the new cobwebs dirtying the room's corners. The only sounds were rising voices and Taehyung's occasional whimper until Jin stood, his chair scraping against the floorboards.

"Rather than arguing whose fault this is," Jin shouted over them, exhaling through his nose as he stared at Hoseok and Jimin tending to Taehyung, "shouldn't we focus on the two assassins after us?"

The arguments ceased. Hoseok and Jimin continued in their efforts to cool Taehyung's burning skin with their water and air elements. Jungkook shifted on his feet in the corner while Yoongi observed the situation as if he wasn't even in the room. Two and Namjoon shut their mouths, sharing a promised glare. This wasn't over.

"What do you propose we do?" Namjoon asked at length. His voice was strained, and irritation was plain in the sideways glance he sent Two's way.

The silence thickened around them like a heavy haze, almost making it more difficult to breathe. Before Two could even open her mouth, Jungkook, scratching the back of his head, his eyes trained on the ground, said, "Perhaps we should visit Nero Daryxias. You did say you found his underground pub, yes, Two?"

Two nodded. "I am sure of it."

Namjoon opened his mouth but closed it, opting to slouch against the wall instead.

"Are you sure he is willing to help you?" Jimin asked from beside Taehyung, water sploshing in his hand in an amorphous, ever-shifting orb.

"If I have a good reason, he will be willing." Two swept her eyes over all the princes, taking them in as much as they did her. "That is where one of you comes in."

Jimin raised a brow. "How so?"

"One of you will accompany me to Nero's establishment acting as a client."

Disdain filled the air faster than lightning, striking with confusion and landing with blooming wrath. Namjoon shifted in place, peering at Two. An accusatory grin twitched at the corner of his lips—probably because he thought his suspicions were correct. Two was a fool to realize only now how unusual her proposition was.

To them, it looked like a scheme to divide and conquer.

Two raised her hands placatingly, quickly adding, "That is not what I meant to insinuate."

Namjoon shrugged, feigning bewilderment, that grin still tugging on his lips. "I do not know what you mean. We haven't said a word."

"Your expression speaks louder than your voice ever could," Two snapped. Namjoon did not rise to the bait, and most of the princes eyed her with doubt. Damning their opinion, she continued. "I don't care if you think I have ulterior motives. If you want to find your rift, one of you needs to help me. Although, not all of you are qualified to."

Two didn't know how much she wanted to risk another Lucius-Jungkook situation. For all she knew, one of the princes could be a secret, long-lost brother of Nero's. It was highly improbable, but every precaution to prevent another Lucius-esque encounter was worth it.

She studied each prince one by one, skipping over Jungkook. Taehyung was out of the picture, and she cut Jimin and Hoseok out, too, since Nero most likely knew all the princes of the nearby kingdoms. That left her with Yoongi, Namjoon, and Jin.

Yoongi was. . . Two refused to work with him. His fire element was volatile, and his demeanor radiated hostility. At first sight of him, Nero might feel something was wrong.

Namjoon was a mind elemental. That made him stand out all the more, and cooperating with him would be a pain because of their ongoing conflict.

As for Jin, he was a human. Two paused. She considered him again more thoughtfully—his inconspicuous linen tunic, his commonplace appearance, his more often than not genial nature, his being a human. Not an elemental, but a human. He was also a Vitan. The Dark Lotus had accepted many Vitan clients in the past. . . But Jin's face could be identifiable. An idea slowly came to Two like soft waves to a shore. She smiled.

"Prince Jimin, how fast can you find a stall selling a mask?" Two asked. Everyone perked up at her words, Jimin most of all. When he did not respond, she added, "Any mask. Nothing fancy."

Finally, Jimin's eyes brightened with understanding before darkening again with suspicion. "Not long."

"Good," Two said, looking at Jin, who cocked his head in return, "because I have a plan."

* * *

Jin had to admit that this was not how he envisioned the start of his morning.

The ceramic mask was set uncomfortably on his face, and his new attire was constricting to say the least. Two had explained that it would make him indiscernible from the other Umbrans, but Jin thought it produced the opposite effect. Dressed as a person of significance, he attracted eyes like honey lured bees. People walking on the streets halted to spare a peek at Jin, and sweat prickled under his cravat because of the attention.

Striding next to Two and matching her pace, Jin leaned in and whispered, "Are you sure this is a good idea? People can't take their eyes off me."

A sniff. Then—"Just act normal."

Jin chuckled. "Trust me. I know what I am doing. I just wish I didn't charm everyone I pass."

