Foster was surrounded by a mountain of reporters and journalists who pushed in with notebooks and cameras, all trying to wring information out of him. Ren stood among them with his hands still jammed into his pockets. He had expected to wait a long time, maybe even get ignored entirely, but Foster lifted his chin and pointed straight at him.
"You," Foster said with a wide grin. "I'll talk to you."
"Me?" Ren pointed to his own chest. "Are you sure? There are a lot of other people eager to speak to you."
"But you have accomplished so much more than I. It is only fitting." Foster's voice carried enough for the crowd to part, giving Ren a narrow path to the front.
Ren squeezed through and stopped a step away from him. "It's a little nerve-racking having so many people here."
"I think I should be saying that." Foster let out a laugh that sounded a bit too polished. He pulled out a chair from a small table, then gestured toward the cushion. "Let's sit." They both sat while the crowd leaned in, waiting. "Aren't you going to write?"
"I have a good memory." Ren cleared his throat. Even with the awkward pressure of all those eyes, he forced himself to sit straight. A man like Foster probably had a schedule packed to the minute. "My first question for you, Mr. Foster. What is your backstory like?"
"We are diving into the nitty-gritty so quickly, heh heh." Foster clasped his hands and leaned forward. "I had two loving parents who left their fortune to me. Unfortunately, they passed in a tragic accident. A couple of mages got into a skirmish and my parents were caught in the crossfire."
Ren nodded, keeping an expression that suggested empathy. The performance was necessary for the crowd more than for Foster. Lyra's theory surfaced in his mind, quietly pressing at his thoughts, but doubt tugged the other way, refusing to settle. "How does this affect your actions today?"
"Well, I suppose it has to do with the fact my parents could have been considered coreless. I am the first in a long line to possess even a minuscule amount of mana control." Foster's grin softened. "Evolution is a marvelous thing, is it not, Mr. Natsume."
"I suppose it is." Ren eased back into his chair.
How many more questions could he ask before it turned into an interrogation? Every set of eyes around the table waited for his next move. His mind spun through ideas, each weaker than the last. This felt like Lyra's domain. She would know what to say. She always did.
"How did your parents' passing make you feel about magic?"
A slight flicker crossed Foster's expression, but he answered just as firmly as before. "It was a hard topic to think about, but it has hardly altered my view of magic users. Magic benefits our world in countless ways. Accidents like that would occur even without it."
"Well said, Mr. Foster. Those are all the questions I have. I should let the others have some time with you. Thank you for speaking with me." Ren extended a hand across the table. Foster paused for a heartbeat before shaking it. The hesitation crawled under Ren's skin, strange and a little out of place, yet he brushed it aside and walked off to clear space for the next reporter.
Lyra snatched his sleeve and dragged him behind the crowd. She jabbed a finger close to his face. "What were you doing? I could have gone up there."
"But you didn't. He pointed to me. I did not exactly volunteer." Ren pushed her hand aside.
Her sigh weighed down her posture, though her shoulders stayed rigid. "In a crowd of ordinary people, you would stand out."
"How so?"
She placed her hands on her hips, eyebrow raised. "Is that a real question? You have white hair, the air gets colder when you stand near me, and your face holds less emotion than a rock."
"That last part was harsh." Ren placed a hand over his chest. "What am I supposed to be showing? I was just standing there."
Lyra waved her hands rapidly, as if trying to air out her frustration. "That's beside the point. Let's focus, like you insisted earlier. Even those mediocre questions got him to reveal something. That was more information than any source I found."
Ren adjusted his collar and combed his fingers through his hair. "Me too."
She watched him continue to fuss with his appearance, her stare sharpening with confusion. "What is with you? Why are you suddenly so concerned with how you look?"
"You are the only person who has talked about it like that." Ren tilted his head. His brows dipped. "Do I look unapproachable? Or like I wouldn't want to spend time with anyone?"
"The questions are getting oddly specific." Lyra crossed her arms. "Maybe. You look like someone who wouldn't bother seeking out company. Like a loner, but the loser type."
Ren blinked. "Can you sugarcoat anything? You never do. Not even a little." He wondered whether she was physically capable of saying something kind.
Her eyes widened just a bit. "I… didn't realize it was a big deal."
Ren sighed. Working with her would be impossible if they kept drifting like this. "Anyway, we should head out. There is nothing else we can get from him." He glanced at her and found her oddly quiet. Something hovered in her expression. Words that had not lined up yet.
