Ray stepped forward, voice raw with something like pleading. “Saff—listen. I thought you were my friend. We survived up on the same roofs. Don’t do this.”
Saff’s eyes flicked to her, the hard copper braid catching torchlight. For a heartbeat she was almost gentle.
“I thought you were, too.”
Then her jaw set, steel replacing softness.
“Bringing that cat here changed everything. This is our last chance, Ray. Join me. One last push. After that, we rebuild.”
Ray’s laugh was short, incredulous. “You want me to fight the Council with you? Are you daft?” She spat the words like a challenge. “You want me to sign up for open war?”
Saff stepped closer, voice low and fierce. “Yes. I do. And I thought you would be on my side. You would still be your mother’s bargaining chip if I hadn’t dragged you up.”
Ray’s grip tightened around Heartbreaker. “I’m grateful, Saff. I really am. But this is suicide.”
“So is ignoring the Council,” Saff snapped. “Either you’re with us or you’re not. Either way, I’ll have my cat. But if you stand with me, you stand behind mythics. My people won’t trust purebloods. Not even ones who are half pureblood.”
That line hit Ray like a slap.
Her face went hard.
“You’re just as bad as the purebloods, then,” she hissed. “Either we’re equal, or I’m not interested. You don’t—” Her voice cracked. “You have no idea how the Council lives with us. I told you things, Saff. I thought maybe you’d understand.”
Saff’s mouth twisted. “You talk of equality while clutching at crumbs.”
Plum stepped between two fallen crates, gun drawn but lowered, her ears pinned back. “Saff, listen to yourself. You’re proving their worst stories right.”
Saff turned on her with a glare. “And you’re still talking like notes make you useful.”
Plum’s paw tightened on her gun. “No. I’m talking like someone who knows what happens when people turn children and refugees into symbols. It never ends with freedom. It ends with graves.”
Mezzo moved beside Plum, guitar-axe humming low in his paws. His usual grin was gone.
“Let Celeste go,” he said. “Whatever fight you want with Brassmane, the Council, the whole cursed sky—fine. But she’s not yours.”
Saff’s eyes cut to him. “Still pretending this is about what she wants?”
“It is about what she wants,” Mezzo snapped. “That’s the part you keep tripping over.”
Saff’s hand moved in a blur.
A coil of raw mana flared from her palm—hot, hungry light aimed straight at Ray.
“Bloody hell,” Ray snarled, raising her hammer as a shield. “If that’s how you see it, then you’re the same rot that kept us in chains.”
They collided—metal and mana meeting with a shock that snapped sparks through the air.
Around them, Saff’s loyalists surged forward.
Arcade and Pitch moved at once.
Arcade’s quills shivered as he flicked a technique across C.H.I.P.’s interface and launched a barrage of improvised jammers. Sparks and whines cut through the enemies’ coordination.
“Distract and disable!” he barked, fingers dancing over a jury-rigged tablet.
C.H.I.P. snapped into larger combat mode with a metallic whirl.
“Directive accepted: ruin everyone’s afternoon.”
Pitch moved like a shadow with a grin, ducking under a spear sweep and snapping a leg out from under a warrior with a practised, non-lethal kick. “Hey! Watch the ankles!” he joked breathlessly, then followed with a precise strike that put an opponent down without killing.
Plum fired twice—not at bodies, but at weapons. One shot split the binding charm on a staff. Another knocked a curved blade from a loyalist’s grip before it could strike Hughes from behind.
Mezzo slammed his guitar-axe low, dragging a chord from the strings that burst outward in a trembling wave. Two loyalists stumbled back, ears clamped down as the sound rattled their balance.
“Sorry!” he shouted. “That one was meant to be louder!”
“It was loud enough!” Plum snapped.
“Then you’re welcome!”
Hughes charged toward Brassmane’s side—boots pounding—and knelt, hands working fast and blunt. He shoved the crook into the dirt and pressed his palms to Brassmane’s wound, grunting as he tried to staunch the flow of blood with crude battlefield magic and pressure.
“Hold on, lad. Don’t you buy into yer martyr complex yet,” he muttered, voice cramped with effort.
Brassmane coughed, eyes brightening through the fog of pain. He lifted a shaking hand, voice thin but urgent. “Stop—please. She is young. She is impulsive. Not a monster.”
That plea hung between them, a thin, pleading thing.
Saff’s jaw clenched.
For a beat, something like regret flickered across her face.
Then one of her loyalists shouted from the far side of the courtyard.
