The chamber holding Richard pulsed like a living organism. Crimson runes spiraled across the floor in a haunting pattern, feeding into the web of magic that kept him suspended mid-air—limbs slack, head bowed, his body swaying gently as if asleep in water.
Stephen stared up at him, one brow arched. "Well. This isn't ominous at all."
Daemon knelt by the edge of the runes, tracing them with a gloved finger. "Blood magic. Old. Twisted. Someone's mixing witchcraft with something darker."
Stephen gave a low whistle. "I really don't like how many of our problems start with 'ancient forbidden magic.'"
"Focus."
"Right, right." He clapped his hands. "So. What's the plan? We poke it and hope it doesn't explode?"
"I think we disrupt the flow here," Daemon murmured, pointing to a central glyph. "If we can invert this anchor, it should weaken the bindings long enough for us to pull him free."
"And if it doesn't?"
Daemon stood. "Then one or both of us might get flayed alive."
Stephen beamed. "Love your optimism."
They each moved to opposite sides of the room, fingers glowing with energy—Stephen's lighter, more erratic; Daemon's steady and surgical. Together, they began reciting an incantation, low and ancient, their voices threading together into a single hum.
The glyphs began to flicker.
Richard stirred.
Then screamed.
---
Meanwhile – Hope, London, and Celeste
Hope stumbled as the vibrations from below rippled through the cavern. The crystals overhead pulsed violently, some shattering into dust.
Celeste gripped her head. "Something's happening! It's… him. My father!"
Hope's eyes widened. "They must've found him."
London nodded. "Come on."
They raced through a side tunnel, its walls suddenly warping as the very magic of the underground began to destabilize. The passage narrowed and cracked open into a sharp, twisting slide.
Celeste didn't hesitate—she leapt in.
London grabbed Hope's hand. "Ready?"
"Always."
They plunged in together.
---
Elsewhere – Jessa and Raphael
Inside the sealed room, the vision of Richard had left Jessa shaken. She paced back and forth while Raphael pounded against the wall with his bare fists.
"Trapped again," he growled. "What is it with this school and magical rooms that love locking us in?"
Jessa glanced around, brow furrowed. "Wait... these symbols… They're ancient invocation runes. I might be able to reverse the spell if I focus on the entry point."
"Do it," Raphael said. "I'll keep punching."
"You're not punching magic, wolf boy."
"Doesn't matter. It's therapeutic."
---
Back to Stephen and Daemon – Tearing the Veil
Richard screamed again, his body thrashing as the blood runes rebelled against the brothers' efforts.
Daemon's fingers bled from the raw energy searing his hands. Stephen's voice cracked as his magic reached its limit.
"Just a little more!" Daemon shouted.
"Tell that to the demonic latticework trying to kill me!"
The anchor glyph burst into blue flame.
And the entire room exploded in a pulse of energy.
Richard fell from the air.
Daemon dove, catching him just in time, tumbling to the floor with a grunt. Stephen skidded beside them, eyes wide.
"Is he alive?"
Richard's eyes fluttered open. "You two… again?"
Stephen grinned. "Aww. He missed us."
Richard groaned. "I was hoping I was hallucinating."
Then, the walls began to collapse.
---
Hope's Group – Reunited
Hope, London, and Celeste burst into the same chamber moments later.
"Dad!" Jessa cried, appearing just behind them with Raphael in tow—her spell having finally freed them.
The family rushed together. Richard leaned heavily on Daemon but tried to stand straighter as Jessa wrapped him in a trembling embrace.
"I'm okay," he whispered. "You found me."
"No," Hope said, stepping forward. "We all found you."
London gave him a firm nod. "Welcome back, sir."
Richard glanced at him, gaze skeptical.
"Really? You?"
London shrugged. "I have my moments."
"I still don't trust you."
Hope rolled her eyes. "He just helped save your life."
"I didn't say thank you was off the table," Richard muttered. "Just... holding judgment."
London muttered under his breath, "Still a jerk, got it."
Stephen, meanwhile, flopped to the ground, arms stretched wide. "Can we all agree we need a massive nap and possibly therapy?"
Raphael chuckled. "Add food to that list."
Daemon crossed his arms. "We need to leave before this place collapses."
As if on cue, the walls began to crack. A deep rumble echoed from beneath.
"Yeah, that's our cue!" Hope said, grabbing London's hand.
Together, they sprinted through the crumbling tunnels, everyone following in their wake—bruised, battered, and changed.
---
Back at Blackmoor – Nightfall
They reached the surface under a darkening sky. The wind carried the cold scent of pine and ozone. The towers of Blackmoor loomed in the distance, bathed in moonlight.
The group trudged back toward the school, quiet for once.
Celeste hung back a little, her eyes shadowed.
London and Hope walked ahead, shoulders brushing.
"I thought we lost you back there," she said softly.
He gave her a half-smile. "You won't lose me that easy."
"I hope not."
They paused beneath a swaying tree, faces inches apart again. The quiet settled around them.
Hope leaned forward. London's breath caught.
Then—
"GUYS!" Stephen shouted. "We're bleeding and I'm hungry! Less romance, more walking!"
They jumped apart.
Hope sighed. "One day we'll get a proper moment."
London laughed. "One day."
Behind them, the night seemed to sigh.
And somewhere, deep in the shadows, the boy who had tempted Celeste watched from the tree line—eyes cold, lips curved in a wicked smile.