The constructs' chains scraped across the roof, sparks flaring in the cold night. The cloaked figure stepped back, letting the stone giants close in.
Ara planted herself between Kiro and the nearest one. "I'll keep them busy—"
"No," Kiro cut her off, eyes narrowing on the golden web in his vision. "We end this now."
Two threads blazed the brightest — the spearman's and one of the constructs'. The spearman's mind was like a door with a loose lock; the construct's was something else entirely… not thought, but a raw command channel humming with power.
Controlling both meant splitting his focus into two halves. No hesitation. No mistakes.
He lunged mentally.The spearman stiffened mid-breath, head jerking like a marionette yanked by invisible strings.
At the same time, Kiro forced his awareness into the molten-light "mind" of the construct. It fought back — not with will, but with sheer weight, like pushing against a mountain.
Ara slashed one of the other constructs across the arm, the blade sparking against enchanted stone. "Kiro!" she shouted. "Any time now!"
"Working on it," he gritted, sweat breaking across his brow.
The golden web trembled in his vision. Holding one thread was easy. Holding two felt like standing on a cliff edge in a hurricane.
The spearman staggered toward Ara's attacker, jamming his spear into its side. The blow barely chipped stone, but it drew the construct's focus away from her.
Kiro forced the first construct to turn its chains on the second. Stone crashed against stone as they grappled, chains wrapping like iron serpents.
The cloaked figure's voice cut through the chaos. "Impressive. You are the one."
Kiro's teeth clenched. "You sound way too sure of yourself."
"Because I've been where you are," the figure replied calmly, lifting a hand.
The temperature dropped another ten degrees. Frost spread across the roof in spiderweb patterns.
Ara swore. "He's a Cryomancer—"
Before she could finish, ice exploded upward in jagged spikes, forcing her back toward the edge.
Kiro tried to step toward her — and felt the backlash hit.The dual grip on the threads buckled. His vision dimmed, ears ringing.
He had seconds before both minds slipped free.
The cloaked figure stepped closer. "Release them, Kiro. Come with me willingly, and you won't have to burn yourself out."
Kiro forced a smirk, though his head felt like it was splitting open. "Not really my style."
He pushed harder — slamming the construct into the other one so hard their bodies cracked. The shock loosened the chains enough for Ara to dart past.
The spearman was still under his control, but barely. Kiro made him hurl the spear — not at Ara, not at the constructs, but at the cloaked figure.
The man caught it effortlessly.
"That," the figure said, "was a mistake."
The temperature plunged again. This time, the frost crept along the golden threads themselves, numbing Kiro's mental grip. One snapped — the construct broke free, roaring in a voice of grinding stone.
The other thread frayed. Kiro let it go before it tore his mind apart.
Ara grabbed his arm. "We're done here. Move!"
The cloaked figure didn't follow. He just watched as they fled toward the roof's far stairwell.
Kiro felt the man's voice in his mind — not heard, but inside.
You can't run forever, Kiro.
The worst part wasn't the threat.It was the fact that he'd slipped into Kiro's head without leaving a single visible thread.