Falling back, Jin sifted through the faces in the crowds for the hundredth time and released a relieved breath when he couldn't find Darius or Meskit. Even now, he couldn't help the mild panic that shot up his spine at the thought of running into them. He was unarmed—they had agreed back at the inn to leave the heavy work to Two—and the absence of the familiar weight of his bow and quiver made him feel vulnerable, naked even.

He was only a human, after all. The reminder almost made him frown.

When he tired of kindly inclining his head at passing faces, he again caught up with Two, clasping his hands behind his back to add some authenticity to his performance.

"How long until we reach that underground pub of yours?" Jin asked, his fake smile unwavering.

"Not long, only another stretch up this hill."

Jin looked around the street. It was becoming a habit, making him feel like hunted prey—exactly like life at Vita. Tilting his head towards Two, he said, "I apologize if this comes off as prying, but are there any weaknesses I should know? If we do happen to confront Darius and Meskit, I think it is in both of our interests for me to know something about them. I may not have a weapon, but the knowledge would help, nevertheless."

"They don't have any weaknesses."

Jin furrowed his brow. "Everyone has a weakness. It can be as simple as an aversion to flowers. I just need something to work with."

"They don't have any weaknesses," Two repeated. This time, she faced Jin, her expression grave. "For as long as I remember, Darius did not care for anything or anyone, not even himself. You could say that Meskit's weakness is Darius since she would sacrifice herself to protect him, but Darius is too powerful to exploit."

"Does Darius care for Meskit? They did work well together last time I saw them."

"Did Darius care for the other strays he snatched from the streets?"

Jin didn't need to shake his head. He could vividly recall the blood splattering on his side after Darius had smashed the heads of the bandits they were holding hostage. The image was similar to the massacre Jin had seen that day he killed a rogue demon in the Vitan castle. It made his stomach churn.

"He doesn't see any of them as human," Two said. "If anything, he sees them as toys to use and throw away once broken."

"Then I hope we don't meet them any time soon," Jin murmured, stopping himself when he felt the impulse to scan the area. "How about Nero? What are his weaknesses? If he becomes hostile, I don't want to stand around like a lost puppy."

Jin followed Two as she rounded a corner. The streets were becoming narrower, and the crowds slowly thinned with every step they took. When Two halted in her tracks, Jin came to a steady rest.

"In the best scenario, Nero will not attack us, but if the worst comes to worst, then we run away as fast as we can because he can kill us with a single glance."

The smile forming on Jin's mouth faded when he realized Two wasn't joking. Surely, she must be overreacting, but her expression planted seeds of apprehension and watered them into thorny vines wrapping around Jin's heart, imbuing an uneasiness almost innate to him.

"Is he an elemental?"

"He has a shadow element. And gravity."

Before Jin fell into a pit of panic, he asked, "Any weaknesses? Fears? Flaws?"

Two worried her bottom lip, peeking at Jin from the corner of her eye. "The only flaw I know of is that he cannot pinpoint attacks with his gravity element."

"Which means. . . ?"

"If he uses his magic to squeeze us to death, he cannot control how much force he uses on a particular person. In short, if we piss him off, we both die. If someone else pisses him off and he loses his temper, which is out of character for him, we all die."

Jin's attempt at a light-hearted laugh failed and cut into a dry cough. "If that is the case, what made you think this was reasonable?"

Two winced. "In the past, his generosity often made him susceptible to persuasion. Gullible, if you will."

An incredulous sound left Jin's lips. "Let's hope he has not changed much since you last met him."

"Yes, let's hope," Two muttered as she raised a hand and pointed to a building near the end of the street. It was one that immediately stood out because of its underground stairwell, from which men and women from all walks of life emerged, smiling and frowning in differing degrees of amusement. None of them, unsurprisingly, donned a mask of any kind.

Jin felt ridiculous, but when did he ever not?

"Here, take this," Two said, handing Jin what looked to be a sealed letter. The sunlight danced on the wax seal like tides of the ocean, shining brighter on the edges while forgetting to show the same attention to the finer pressed areas. The center showcased the elegant petals of a lotus. "Don't say a single word once we enter the establishment. If anyone talks to you, pretend they are so inferior that you take offense at being in the same room as them. Don't take off your mask, even if Nero is the one who demands you to remove it, and no matter what happens, do not break the act unless I specifically tell you to run. Understand?"

Jin quirked a brow. "I'm not an idiot," he said, snatching the letter from Two's grip and strutting towards the underground stairwell with a practiced enthusiasm. "All I need to do is show them this letter, right?"

Two nodded, and that was all Jin needed before he closed the distance between him and the stairwell, parading past passersby and raising his chin towards the heavens as if everyone were creatures below him.

