[16 hours later]
The heavy steps echoed long before the man appeared. Miguel already knew who it was. That scarred face, that crooked grin — it was the same brute who had threatened them earlier.
The man stopped outside their cell, resting one hand lazily against the bars. His single good eye swept over them like a predator sizing up prey.
"Well, well. The two lost little chicks are still alive," he said, his voice dripping with mockery. "Guess the guards haven't found a use for you yet."
Nick stood, meeting his gaze without flinching. "What do you want?"
Scarface chuckled, a low, unpleasant sound. "Entertainment"
He reached through the bars, grabbing Nick by the collar and yanking him forward so hard his forehead hit the iron with a clang. Miguel's hands clenched at his sides. He had always been the quiet one, the one who avoided confrontation — but something in him burned hotter than fear.
"Let him go," Miguel said, his voice low but steady.
Scarface turned to him, grinning wider. "And what's the little mouse gonna do? Squeak at me?"
Nick's patience snapped first. Without thinking, he shoved Scarface's arm away — and that's when it happened.
A spark. Then a small, sharp burst of flame licked across Nick's palm and onto Scarface's wrist. The man yelped, jerking back. The smell of scorched flesh filled the air.
Miguel blinked. "Nick… you—"
"No time," Nick muttered, his eyes locked on their enemy.
Scarface's face twisted with rage. "You think a little parlor trick's gonna save you?" He slammed his shoulder into the bars, rattling the whole cell. "I'll—"
Splash!
A ball of water the size of Miguel's head slammed straight into Scarface's face, knocking him back a step. Water ran down his neck and into the stone floor, streaming toward the glowing magic suppression rune in the wall. The moment it touched, the light in the rune flickered… then dimmed.
Nick's eyes widened. 'what is this power ...'
Before he could finish, the air itself seemed to shift. Magic, rich and unrestrained, swirled around them. Nick's flames flared brighter without effort. Miguel felt water respond to his thoughts like it was alive.
the man got flinched 'they can use it, who are these kids'
Scarface recovered, fury radiating from every muscle. He raised his hands, and to their surprise, the ground under their feet trembled. Small cracks split the stone floor.
"Earth magic…" Miguel muttered.
Scarface grinned. "You're not the only ones with tricks, brats."
Nick didn't hesitate. "Miguel — wet the ground!"
Miguel thrust both hands forward, sending a concentrated wave of water at Scarface's feet. Nick followed instantly, his flames roaring as they struck the soaked floor. Steam exploded upward, blinding their enemy and forcing him back with a howl of pain.
"Now!" Nick shouted.
Miguel formed another water sphere — larger than before — and hurled it into Scarface's chest. The impact slammed him into the bars. The metal groaned, then bent outward under the force.
Nick's fire washed over the weakened section, heating it until the metal softened. Miguel cooled it instantly, the sudden change making the bars brittle. Together, they kicked hard, snapping the metal wide enough to squeeze through.
The sound brought guards running. Shouts filled the corridor.
"Move!" Nick barked.
They slipped through the gap. Miguel raised his hands, sending a surge of water down the hall. The floor became slick, and the first guard to round the corner skidded into the wall with a crash.
Nick hurled fireballs in quick bursts, not to kill but to keep the rest at bay. Prisoners in other cells cheered and banged against their bars, the chaos spreading like wildfire.
They ran. Past the cells, past the mess hall, toward the outer wall where the cold night air seeped through. Two guards blocked the exit.
Miguel didn't think — he reacted. He drew on the magic around him, shaping water into a twisting whip that snapped across one guard's helmet, knocking it clean off and sending the man sprawling.
Nick's flame roared hotter than ever, forcing the second guard to retreat with arms raised to shield his face. Miguel shoved the heavy door open, and suddenly, they were outside.
The night was cold, the air sharp with freedom. The prison loomed behind them, a fortress of stone and hate.
They didn't look back.
Side by side, they ran into the darkness — two strangers bound by fire, water, and the will to survive.
To be continued ...