“We have them!”
Everyone turned.
Two of Saff’s followers had broken through the side platform.
One held Skye by the collar, a crackling mana pistol pressed too close to his head. The other had Lumina trapped against his chest, one arm locked around her middle while she kicked and squirmed with frightened little gasps.
Ray froze.
Mezzo went white.
Arcade’s entire body sparked. “Drop them.”
His voice was quiet.
Too quiet.
C.H.I.P. shifted forward, huge metal hands flexing.
“Threat assessment: unacceptable.”
Saff’s eyes flicked to the children.
Then to Arcade.
Then she smiled.
Not kindly.
“Despawn the robot.”
Arcade’s jaw clenched. “No.”
Saff’s gauntlet lifted, glowing brighter. The loyalist holding Skye tightened his grip.
“Despawn it,” Saff said, voice flat, “or the boy dies.”
Skye’s eyes widened, but he didn’t make a sound.
Lumina twisted harder, ears flat, tears streaking her cheeks. “Let go! Let go of me!”
Arcade trembled with fury.
C.H.I.P. turned slightly toward him. For once, no joke came.
Only a soft beep.
Arcade’s hand glowed.
“Arcade,” Hughes said quietly.
Arcade squeezed his eyes shut.
Then he did it.
C.H.I.P.’s combat frame flickered.
“Statement,” C.H.I.P. began, voice tinny and offended, “this is an extremely poor tactical—”
He vanished in a burst of blue static mana.
Arcade lowered his paw, breathing hard. “Touch either of them and I’ll summon him again without safety on.”
Saff stepped backward, seizing the moment. She crossed to Lumina and pulled the child in front of herself, using her as a shield. Lumina squirmed, terrified, little paws clawing at Saff’s arm.
Ray’s face twisted. “Saff…”
“Don’t,” Saff warned.
Mezzo raised his guitar-axe an inch.
Saff pressed one glowing claw near Lumina’s throat. “I said don’t.”
Mezzo stopped.
Plum’s gun lowered by a fraction, her expression stricken.
From the vault entrance, blue rune-light spilled outward.
The doors ground open.
Celeste stumbled forward, blinking in confusion, clutching her satchel. She emerged into the ring of pointed wands, bristling staves, and frozen faces.
“Oh dear,” she murmured, small and bewildered. “W-what happened now?”
Then she saw Lumina.
Her whole body went still.
Lumina’s eyes found hers.
“Celeste,” she whimpered.
Celeste’s satchel slipped lower on her shoulder. Her paws lifted at once, empty and trembling.
“Please,” Celeste said, voice breaking. “Please don’t hurt her. She’s little. She hasn’t done anything.”
Saff’s voice cut across the hush, sharp as a snapped wire. “No sudden moves. Stay where you are, star-child.”
Celeste nodded quickly, tears already bright in her eyes. “I will. I will, just—please. Don’t hurt Lumina. Don’t hurt Skye. Please.”
Saff looked over the courtyard, at the way every weapon had lowered.
Ray frozen.
Mezzo shaking with rage.
Arcade helpless without C.H.I.P.
Pitch calculating and trapped.
Hughes bleeding beside Brassmane.
Then Saff smiled bitterly.
“This is what I mean,” she said. “Weakness. Every one of you has one.”
Her arm tightened around Lumina.
“And now I know yours.”
The courtyard had gone so still that even the rune-lights felt brittle.
Saff lifted her chin, eyes flashing violet. “Bring her to me—nice and slow.”
A hulking yeti teenager in tattered armour flinched. “M-me?” he squeaked, clutching his staff.
“Yes, you,” Saff said, voice low but cutting. “Move.”
The boy swallowed hard and edged toward Celeste, staff trembling. Celeste raised her hands, moving with small, careful steps, her hoodie brushing her knees. “It’s alright,” she whispered softly, more to him than herself. “I’m coming.”
Saff’s smile was all predator. “Now, little kitty…” she purred, circling like a shark. “Do you know what the little bauble on the back of your neck does?”
Celeste’s ears dipped; her voice came out small. “Um… it’s… it’s to stabilise mana, isn’t it? We hybrids… we don’t have cores. Not like mythics, right?”
She hesitated, then frowned.
“Although… C.H.I.P. said we do. He said the thing in my chest was a mana core. Is that true?”
Saff chuckled darkly, brushing a gauntlet across her own chest before pointing at Celeste’s. “Oh, it’s definitely true. I can see it from here.”