The people nearby the entrance of the stairwell glared at him from under their hoods, puffing out smoke that swirled in the air like living strokes of a smooth brush. Jin flashed them a toothy grin before descending the stairs, listening to the heavy metal clang each step he took.

At the bottom, there was a metal door twice his size, and under the doorsill was a sliver of open space tall enough to fit the tip of his foot. As he knocked, a gentle draft of wind kissed his exposed ankles. Not moments later, a small metal slot in the door slid open, similar to the one at Medeia's front gate. One gray eye stared back at Jin. He raised his letter, taking extra care to show the lotus on the wax seal before Two did the same. After that, the slot closed. And the door groaned open.

Behind it lay only eerie darkness. The doorkeeper was absent. Jin took a cautious step, feeling the air become cooler the moment he entered the threshold, and flinched when the door shut behind him.

"Welcome," a low voice drawled, "and enjoy your stay."

A hand settled on Jin's shoulder, guiding him towards another exit. After brushing through a strip door, he found himself standing in a pub lit with colorful lights blurred by smoke. Whispers of patrons sounded from distant tables as their glasses clinked and their pipes blazed a yellow-red. Other people in private rooms wearing dapper suits and dresses engaged in lively conversations, but their voices were muffled behind thick glass. Jin dared to glance back and saw that gray eye staring at him through the swaying strips of the door. A chill pricked his skin.

"Let's go," Two said, and Jin followed without hesitation.

The pub was rather. . . interesting. The farther Two led Jin, the more reserved the areas became. They passed countless closed doors—locked for all Jin could tell—until they couldn't hear a single noise from the parlor. The few people they crossed did not spare them any attention, too interested in drinking and smoking what Jin smelled were herbs—Vitan herbs. The first time he caught a whiff of espersia, a plant used to soothe pain, he was astounded and, for once, thankful his mask covered most of his face. It was sacrilege to treat those herbs like that, but Jin just gritted his teeth and barreled onward.

"Do you know where we are going?" he asked, lowering his voice unconsciously even though no one was around. An obscene groan resounded behind one of the closed doors, and Jin cringed. "We have been aimlessly walking for quite a while now."

"We have," Two agreed.

"And do you know what you are doing?"

A heartbeat of silence. A light sigh. "I'm walking towards areas with the least smoke."

"So Nero doesn't smoke, even though he endorses"—Jin scrunched his nose at the haunting scent of scorched espersia burning his nostrils—"peculiar practices in his pub."

"It attracts people who desire a new experience. Usually, they have a few spare coins in their pockets, as well. It makes for a lucrative business."

Jin huffed out a reluctant noise of agreement.

"Does that bother you?" Two asked with a smirk. When Jin remained silent, a grin split on her lips. "Don't let Nero notice. He may use it to goad you."

"I am not easily goaded," Jin retorted.

Two's grin only widened. "Nero is not easily ignored when he fishes for his desired responses. That said, be careful when we find him. He'll have questions, and I won't be able to redirect all of them."

It wasn't long before they stood in front of a black door that looked like the most ordinary thing Jin had seen in the pub thus far. It was almost forgettable if not for the lotus carved into it. The lotuses on Jin's letter and the door were slightly different, but he ascribed that to Two improvising with whatever she could steal from the markets.

"Well, do I knock, or will you take that privilege?" Jin asked, glad his voice did not give away the anticipation racing through his blood.

With a bated breath, Two knocked twice. When nothing happened, she did it again.

A muffled sound came from behind the door, a groan. "Sir Barnan, I already told you that I have taken note of whom you saw. I am currently working, so I will pay you the funds for a new can later if you do not mind. I will even give you more than usual, so you can afford something a bit more proper. Just return to your post, and I will summon you when needed."

"And if I am not this Sir Barnan?" Two asked.

There was a long pause. Not a single sound came from inside before a man opened the door. His raven hair was combed to one side, almost translucent under the lighting, and his irises shifted from slate gray to jet black. Shadows highlighted the bags under his eyes and the smart suit he wore while contrasting with his pale complexion, which made him look extremely ill. One ear cuff was wrapped around the helix of his ear, glinting red with rubies.

"Two?" Nero said, squinting his eyes as if he couldn't believe what he saw. "What are you doing here?" He locked eyes with Jin. "And who is your masked friend?"

"He is a client, and he needs your help."

The confusion faded, and understanding filled the space it left behind. Silently, hesitatingly, Nero stepped to the side. As they entered, his piercing gaze stayed on the back of Jin's neck and did not leave even after Jin stood at the center of the room. His body was heavier than usual, as if he were being weighed down, and his bones tensed.

After making himself comfortable in his chair, Nero looked up from his desk, but the combination of suspense, pressure, and fear made it feel like he was looking down from a throne. Studying Jin, he played with his nails and tapped his fingers against his cheek.