Have I really been thinking about my appearance? I guess I have. Not sure why it matters.
His thoughts drifted toward her.
I should at least look presentable while I am around her. She put more effort into this than I did. And she looks… pretty.
"Why leave the party now?"
"Hm?" Ren blinked back to attention.
"We should stay. There is free wine, free food, fancy stuff everywhere." A small grin lifted one corner of her mouth. "Besides, leaving now would look bad."
The idea did not sound terrible. He had nothing else planned. Nothing to lose. "Fair enough. I should probably stop you from getting overly drunk. Someone like you would cause a scene."
"What did you say?" Lyra raised a fist. "I do not cause scenes. I am more professional than you." She took a step back.
Screams burst from the far side of the building. A blast followed. The floor quivered beneath everyone's feet, and the shockwave rolled straight up Ren's spine. He tore off his suit jacket without hesitation and tossed it aside.
Lyra reached for it out of instinct, but it slipped through her fingers and hit the ground. "That was a nice jacket…"
Ren ignored the complaint. He rolled his sleeves up, mana gathering in spirals along his arms. "I can sense eruptions in another room." He shut his eyes for a brief second. "At least fifteen targets entering with weapons. This is a coordinated attack."
"How did you even…" Lyra's voice trailed as she turned toward the panicking crowd. She raised her voice. "Everyone, listen! Move to the fire exit. Do not panic!"
The fire exit banged open before anyone could run. A man stepped through, dressed in a navy coat lined with gold. A detonator sat in his hand. "If these people move, I detonate the bomb."
Ren burst forward. Ice shot from his fingertips and swallowed the man's arm in a thick cube before the detonator could twitch. Ren followed that with a punch to the face so strong it launched the attacker through the nearest wall. "There. A way out."
Lyra blinked at the smoking hole in the wall. "That is one way." She turned back to the crowd and pointed. "You heard him, go!"
Three attackers sprang from the shadows before the people could push forward. Their daggers cut four reporters down in a blink. Lyra threw both hands out, and a massive pink shield curved behind the fleeing civilians. Mana slammed into it, cracking it from corner to corner.
"It cracked…?" she whispered.
Ren was already walking toward the threat.
This was his moment. People lay on the ground. That loss seeped under his skin and set his nerves alight. He pulled his tie loose and conjured Crystalis with a single sharp motion. Frost bled across his skin.
Lyra dissolved her shield and sprinted after the survivors to guide them outside.
Ren stopped in front of fourteen masked figures, each armed with mana-soaked black daggers. "Introduce yourselves. Terrorists always want attention."
A man wearing a long bird-shaped mask stepped forward and lifted his hands toward the ceiling. "We are the Nulls. Our targets are not these harmless civilians, Mr. Natsume. We came for Samuel Foster, for you, and for the Valcrest." His laugh rattled through the room. "God spoke to me, told me to arrive at this hour. Perfect timing. You may call me Raven."
Two masked men dragged blades across their own throats. Their bodies dropped, and the escaping energy surged straight into Raven.
"I know your reputation," Raven said. "A man like you is never taken lightly again." He raised his fists. Light gleamed along his knuckles. "Success comes with such unfortunate consequences."
"You talk too much." Ren closed the distance in an instant. Crystalis carved an arc of frost that whipped toward Raven.
Raven lifted one arm in a lazy motion. A single slash dissolved the frost like mist. "God gifted me divine ability." He ducked under Ren's strike and slid a gloved hand along Ren's side.
A gulf of space opened between them. Then blood gathered. A long gash appeared across Ren's ribs as if carved by something he never saw.
A delayed cut. Easy enough to identify. The problem is understanding how it works. Not wind. It feels like he slices something that exists beyond normal form. The strikes simply appear.
Ren lifted Crystalis. His pulse thudded once, steady.
I cannot lose my rhythm. But if I am right about that ability, my chances are almost nonexistent.
He tightened his grip until the blade bit into his own palm. Blood smeared down the icy metal, setting off a surge of mana. "A true victor does not yield just because the odds say he should."
Ice poured from his body and wrapped him in thick armor.
Raven crossed his arms in an X. Two invisible strikes carved across Ren's chest, but Ren pushed through the pain. His sword came within inches of Raven's throat before Raven twisted aside.
