“The Darkness Rises”

Gabriel

Red droplets fell onto the stone, shattering like fragile glass.

My breath burned in my throat, my fingers tightened around the hilt of my sword as I forced myself to stand.

Gideon held the blade as if it were a part of him—not a weapon, but an intention.

Isaac knelt, one hand pressed against his ribs. His breath was rough, but in his eyes still flickered the sharp light of an old warrior.

"You've grown weaker, Crowe," said Gideon, a hint of amusement in his voice. "In the past, I wouldn't have even had the chance to wound you."

Isaac spat blood onto the ground. "In the past, I was smart enough not to deal with rats like you."

Gideon's smile froze.

Raphael's grip on his lance tightened—the same thought lingered in the air.

But charging in blindly wouldn't help us.

Gideon was fast. Too fast.

Michael remained motionless, his eyes following even the smallest movements.

Then… Gideon was gone.

A blink.

A moment of silence.

Then I felt it—a distorted blur in the dim light.

The blow struck me in the side, forcing the air from my lungs.

Raphael's lance sliced through the air—useless.

Michael instinctively dodged, but Gideon was already behind him.

A kick knocked him off balance, then Gideon grabbed his collar and hurled him across the room. Wood splintered, dust rose.

Raphael drove his lance into the ground, using it as a pivot point and lashed out with lightning-fast precision—but Gideon ducked effortlessly, his counterstrike slamming into Raphael's shin.

Raphael gasped and dropped to one knee.

We were no longer prey.

I forced myself upright, shaking off the pain.

Gideon was fast, yes. But not invincible.

The blade remained loose in my grip—wait.

I felt it deep inside me, a voice seeping through my blood.

Then Gideon moved again—straight for me.

Now.

I dropped, dodged his strike, and let my sword rise.

The blade cut through the air—and this time, it hit.

A thin red line appeared across Gideon's cheek.

Silence.

His finger brushed the blood.

Then he grinned.

"Finally," he murmured. "Now it's getting interesting."

Isaac

My legs held me again—pain was just a memory I ignored.

I knew Gideon. I knew he wasn't taking this seriously—not yet.

But Gabriel had struck him.

That meant he would change now.

"Listen carefully," I said roughly. "Gideon doesn't just fight. He analyzes. He doesn't just want to kill you, he wants to break you."

Raphael spat blood and slowly stood.

"Sounds like a real bastard," Michael muttered, wiping blood from his lip.

"Bastards are easy to kill." Gabriel raised his sword, his gaze burning.

Gideon just smiled.

"Then show me what you've learned."

He attacked.

Raphael

My legs were heavy, my breath rough.

But my grip on the lance was firm.

I had to focus on what Isaac had taught us.

No reckless moves.

No attacks without a plan.

Gideon rushed toward me.

Wait.

Wait.

Just before he reached me, I drove the lance into the ground, pushed off with the strength of my legs, and spun over him.

His strike hit nothing but air.

I landed behind him, let the divine light flow into my weapon—and drove the lance toward his back.

But at the last second, Gideon twisted aside, and the blade only grazed his shoulder.

He growled.

"Not bad."

Then he struck.

His fist slammed into my ribs, and I flew into one of the old pillars.

Damn…

Gabriel lunged forward, his sword aimed at Gideon's throat.

But Gideon ducked under the blade, grabbed Gabriel's wrist, and twisted it with inhuman strength.

Gabriel stifled a cry as he was thrown backward.

Michael was next.

He emerged from the shadows, blades flashing in the darkness—Gideon dodged once, twice, three times, but on the fourth strike, Michaelmanaged to carve a wound into his arm.

Blood dripped onto the ground.

Gideon chuckled quietly.

"You're actually learning."

But then…

Then his grin vanished.

Gabriel

It was like a tear in the air.

The darkness breathed—heavy, pulsing, lurking.

Gideon's presence shifted.

The air crackled as if something unholy was crawling through his veins.

His eyes flickered—not human, not normal.

Then he vanished from the now.

Michael flew into the wall as if an invisible fist had grabbed him.

Raphael followed—his lance ripped from his grasp with inhuman strength, and a kick to the chest sent him crumpling to the ground.

Then it was my turn.

I raised my sword, prepared myself—but suddenly, he was behind me.

His hand clamped around my neck.

Ice-cold power surged through me.

"This is it for you."

He hurled me to the ground.

Everything blurred.

I heard Raphael groan, Michael gasp.

Gideon loomed over us, his twisted smile etched into the moonlight.

"Valerius was right," he murmured. "You're not ready."

He raised his blade.

One breath, one strike—and the night would swallow us whole.

But then—

A gunshot.

Not from us.

From someone else.

The bullet struck just beside Gideon's foot, carving a trench into the stone floor.

Gideon spun around.

Someone stood in the shadows of the ruined church.

A coat, a mask.

And a voice, cold and empty:

"That's enough."