"So, what is it that you need?"

Two stepped forward. "We need your help finding a rift."

Nero hummed, half in interest, half in amusement. He was not smiling. "I asked the client."

"And I answered for him." Two crossed her arms. "Did you forget how we operate?"

"I have been in exile for the longest time." As those words left his mouth, something sparked in the depths of his black eyes. "Forgive me."

Two straightened her posture, an anxious air about her. "As I was saying—"

"But I need more information about your client before considering whether I should help you," Nero cut in, and Two went rigid. The fingers tapping his cheeks seized, and a kind smile grazed his lips. "Only, of course, if you do not mind, Lord. . . ?"

"Sharyn," Jin finished, saying the first name that came to mind. Two's gaze rained steel daggers on him. "Lord Sharyn."

"And you are a Vitan?"

"Yes."

Nero whistled. "That is a powerful name you have behind you. Tell me, what do you think about my establishment?"

Jin didn't know what Nero wanted, but he knew he was playing a game. And Nero was in complete control. "It's lovely and fascinating."

"What parts were lovely and fascinating?"

"The patrons. The lighting. The locale."

Nero rested his chin in his hand. "And what is your opinion of the products?"

Jin couldn't stop the slight jerk of his neck. "I didn't try any."

Nero tapped his fingers on his chin before abruptly searching through a drawer and pulling out a pipe. Jin remained expressionless even as Nero struck a match and charred the top of—Jin licked his dried lips—the espersia.

Two was stiff where she stood. She cleared her throat, but Nero didn't get the message. He took a drag of espersia and blew the smoke in Jin's direction. Raising his brows inquiringly, he offered Jin the pipe. Jin declined, but that didn't deter Nero from taking another puff.

Smoke quickly filled the small room, smelling sickeningly sweet and leaving an unpleasant burn in Jin's throat. The ends of his patience sizzled, but this was not so different from politics in Vita. He could handle it.

"Lord Sharyn of Vita, whatever do you want with a rift?"

"What he wants to do with it is none of your concern," Two said. "All he needs to know is if you can tell him where one is."

Nero smoked and laughed, gray vapor swirling around him. He walked over to Jin, drawing another pull and exhaling on Jin's face. Jin didn't move, and Nero smiled, his teeth a dashing white in the gloom.

"Nero," Two warned.

Nero gesticulated with the pipe, unconsciously moving it in circles, drawing rings with imprecise lines. "I am merely playing. You appear at my door unannounced, do not start with a greeting but with a demand, and expect me to help you without probing more into the purpose of your visit. It is not uncommon for clients to personally seek aid, but calling it common is foolish, especially with you, Two."

If Two was unnerved, her face did not reveal it, but her quivering fingers did. "All we need is your help, and then we will be on our way."

"That is what you said seven years ago, yet here you are."

Nero took another drag, and Jin's body grew heavier, leaden. He could barely curl a finger, and from the looks of it, Two was facing the same predicament. Through the thickening smoke, Nero's eyes flashed gray.

"I do not take kindly to being lied to, Two," Nero said, setting the pipe down and leaning against his desk. He crossed his arms, tilted his head back, and breathed. "Lord Sharyn of Vita. . . The last I checked, General Sharyn's sons were no older than nine. That was three years ago, so that means you are twelve. So, twelve-year-old Lord Sharyn of Vita, did your mother read you a bedtime story that made you curious? Is that why you have come to Umbra with an assassin in tow?"

Jin could not answer. The pressure keeping him in place spread to his chest, his lungs, his throat. He was struggling to breathe.

Nero clicked his tongue. "Who are you? Take off your mask."

Jin couldn't even if he wanted to. All he could do was tremble in place. Two managed to take a step forward, but her legs violently shook as if she was about to collapse. Like Jin, she could not speak. Only gasps and chokes came out in the place of words.

"Remove your mask, Lord Sharyn," Nero ordered. "Let me see who you are."

The mask on Jin's face cracked, a splinter straight down the middle. As stress marks spiderwebbed across the ceramic, some chips of glass-like clay fell and floated in midair, while others dug their way into Jin's cheeks. Mustering all the strength in his arm, Jin raised his hand slowly but surely. His muscles bulged, fought against the force holding him in place. Another fissure split across the mask like a river through a canyon, and more shards tore into his skin.

At last, Jin grabbed what remained of the mask and hurled it at Nero, who raised a hand and stopped it before it hit him. The mask contorted, stretching and twisting impossibly before exploding into a cloud of sparkling dust.