Another slash caught Ren's back and drove him to one knee. He hissed through his teeth. "Fine. I will try something new." Crystalis broke apart into drifting mana shards.
Ren lunged. Slashes cut him open as he moved, but he broke through Raven's guard and grabbed both of Raven's wrists. Ice climbed over Raven's hands, locking his fingers in place. Ren slammed his forehead into the mask. It shattered on impact.
A man stood beneath it with deep brown skin and three scars running from his brow to his hairline. His eyes burned with resolve, not hatred.
"Did you?" Raven rose to his feet. Ice slid from his hands in sheets. Water streamed down his arms, then warped into steam as heat built beneath his skin. Flames crawled up along both forearms. "That's not the whole technique." His grin sharpened.
Raven swept his hand through the air. A streak of flame tore forward like a whip. Ren darted aside; the heat scraped his cheek as it passed.
I could be cooked alive. I cannot let the armor take the brunt of this. Flames chew ice too easily.
He rolled across the floor and thrust a hand upward. Moisture shuddered in the air. Several icicles snapped into form and launched toward Raven in steady succession. Raven flicked fire at each one. Flame splashed against the ice, breaking them apart and filling the room with a dense, rolling cloud of steam.
Ren cut through that cloud at a sprint, Crystalis materializing in his grip. The blade's tip broke through the haze first and carved into Raven's side. Ren drove Raven to the ground, pinning him with the weapon. Ice surged from the wound and climbed across Raven's body like living frost.
Raven's fingers tightened around the white blade. Blood slipped from the corner of his mouth. He stared straight into Ren's cold focus with a strange, steady resolve. "No emotion. No warmth. You walk a path that leads only to isolation." His words rasped.
Flesh tore. Feathers pushed through Raven's skin. His limbs thickened and stretched, joints creaking as his shape twisted. He shed his gloves with a flex, revealing hooked claws. Those claws closed around Crystalis and snapped the blade clean.
Ren hopped back.
Let me think this through. Cutting first. Then fire. Now a beast's body. If this is one single technique… then…
His thought fractured at the sound of hurried footsteps behind him. Lyra emerged from the smoke, breathing hard. Her clothes were torn, streaked with soot. Whatever she fought through outside had been brutal enough to leave marks.
She held a pink sword shaped from her barrier technique. "It's a cooking process," she said between breaths. "The cuts prepare the flesh. The flames cook it. Then he changes. Look at him. He's ready to devour the meal he just prepared."
A thin grin tugged at Ren's lips. "You really are a quick thinker." His eyes shifted toward Raven's changing silhouette. "Techniques built on simple foundations always outlast complicated ones. Pure ice manipulation gives me freedom to adapt."
He stepped forward, wiped the blood off his chin, and formed Crystalis again. "I apologize, Lyra. I appreciate your help, but I don't think I need it. You know as well as I do that we faced far worse Blights than this. If I can't handle him alone, I'd question everything about myself afterward."
Raven completed his transformation. What stood before them looked like a towering, birdlike beast with layered feathers sharp enough to glint like metal yet flexible enough to ripple with every breath. Claws extended from talons large enough to split stone. Rows of jagged teeth framed a beak-like jaw.
The creature roared. The sound rattled Ren's chest and wavered his balance for a heartbeat. Raven spread his wings and pivoted. Behind him, several Null members broke and fled in panic.
The beast hesitated. Ren caught a flicker of something in its eyes that didn't match its earlier confidence. Confusion? Doubt? As if its new instincts clashed with its former purpose. Raven abruptly spun around and bolted after his retreating followers. His bulk smashed through the roof in a single jump. Feathers scattered like black snow as he vanished into the sky.
Ren scratched the back of his neck. "That was a little disappointing."
Lyra held a hand over her injured shoulder. She stared at the hole in the roof, her voice softer. "I didn't know you fought with that much conviction."
Ren blinked. Barely. He wasn't sure which part of what he said caused such a shift in her tone. "What…?"
Lyra kept her eyes fixed on the roof. "The confidence to fight alone out of pride. It's idiotic. But admirable."
"It was selfish. Nothing more." Ren walked toward the destroyed section of wall. "Your quick thinking was far more impressive."
He stepped outside into the open air while Lyra lingered behind. Her fingers tightened around her shoulder. "Don't say that. It isn't true. I'm nothing."