She reached out with two fingers, and when they brushed the centre of Celeste’s chest, a glow pulsed out—soft and circular, nothing like a prism.
“This isn’t a hybrid stabiliser. This is a core. Round. Whole. Not a shard. Hybrids don’t have these.”
The glow faded, but the courtyard didn’t.
Every hybrid nearby twitched faintly, eyes drawn to Celeste as if tugged on a thread.
Saff’s smile sharpened. “Brassmane is right to be cautious. Your core is special, kitten. It’s connecting to all of us. And when we’re close?” Her eyes gleamed. “It amplifies our power.”
Ray’s grip tightened around Heartbreaker.
Saff let the words sink in, then continued, voice lowering. “That’s why they want you. Not because they trust you. Not because they love hybrids. Because they felt what you could do the moment you arrived.”
Her gaze flicked toward Brassmane.
“And if the Council finds out first, they’ll never let you breathe free again.”
Celeste’s paws trembled. “I—I don’t want to amplify anyone. I don’t even know how I’m doing it.”
“That doesn’t matter,” Saff said softly. “Power doesn’t need permission to change the world.”
Saff’s voice dropped into a hiss. “Brassmane noticed the moment you walked in. You’re pulling them to you. Even now, your little buddies are connected. But that suppression rune on your neck?” Her gauntlets sparked. “That’s what’s holding the rest back.”
One of her men slid forward, mana-sword at Pitch’s throat. He didn’t flinch, just tilted his head like a wolf measuring a trap.
Saff prowled around Celeste, slow and deliberate. “I think if we rip that rune out, we’ll see what you really are. Wouldn’t you like that, cat?”
Celeste blinked fast, fingers fidgeting near the hem of her hoodie. “Um… I’m Celeste, not cat,” she said softly. “And I… I’m curious, but… isn’t it dangerous to take off a suppressor?”
Hughes stepped forward, crook in hand, his voice rough but steady.
“Don’t listen t’her, lass. She’s poisonin’ the air with her own fear. You’re not a weapon, you’re a person. We care because we bloody care.”
Arcade flicked his quills back, glaring at Saff. “Yeah, newsflash, psycho—we’re not here because she’s a magic battery. We’re here because she’s Celeste. You don’t get to twist that into some sad little power play.”
Saff barked a laugh, sharp as glass. “Oh, please. Don’t insult me. I can read people like a book.” She pointed at Ray, her smile curling cruel. “That one? Pretends to be tough. But she runs, doesn’t she? Leaves when it’s hard. Crawls back when she’s lonely. She did it with us, too. She craves the strong to cling to.”
Ray’s hammer trembled in her grip, fury flashing across her eyes. “Shut your mouth.”
Saff ignored her, turning her gaze on Hughes and Arcade. “And you lot—an old billy goat past his prime, a loudmouth dog begging for attention, a reporter no one wants, kids that are useless holding the adults back, and a smug hedgehog. Without her? You’re nothing. Weak. You know it.” She winked, venomously playful. “And that wolf—standing quiet, waiting for the perfect chance to stab her in the back. Am I right?”
Pitch’s jaw clenched, but he said nothing, eyes locked on hers like steel through smoke.
Finally, Saff turned back to Celeste, grabbing her chin in one armoured hand, forcing her to meet her gaze. Her voice softened, cutting deeper.
“And you, little kitty… you just want to be liked. To be loved. I’m guessing… daddy issues.”
Celeste’s breath caught. Her cheeks burned red, eyes darting away. She didn’t argue. Couldn’t.
Saff smirked. “Oh, I’m good at this.”
Her gauntlet flared as she tilted Celeste’s head toward the light of her glowing chest.
“If you’ve got a core, there’s nothing to fear. Wouldn’t you like to be free of the Council’s leash? To truly use your magic? We can teach you. All you have to do is stand with me.”
Celeste trembled, torn, her voice breaking.
“I… I don’t…”
Ray’s voice cracked across the ring, raw and desperate. “Don’t do it, Cel! Don’t listen to her!”
Saff’s head snapped toward Ray, her grin turning venom-sweet.
“Of course she’ll say that. She’ll turn on you the first chance she gets. They all will. They cling to you because they need you. But me?” She leaned closer, her whisper hot against Celeste’s ear. “I see you for what you really are. Someone to be feared. Someone to be respected.”
Celeste’s eyes flicked between them both, her ears trembling. She swallowed, the glow at her chest fading to a soft flicker.