Breath wavering, Jin panted, then flinched when Nero suddenly curled his fist to yank out the shards embedded in him. Nero procured a handkerchief from his inner pocket and dabbed at the thin rivulets of blood streaming down Jin's face. Using his thumb and forefinger, he clutched Jin's chin and studied him.

"Prince Seokjin of Vita," Nero mused, releasing Jin. He stalked back to his chair and sat, his fingers, once again, tapping against his cheek. "What a surprise."

The invisible force squeezing Jin vanished, and it required all that was left of his willpower to stay standing, to not succumb to the temptation to fall to his knees and soothe his aching legs.

"Yes," Jin said, winded. "I am Kim Seokjin of Vita. Do you plan to genuflect?"

Nero scoffed in good humor while Two braced a hand atop his desk, her shoulders shaking with each breath she took.

"Bastard," she muttered, her red eyes howling with rage.

"You are still alive," Nero said, brushing off Two's death glare. "You wanted to know if I could help you find a rift?"

Two huffed once—twice—before backing away. She nodded.

"Why?" Nero asked, his voice barely above a whisper yet the loudest he has spoken thus far. "What do you want to do with a rift?"

"Don't ask questions, Nero. Just tell us what you know."

Nero frowned. "You are not in a position to ask for demands."

"I am asking for a favor."

Nero's eyes wandered to Jin. "And what does the Prince of Vita have to do with this?"

"He is a client," Two explained. "A slight deviation from the norm, but a client in his own right."

Nero sighed in consideration, his eyes trailing up and down Jin, who brought himself to his full height. A challenge, but Nero did not accept it. All he did was wave his hand. "I will help you if the prince leaves the room."

Two and Jin shared an uncertain glance. This was not what they had planned, and no part of Two's expression showed that this was arranged between Nero and her.

"He stays," Two said.

Nero shook his head and ran a hand through his hair, ruffling it a bit. His ear cuff glinted as he stood and paced to the other side of the room. When he turned around, he held a letter in his hand. On the wax seal was a lotus more refined and accentuated than the one on Jin's letter. Two blanched, her breath hitching in her throat.

"Once the prince leaves, I will help you after you help me," Nero said.

An uneasiness filled the room, intangible yet denser than the smoke. Two shuffled her feet, and her eyes darted back and forth. This was the most nervous Jin had ever seen her, and it perturbed him. Whatever was in that letter was not something for his eyes, so without further delay, he twirled on his heels and left, resting the flat of his back against the door after closing it.

Everything had gone to shit, but if there was even a sliver of hope that Two could fix this, then Jin was willing to accept the risk. He wasn't sure Two shared his sentiments, but he didn't care because, as far as he could tell, they were in this situation because of her. Darius, Meskit, and Nero were her assassin friends, after all.

Time seemed to drag as it did under stress. It was quiet behind the door, so the only sound thrumming in Jin's ears was the pounding of his heart, an incessant thud-thud-thudding that did nothing to ease his nerves.

Any second, he prepared for Nero to burst out of the room and kill him, looking at Jin with that composed look on his face as he did. So when the door finally opened, Jin jumped away, his body tense with adrenaline. But when he saw Two as pale as death itself, her fingers wrapped around a rolled-up parchment, he exhaled in relief.

"What happened?" Jin followed Two when she immediately strode into the halls, her pace fast and unrelenting.

"We came to an agreement."

They traced their steps back to the entrance through the countless corridors of rooms, and smoke, and colorful lights. Even though Jin didn't have his mask, no one spared them a single peek, and soon, they made it to the parlor and found the doorkeeper, who was still as mysterious and curt with his words as the last time they had seen him. Without question, he opened the metal door.

Inhaling the fresh air and basking in the natural sunlight felt as wonderful as waking from a hellish nightmare. Stress ebbed away, flowing down a river to never return as Jin covered his face with both hands and groaned. He was sure at least ten years of his life were shaved away from what had just happened with Nero.

"We're not done yet," Two mumbled, nervously tapping her foot. Sweat doused her temples, dampening the loose strands of her hair. "We still have to return to the inn." She paused before adding, "And discuss our next course of action."

Jin's head already throbbed, thinking about all the yelling and shouting he would have to endure. "We are alive. Can we not celebrate our success?"

Two just clicked her tongue and ascended the stairs. Smiling wryly, Jin followed shortly after. The light and the crisp winter winds grew stronger and stronger until he was only a few steps away from the surface. He was right there, an inch from reaching it, when a shadow towered over him.

He became cold. Goosebumps prickled over his skin, chasing the invisible trail the claws of fear left in their wake. Another shadow joined, taller, higher, broader, but it wasn't until Jin heard a raspy voice say, "Well, I'll be damned," that his mind caught up with his body and understood how quickly their fickle fate had flipped.

