Ada's voice rang through the living room, electric with excitement as she and Rafik sat together on the couch. Her eyes were already fixed on the screen, bouncing with anticipation.
"I'll never get used to you loving football," Rafik muttered, shaking his head with a smirk.
Ada slid closer and kissed him on the lips, a brief but charged moment that made Rafik's expression soften. Then she pulled back just as quickly, her voice rising.
"It's starting... It's starting!!"
"Who do you think is gonna win?" she asked, nudging him with her elbow.
"For sure the Black Bulls," Rafik replied confidently, locking eyes with her.
"Wrong!!! It's gonna be the Red Pistons," Ada declared, raising a single finger in the air with absolute certainty.
"In your dreams, right? Look at the stats, Ada," Rafik said, laughing at her confidence.
The two leaned into each other, grinning like kids at recess.
"What are we betting on?!" Ada asked, pointing at Rafik.
"The person who wins the bet has to do what the other says. And 'no' is not an option," she added firmly, jabbing her finger into his chest for emphasis.
Moments later, the game ended in a shocking upset—the Red Pistons had taken the win.
"Damn!! How did they win that?" Rafik said in frustration, staring at the screen.
"I won, Rafik... You know what that means."
"Oh, okay, your wish is my—"
Before he could finish, Ada suddenly kissed him again, deeply and without warning.
"Uh!!" Rafik muttered, stunned by the kiss.
"I won't use it yet," Ada whispered, a sly grin curling on her lips.
Elsewhere, alone in her room, Monet sat on her bed, her hands pressed tightly together in a prayer. Her eyes were closed, her thoughts distant—anchored only by one desperate hope.
"Remember that bet we made, Rafik... I'm gonna use it now. Please don't die, Rafik. You owe me that."
Cul-de-sac Battlefield
The skies above the ruined cul-de-sac boiled with steam and smoke. Rafik flew like a dart of ice through the air, barreling toward Dawn with deadly intent. Seeing the threat, Dawn turned and rocketed upward, flames spiraling from his limbs to keep him aloft.
Rafik extended his hand, attempting to freeze Dawn's insides—but the effort was useless. Dawn's core radiated heat from within, melting every trace of the frost before it could take hold.
"Hmmmm..." Rafik muttered, narrowing his eyes.
In a flash, he accelerated, appearing directly in front of Dawn. Dawn raised his hand to fire, but Rafik dodged, grabbed his arm mid-motion, and flung him through a row of old buildings.
The crash echoed through the abandoned cul-de-sac. Dawn tore through five structures before finally hitting the ground. He coughed, staggering to his knees, his mind reeling.
"How is this possible... How!!! I was just winning a moment ago. How did the armor increase his stats so fa—?"
Before he could finish the thought, Rafik appeared again, slamming a punch into his chest and sending him flying through more concrete and steel.
"Thank God we're in the cul-de-sac," Rafik muttered, surveying the damage around them. "Place was abandoned years ago. So I don't have to worry about civilians getting hurt."
Inside the fractured ruins, Dawn screamed—his voice rising above the rubble. "No! This can't be! This can't be how I lose!!"
A surge of heat erupted from the wreckage as a beam of fire burst from the collapsed building. Rafik's eyes widened.
"Whoa... That's a lot of heat," he said, shielding himself slightly from the wave of scalding air.
As the smoke cleared, a new figure stood among the destruction. Dawn's body was encased in flame—forged armor that mirrored Rafik's own. His form blazed orange, every inch of him radiating power.
"That armor is sick..." Rafik laughed. "I feel like I've seen it somewhere before."
But in the midst of his amusement, Dawn suddenly reappeared—sword raised, intent to decapitate him. Rafik barely managed to evade, but not before the flaming blade grazed his neck.
"He actually grazed me!!" Rafik gasped in disbelief.
Dawn screamed again, and his flames intensified—shifting into deeper shades of orange. He hurled himself at Rafik, sword swinging with lethal speed. Rafik responded in kind, parrying every blow with cold precision, sparks and frost colliding midair.
Then Rafik planted his foot and slammed it into Dawn's gut, sending him tumbling backward through the sky.
"Stop this, Dawn... You can't beat me."
But Dawn roared again, flying straight back toward Rafik. This time, instead of another swing of the blade, he released a massive burst of stored heat from deep within—an explosion that thundered through the cul-de-sac.
The blast hurled Rafik across the field like a meteor. He smashed into the ground, the impact cracking stone beneath him. His wings of ice shattered on contact, his armor barely held together, and fresh wounds bled across his body—but he remained alive. Barely.
Dawn landed beside him, wasting no time. His fists slammed into Rafik's face, and a powerful kick sent him flying through the crumbled remains of the nearby buildings.
"What are you fighting for, Rafik?! People you met today? People you've not even known for a week?! People who didn't even come to help you?!"
He stomped toward Rafik's battered body, eyes burning.
"Look, tell me where they are, and I'll spare your life."
He extended his hand.
"Go to hell, Dawn!!" Rafik spat, lifting his middle finger.
"Check it out for me first," Dawn sneered, raising his weapon.
But before he could strike, Dawn suddenly froze—dropping to his knees, coughing up blood. His face contorted in pain as he clutched his chest.
"You've reached your limit, Dawn," Rafik said, slowly rising with a grim smile. "Did you really think you could produce that amount of fire without it taking a toll on your body?"
He let out a laugh, small and bitter.
"Hey, where are you going?" Drake asked, noticing a girl stepping toward the mansion gates.
"I'm going home!!" she said flatly, brushing past him.
But as she stepped outside, both she and Drake stopped in their tracks. The entire perimeter of the mansion was suddenly swarming with guards.
Drake's heart jumped. He was about to shout a warning—
—and then the horror began.
One by one, the guards collapsed, their bodies contorting grotesquely. Organs and fingers spilled from their mouths, their skin bloated and splitting at the seams. Blood sprayed from every pore and opening.
"Uh..." Drake gasped, frozen in awe and horror.
"Parting gift," the girl said calmly as she pulled her cloak over her shoulders and disappeared into the night.