The Fractured Moment

The dim light flickered across the abandoned streets, casting eerie shadows as Nathan and Seraphine moved in tandem, their steps heavy with exhaustion. They were both injured—Nathan's ribs aching with every breath and Seraphine's breathing shallow, blood staining her robes. Their struggle with Korrin had taken its toll and depleted them far beyond any normal healthy expectance. But they couldn't stop. Not yet.

"He's too strong," Seraphine whispered, wiping blood from her face, her voice barely above a rasp. "We can't—"

"I know," Nathan interrupted, his voice strained. "We have to get out of here. We can't fight him directly, not like this."

In the distance the silhouette of Korrin coalesced, and the air itself shrouded in shadow felt like a thing itself. He had been relentless, his strength tremendous, every blow inflicted with him bearing the force which not only crushed their body, but also crushed their soul. Every time they felt they might escape, Korrin would be there, his expression never changing, his cold grin as if a game was being played with them.

Nathan's heart thumped in his chest, the Fragments in him gripped with a hand as they throbbed faintly. He felt it—their strength—near enough to claim but always only a breath, he knew. And Korrin, realizing their fragility, had pushed to the edge.

Seraphine skidded to her side, her legs buckling, but she managed to grab her footing before she fell. "We need to—"

Before she could finish her sentence, Korrin's voice cut through the night, his cold tone making the air itself seem to freeze.

"Running again, Nathan?" Korrin's eyes pulsed harder than anyone could have expected, with the strength squeezing all the flow out of Nathan's vascular system wafting in a sheet of frozen blood. "You think you can escape me? I've given you every opportunity to submit. But now, I'll show you just how foolish you are for resisting. ".

Nathan's grip tightened on the Fragments. He was reaching the limit of his endurance. His vision became blurred and he staggered with each footfall. Seraphine wasn't far behind, but even she could barely keep herself upright. They were both on the brink of collapse.

This is it", Nathan mused, his eyes darting back and forth between Korrin and Seraphine. They couldn't fight him, not like this. Here they would all be killed if they went without help—if they don't find a way to live.

Korrin cut them off, his presence a chokehold while he loomed overhead. You think you just run, hiding behind your pathetic power? The Fragments are mine. And you, Nathan, he said, getting on his knees, bringing his face to a couple inches from Nathan's, "are as nothing but a piece. You were never meant to hold that power."

Nathan struggled to maintain his composure, his throat dry, his head swimming. He could barely stand, let alone fight. Nevertheless, there was a fire in him, a fledgling sense of hopelessness. He wasn't ready to die—not like this. And not knowing the Fragments, not knowing why they had chosen him.

A muffled, ghostly wind blew, swaying the air and palpitating Nathan's heart. The wind shifted direction and started to rotate them all in a vortex motion, like trying to send them packing. But Korrin's laughter filled the air, harsh and cruel.

"You think the wind will save you? How pathetic." Korrin brought his hand up, the deciding blow in reach.

But before the attack could land, a sudden, powerful burst of energy erupted from nowhere, blasting Korrin back with enough force to throw him several feet away. The ground trembled beneath them as a new, unfamiliar presence filled the space. The wind died down, yet that feeling of the bizarre remained in the air, thick and full of life.

Nathan could barely keep his eyes open, but the silhouette of a figure emerged from the shadowed alleyway, a figure cloaked in a tattered but elegant robe. It was different from anything Nathan had experienced before, that is, calm but strong, and completely opposed to Korrin's domineering power.

The figure was a girl—no older than Nathan, her features hidden beneath the hood of her cloak. She made the first move, her gaze wandering through the dim glow and casting the spectral line in the darkness. Fluidly, she swept an arm upward and the air around Korrin whirled for a moment, as if alive itself and trying to reach out to perturb him, and pause him.

"You..." Korrin snarled, his voice laced with disbelief. "Who are you?"

The girl didn't answer immediately. Her eye reflected once on Nathan and Seraphine and then looked at them for a momentary scrutiny. Next, she said, her voice audible but not close, as if she were speaking through a door.

"Your time here is over, Korrin. Her voice held an undeniable power, and it sent a shiver down Nathan's spine. "I've come to claim what is mine."

Korrin's eyes widened, momentarily stunned. He rose to his feet, but his were now slower motions, as if the life force around him had been spent .

"I don't know who you are, but you'll regret this," Korrin growled, his hands crackling with power. However, before he could act, the girl's hand once again shot up, and a shock of force hit Korrin, sending him tumbling backwards onto ruins of an adjacent structure.

Nathan could feel it then—the difference in power. The girl had just single-handedly pushed Korrin back. And she wasn't even breaking a sweat.

And she returned her eyes to Nathan, and to Seraphine, and saw a flicker of softness in them. "You're not in a condition to be standing. Come with me, she said, her tone softer, though still laced with authority.

Before Nathan could react, everything around him blurred. His legs gave way and the remaining world faded into black.