Darius Van Deene and Meskit blocked the exit, standing there with all the glory of a predator marking down its prey. The image was familiar—one engraved in Jin's head, branded forever as two figures sneering down at him for eternity.

But Meskit and Darius were not sneering. They were not mocking, or laughing, or smiling. Instead, they were still like a tiger ready to pounce and quiet like the dawn of a peaceful sunrise. More than ever before, Jin felt the missing weight of his bow and quiver punch him in the gut.

"Darius, Meskit," Two breathed, already retreating slowly down the stairs, "I didn't expect to meet you here."

"I didn't expect you to be alive," Darius said, chewing his bottom lip. "And reunited with the princes at that. You're one hard girl to kill."

Metal shards flew out from within Darius's sleeves as he drew a metal rod from his belt. When Darius whistled, the manacles on Two's wrists vibrated with power, answering the call of his tune.

"I just can't believe our luck," Darius drawled, joy coloring the end of his voice. "I found little ol' Nero's hiding spot and Lucius's dog. Step back, Meskit, and enjoy the show. Today's the day we solidify our victory over Heracroix."

It happened in a heartbeat. The metal shards raced towards them, and as Jin raised his arms to defend himself, he tried to calculate how long it would take to run back towards the door and hide behind it—never mind the fact that the doorkeeper wouldn't open it unless Jin showed him the wax seal. In his rumination, he thought he heard the door open, footsteps approaching from behind, but Jin knew that was all a delusion because the metal shards were right there, ready to puncture his skin, and—

—and the shards never reached him. What came was a familiar force weighing him down but more intense. His body felt like it was being crushed in the meaty grasp of a giant, like his skin couldn't contain his entire being. He couldn't move, couldn't breathe, and pain lanced through his body in intervals as if thousands of hammers were beating away at his muscles. If this continued, he was confident that blood would spill out of his mouth. Perhaps even his organs and bones would burst from within his skin.

He cannot pinpoint attacks with his gravity element, Two had said. This must have been what she meant—the pain, the pressure, everything everywhere, all at once.

Footsteps leisurely climbed the stairs from behind until Nero Daryxias appeared from the darkness like a snake from its den. In his hand was the ceramic mask that had disintegrated in his room, reverted to its original state. He brushed past Jin's shoulder to face Darius, who was as still as a statue, a grin wide on his lips.

"You finally expose yourself," Darius said. The metal shards were still hovering around them, but with each step Nero took, they retreated an inch. Darius didn't seem to mind. "How's it been, old friend?"

"Release my guests this instant, Darius." An aura of self-control radiated from Nero, but underneath it was a storm shaking with fervor—uncontrollable and untamed. Somewhere between the room and the stairwell, Nero's demeanor had shifted. Something deep in his soul had become wild and feral, chained only by an impassive expression breaking at the seams.

Darius's grin faded. "I think it is you who should back down. At this rate, you will be the one who kills your guests before I even have the chance to touch them."

The metal shards began to tremble. Darius and Nero did not break eye contact.

"Darius," Nero said, the whites of his eyes red, "do listen when I ask nicely."

Jin had felt fear many, many times before—when Novas and Cardien taunted him, when he saw the massacre left in the demon's wake, when he felt the blood splatter from the exploding heads of their captives. That fear was logical. But the fear he felt now—looking at Nero and Darius facing each other in a deadlock—was primal. Every fiber of his living being was screaming at the top of its lungs to sprint the other way and never turn back.

Unfortunately, Jin was trapped in place.

Nero and Darius continued to stare and stare and stare, neither committing to a tactical retreat or attack. Nothing happened until Meskit abruptly dropped to her knees, blood leaking down her chin. Jin thought he saw the muscles in Darius's jaw clench, but he was in too much pain to rely on his sight.

"Nero, let her go," Darius said, his voice dangerously low.

Nero's entire body shook, but Jin couldn't tell if it was with fury or restraint. "Release my guests first."

Meskit shuddered and coughed up more blood, her eyes rolling into the back of her head. Crimson fury danced in Darius's black eyes, and then a rogue shard zipped towards Nero and grazed his ear. Blood dripped to the ground, and his ear cuff landed in the small puddle already forming.

"Let Meskit go," Darius demanded.

All Nero did was silently lift his open palm, the sunlight bouncing off his smooth skin as he closed his fist. Meskit screamed, writhing and flailing, and Darius immediately swung his metal rod, transforming it into an ax. Before he could chop Nero's head off, though, he halted. Tremors quaked through his arm as his knuckles blanched and his veins popped.

