While Sven was fighting for his life against the equally disgusting and brutal Vilek brothers, Isaac, two floors above, was not faring much better. If anything, he was in an even worse predicament.

It all started when Isaac phased up through the ceiling.

The sensation never got easier. The world stretched, thinned, and folded around him like warm clay under pressure. Concrete softened to dust, steel blurred to liquid lines, and Isaac felt his body become a ripple passing through reality rather than part of it. He exhaled as he rose and let the stadium swallow him upward.

He could see Seraphina two floors above, standing in the centre of a room. She was still. Too still. Standing in a random empty chamber surrounded by idle spotlights, loose cables, and abandoned equipment cases, seemingly waiting to be set up for the event.

It was odd, but Isaac didn't overthink it.

'Mission is simple,' he reminded himself as he ascended. 'Find her. Shoot her. Get out of here.'

He flew straight into it.

But when his head poked out on the other side - when the world snapped back into focus like a camera shutter locking into place - what greeted him caused his heart to drop into his stomach.

Yes. Seraphina was a beauty. Even more so in person.

Raven-black hair spilt over her shoulders like ink poured in slow motion, glossy like it was straight out of a shampoo advert. Her eyes were ice-blue, sharp, cold, intelligent, and glowing faintly in the gloom like winter moons reflecting off frozen water. Even standing idle, she looked like the kind of woman poets would ruin their lives over.

A strikingly beautiful woman, with a presence heavy enough to fill a room without needing to move a muscle.

But that wasn't what caught Isaac's attention.

It was the smile.

Small. Calm. And amused.

She didn't flinch. Not even a little. Not when Isaac emerged behind her like a spectre breaking from a grave.

She turned her head slightly, the corner of her lip pulling upward.

'Something's off,' Isaac thought - instincts prickling the back of his skull like static warning before lightning struck.

But instincts were luxuries. Opportunity was currency.

And he'd already committed.

With the dart gun in hand, he went for the shot once he'd emerged completely above the ground. If he fired in his phased form, the dart would also be phased. And if he tried to materialise halfway up, well, let's just say the ground would separate his body.

Finger tightening around the trigger as he aimed for the back of her neck. Incapacitate first. Ask questions never. That was how you survived in the circles he ran in.

The dart fired with a pfft - a tiny exhale of compressed air.

Seraphina spun.

Her heel flicked upward in a flawless arc.

CRACK.

The dart gun was kicked clean out of his hands the moment he materialised, spinning end over end before skittering across the polished floor like a dying insect with a metal carcass.

Isaac staggered back, teeth baring in surprise.

"Hello, Phaser," Seraphina said, brushing imaginary dust from her sleeve. "I've been expecting you."

Isaac immediately looked away. His eyes snapped shut for half a second before he forced his head to turn - refusing to meet her gaze after hearing Kai's story of how she could trap a mind like a bear trap snapping on bone.

'Expecting me?' he repeated internally, pulse thudding. 'How did she react so quickly? And why is she talking like a Bond villain?'

His confusion came fast, layered, and messy.

'And no one told me she knew how to fight?!' he thought, outrage trying to rise - but the panic drowned it before it could surface.

He was a calculated man, yes.

But this? This was new information mid-combat, and he hated surprise pop quizzes.

He looked through the ground with his Phased Vision, which just strained him further, and what he saw led him to the same conclusion Sven had reached.

'This was planned!'

Immediately, he considered retreating. If he could help Sven, maybe together they could deal with Seraphina. Or maybe it was time to ditch the whole objective altogether.

However, the moment he tried to phase back through the ground, invisible ripples smashed into his senses like sound weaponry cranked to eleven. It was an attack not on flesh, but on equilibrium itself.

His stomach rolled. Then twisted. Then flipped.

The world doubled, smeared, spun, and tried to invert itself inside his skull.

Isaac gagged, one knee hitting the ground.

He dropped the metal pole, which rolled away from him.

Then fell his other knee.

The floor might as well have been rising to punch him.

His phasing flickered like a light switch sparking, trying to find a stable state - but the interference swallowed it whole before it could connect.

He knew this feeling.

Nyx.

This was Nyx.

And the dots clicked into place in his mind like tumblers in a lock, turning toward doom.

From the Thundercutter's dramatic entrance, to the oddly escalating security gauntlet, to Seraphina waiting alone like bait in a vacuum-sealed gift box and the obstacles in Sven's way - this was a performance staged by the puppet master himself.

Nyx did not create obstacles to stop people.

He created obstacles to watch them break themselves trying to overcome them.

A man who loved research, despair, and snacks.

And Isaac had front-row seats to his own humiliation.

He swallowed, bile burning his throat - breath ragged as he tried to steady himself.

'That bastard prepared well,' he thought, teeth grinding. 'But how did he even know what we were planning?'

A voice from memory slithered into his skull, taunting even in recollection:

"A simple frequency adjustment, and just like that, your precious phasing is worthless."

"You don't need to worry about mutant suppressants."

"You're already useless."

The words echoed like a scripture Isaac wished he'd never memorised.

The last time he'd heard them, he'd been toyed with and lost his arm and dignity after being allowed to leave his facility. A mouse trapped under a scientist's boot, that's what he felt like.

And this was a replication of that same Mousetrap.

He remembered being helpless. Pathetic. And that was while he had two arms as he struggled for Nyx's entertainment.

That day, Isaac had fought while already believing it was over.

This time?

This time, he would still fight.

But he did not believe it was over.

He believed it was personal.

He believed it was fixable.

And that was dangerous, because hope made you reckless, and reckless made you sloppy, and sloppy got you killed.

Isaac staggered back - legs wobbling, body fighting gravity and losing - before snapping his eyes shut again.

Backing away, he closed his eyes properly this time.

As he did, Seraphina laughed.

She had just been watching him toil as the anti-phasing waves were unleashed within the chamber. But what shocked Isaac was her tone.

Cold. Sharp. Direct.

Not the voice of a singer who could melt a crowd with warmth and charisma.

No.

This was a voice that could melt spines with intent.

"So it seems you've heard about my ability," she said, boots clicking once as she stepped toward him. "But what do you think you're going to do with your eyes closed?"

Isaac, still facing away, answered instantly - without thinking - the first honest thing that had left his mouth all day:

"Kidnap you."

Silence.

Then laughter.

Then more laughter.

She laughed like a woman who had been waiting years for a man stupid enough to say that out loud.

But the laughter stopped.

Because silence was worse.

Silence meant movement.

Silent movement meant predator mode activated.

And as she moved - no footsteps, no breath, no sound - the interference humming through the chamber swallowed every trace of spatial awareness Isaac had left.

He had no idea where she was now.

Not because she vanished.

But because she was a mental hazard, who forced him to keep his eyes closed, and moved like regret itself.

'Yup,' Isaac thought, shoulders slumping even in resolve. 'This definitely isn't going to work.'

And that was exactly where it began...

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