A quiet laugh reverberated through the stairwell, increasing in volume and intensity until Nero glared at Darius with one eye from under the fringe of his hair.

"Are you afraid, Darius?" he asked with a smile. If no one was watching before, Jin was sure there were crowds gathered outside now. Meskit fell over, convulsions washing through her in waves. It only made Nero smile more wickedly. "You know I will kill her. Are you willing to let your protege die so shamefully?"

In his struggle, Darius brought the ax closer to Nero's neck. Nero was unfazed. Meskit stopped moving.

Jin was losing consciousness, his body begging for air and a swift end to the unbearable pain. The strength in his legs dissipated, and he sank to his knees. Beside him, Two still stood, stretching a shaky hand towards him.

Jin thought he knew the extent of an elemental's power. He had witnessed Novas and Cardien wield magic as adeptly as a swordsman did a blade, had watched healers mend the broken and heal the incurable. But Nero and Darius were on another level, and it scared Jin unlike anything else ever before.

The sun was too bright in his eyes, the wind too frigid on his skin. Just as he felt his body tip over, Darius's ax clattered against the stairs and bounced down the rest of the way. The metal shards retreated into Darius's sleeves, and the force holding Jin ceased to exist.

Jin sputtered for air on his hands and knees, strings of drool leaking out of his parted lips. Darius and Nero seemed to have agreed to a ceasefire. While Darius helped Meskit to her feet, Nero watched, putting his hands in his pockets.

As Jin wiped his mouth, Two offered him a hand. He grabbed it and noticed that the manacles were gone.

"Wait for me inside," Nero said, gesturing for Darius to enter the pub.

Carrying Meskit, Darius awkwardly passed without a sound, but he still glared at them from the corners of his eyes. Only after he disappeared behind the metal door did Jin slump against the wall, completely worn out.

"They will come back for me," Two said, panting, staring at Nero pleadingly. "Just because you fended them off today doesn't mean they won't try again soon."

Nero cocked his head, his eyes trained on the closed metal door. "I will deal with them. But do note that this only increases the weight of that favor you owe me."

Jin glanced at Nero and Two before looking away. It was none of his business. As he tried to find something to distract himself with, his eyes landed on the ear cuff still resting in a pool of blood.

"Thank you, Nero," Two said before dragging her feet the rest of the way up the stairs. "Come on, Prince Seokjin. We don't have all day."

Unconsciously, Jin reached for the ear cuff, but before he touched it, Nero seized his wrist in a vice-like grip. Wrath brimmed in Nero's expression, that underlying storm finally spilling through the cracks of his self-discipline.

"It is best to not touch what does not belong to you," Nero whispered simply, each word stressed with an implied threat. The hand around Jin's wrists tightened once before releasing him. Nero picked up his ear cuff and placed it back on the helix of his ear. Then, the murderous gleam vanished, replaced with faux poise and a kind smile. He handed Jin the ceramic mask. "I forgot to return this to you. After you left, I rebuilt it because I knew being recognized would be an inconvenience."

Shuddering, Jin took the ceramic mask and placed it over his face. "Thank you."

Nero only smiled unsettlingly.

As Jin went to join Two at the surface, he could feel Nero's gaze chilling the back of his neck. When he finally stepped foot on the streets, he heard the echoes of the metal door shutting in the stairway. Nero was gone.

The anxiety in his blood abated as he walked beside Two, ignoring the murmurs and the eyes trailing them down the street. Once they were a decent distance from the pub, Jin exhaled through his nose. "Nero told you where to find a rift, yes? This wasn't all for nothing?"

Two lifted the rolled-up parchment, her grip a little too tight. "Everything we need is here. Money, supplies, the location of a rift. . ."

Jin didn't comment when he noticed Two's breath waver. "Then that is good." After a short interruption from a merchant shouting at a cat stealing his fish, he said, "You know, your assassin friends are lunatics."

Temporarily, whatever distress plaguing her disappeared as Two rolled her eyes. "You don't say."

* * *

"I want you to put your forces under my command."

Nero exhaled, his muscles slack from pure exasperation as he rested in his chair. Darius was too stubborn of a man to please, even more so than Two. "Darius, I mean well when I say this, but me signing off all my authority to you will not put my men under your control. They will dissent."

"I don't need them to listen to me. I just need an edge against Heracroix."

Nero groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I will give you all my authority if you agree to not chase after Two once you leave here."

That made Darius scoff. "Catching feelings, Nero? What, are you letting your fondness override your sense?"

"I would not call it fondness. We are business partners, unlike you and Meskit. You have grown too attached to your pupil. Take this with a grain of salt, but I think you should be wary of how fond you are."

Darius fiddled with a metal shard, flipping it between his fingers. "That's my business." His eyes darkened. "And I don't appreciate what you did to her."

"I did not appreciate how you treated my guests."

"You made her bleed, Nero."

"She is in the infirmary, alive and well. Soon, she will rejoin you. There is nothing else to worry about unless you still have a chip on your shoulder."

Darius curled his lips and leaned back, placing his feet on Nero's desk. Dried mud fell from his soles, making Nero wrinkle his nose.

"I'm still waiting for you to sign over your authority," Darius said, throwing the metal shard and catching it. "I hope you didn't change your mind."

"Would it kill you to be patient?" Nero grabbed a blank parchment and a quill from his drawer, glared at the mud slowly piling on his desk, and began to write.

"I can't say I'm not surprised. Nero Daryxias, Lucius's protege, handing his authority over to an old man like me without even joining the power struggle." Darius shook his head. "I'm actually a tad bit disappointed."

"I have no interest in fighting like an animal for control of something so insignificant." Nero signed his name and passed the note to Darius. "Such things are below me."

After skimming the note, Darius folded the parchment and tucked it into his inner pocket. "You've changed, Nero. I must say, exile has served you well."

"And your trip to Umbra has not. You have grown weak."

"I only lost because you were squeezing the life out of Meskit."

"You should be willing to sacrifice her for the mission."

"And if I'm not?"

Nero paused—blinked. "Did you forget how much you sacrificed to stand where you are today?"

"I could ask the same about you, throwing away your authority like it's nothing but shit. You've grown complacent, boy."

Nero licked his lips. "Perhaps the more fitting term is moved on."

"You? Move on?" Darius asked skeptically. "Not while you still have that ear cuff on."

"Darius," Nero said, a cutting edge to his tone, "you are treading on thin ice."

Darius smacked his heels against the desk, exponentially adding to the pile of dried mud. "Boy, shut your damn mouth. You nearly killed my pupil even though you know what she means to me."

Nero traced a finger under his jaw, thought for a moment, and out of spite said, "She will never be what you want her to be."

Darius glowered at him. "Now you're the one treading on thin ice. Stop confusing yourself with me. I'm not one chasing the past. You think I don't see how you favor Two? I know you, Nero—knew you since you were a mere boy. I saw how you looked up to Lucius, and shit like that doesn't change. Even though you know how we are to deal with traitors, you let Two waltz in and out of your pub like it's some public tavern, and from the looks of it, you also helped her. She killed Lucius. With her own hands. You can't look at me and say that doesn't hurt you at least a little."

"Lucius's death was inevitable, whether by Two's hands, or Heracroix's, or yours." Nero did not acknowledge how Darius stiffened at that, how his breath grew ragged, how his pupils constricted. "He played a game and lost. I am simply rejecting the offer to play the same game by renouncing my authority. With regard to my dealings with Two, that is solely business. She will repay me in due time."

He turned in his chair and crossed his legs, finding interest in the cabinet from which he retrieved the map he had given Two. Nero did not need to concern himself with dealing the proper punishment. Where she was going would accomplish the task for him.

His posture must have given his thoughts away because Darius let out a humorless laugh. Sometimes, it frightened Nero how well Darius could read him.

"Damn fox," Darius mumbled, toying with his metal shard again. "Fine, I won't touch Two. But I am not vouching that others will not attack her should they cross paths."

"She's not as weak as you may think."

"She has seven princes following her like baby ducks. Her strength is the least of my concerns."

"Are you implying she will sacrifice herself for these princes? Like you would your own for Meskit?"

Darius huffed, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. Discomfort permeated the air, and that was all Nero needed to know that Darius planned to take his leave. Lowering his feet from the desk, Darius stood. "I think Meskit is waiting for me. It was nice seeing you, Nero."

"Do visit more frequently. It is quite lonely in these parts. Perhaps on your next visit, I can introduce you to some of my products."

"Thank you, but no. I'm too old to be trying shit like that."

The stretch of a smile on Nero's face was a familiar thing. "Good day, Darius."

When Darius left Nero in solitude, he let his smile drop. Rolling his shoulders, he reclined into his chair and was about to rest his cheek in his palm when the mound of dried mud intruded into his vision. His eyes twitched.

Shivering, Nero wiped the mud into a handkerchief and tied it close to discard later. Once he brushed his hands clean, he finally relaxed and pulled out the letter with the Lotus's wax seal. Thumbing the rough parchment, he unfolded it and ran his eyes down the words again, stopping at the bottom, where it was signed "Aegus."

Sighing, he rolled his head, slumped against his chair, and stared at the drab ceiling of his bland room. The letter lay heavy in his hand.

It was time for him to return home.