Jack didn't think. He ran.
The instant the man's burning arm stretched toward him, Jack bolted off the sidewalk, sneakers slapping against the pavement. His breath came ragged, his chest tight.
Behind him, the fire moved. Not wild, not random. Controlled.
The man's flames slithered after him like living snakes, twisting through the night air and licking at his jacket. Fabric scorched, the smell of burned cloth searing his nose. Jack yanked it off and hurled his backpack at the man, buying himself a second. The hooded figure swatted it aside as if it were nothing.
That second was all Jack needed. He bolted out of the park, straight into the crowd.
Screams erupted. People noticed the flames then, scattering in terror. Jack didn't stop to warn them. He couldn't. His legs carried him forward on pure panic.
He glanced back. The hooded man didn't run. He walked. Slow. Patient. The fire did the chasing for him.
A fireball hissed through the air. Jack saw it coming not with his eyes, but with his shadow stretching long across the street. He threw himself sideways, tumbling over the curb as the fireball exploded against a storefront. Glass shattered. People screamed louder.
Another fireball came, then another. Jack dodged each one by watching his shadow, twisting and stumbling like a rat in a burning maze.
A man beside him wasn't so lucky. The fireball hit him square in the back. His body lit like paper. The scream was short, then gone.
Jack gagged, bile rising in his throat, but he kept moving.
He tried to vanish into the panicked crowd. If he could just disappear, just slip away—
But the hooded man didn't care who was in the way. His fireballs burst indiscriminately, incinerating people as they ran. The street was chaos.
Jack dove into a bush on the edge of the park, crouching low, heart hammering. The leaves shook as he tried to steady his breath.
Through the gaps, he watched the hooded man stop. The flames flickered, curling around his bandaged hand like restless pets. His hood shifted side to side, scanning the chaos.
Jack pressed a fist against his mouth. Not a dream. Not a trick. I'm going to die here.
The man's fireballs sprayed in random directions now, fury in every movement. One hissed against the ground close enough to singe Jack's bush. The heat scorched his skin.
He was about to bolt when something else moved.
A shadow darted behind the hooded man, swift and sharp. A blade flashed.
Steel struck flame.
The fireball he had just thrown was cleaved in half, scattering harmless sparks across the street.
The hooded man spun. His remaining arm lit, hurling fireball after fireball.
The girl who had appeared dodged each one, weaving through the blaze with precise steps. Sparks exploded against her sword when she parried, bursting like fireworks in the dark. Heat shimmered around her, her uniform smoking where embers kissed it.
Then Jack saw her face.
"Mia?" he whispered.
Mia Park. His classmate. The quiet one. The timid girl who always sat in the back row, scribbling notes like her life depended on it. She had barely ever spoken in class, voice softer than paper.
But she had smiled at him once.
She had spoken to him when no one else would.
She was one of the few people at university who treated him like he wasn't a complete waste.
And now she was here, sword in hand, cutting through fire.
"Where is the False King?" Mia demanded. Her voice was steel, nothing like the whisper he remembered. "I know you're one of his goons. I'll kill all of you."
The hooded man sneered, fire sputtering as blood leaked from his stump. He flung another fireball. She slashed it apart midair, sparks crackling against the ground.
His grin widened. "Fencer, huh? Figures I'd run into a toy soldier. Maybe I'll keep that card once I'm done roasting you."
Mia's eyes narrowed. She didn't answer. Her blade gleamed.
She lunged.
The hooded man twisted, flames bursting, but Mia sidestepped, her sword arcing clean.
His arm hit the ground, severed at the elbow.
Blood sprayed. Fire sputtered. He staggered, then laughed, wild and furious.
"I don't have time for your revenge story, girl," he snarled. "I'm busy hunting a cardholder." His gaze snapped toward Jack's bush.
Mia's eyes hardened. She raised her card high.
"Fencer!"
The card flared white. A sword symbol blazed across it, then vanished. The blade in her hand shimmered, wrapped in radiant light. Her stance shifted. No longer timid. No longer amateur. She moved like a master swordswoman.
The hooded man licked blood from his lips, smiling through the pain. "Rare pull, huh? Pity. I'll just tear it out of your corpse."
Mia lunged again, light streaking. His other arm dropped to the ground.
"Now you can't throw fireballs," she said flatly, flicking blood from her blade. "Tell me where the False King is, and I'll make your death painless."
The hooded man's breath came ragged, but his grin stretched wide. "You shouldn't have done that. My card is called Blood Flare for a reason."
The blood pooling at his feet ignited. The blood spraying from his arms burst into fire. Tendrils lashed out across the ground like flaming whips, cracking the air with heat.
"My name is Blake," he growled. "And I'll kill you here."
Mia ducked one whip, parried another, her sword clanging against the flaming tendril. Sparks showered off the blade. The heat seared her face, her skin blistering where the flame grazed her. She slashed one away, only for three more to rise.
Blake laughed, his voice ragged and manic. "That's all your Miracle can do? Dodge, slash, repeat? Pathetic!"
The whips wrapped around her legs, yanking her balance. Her uniform charred, fabric curling away into ash. The white blouse tore, her skirt blackened at the edges, patches of bare skin blistering red. She hissed in pain, but her teeth clenched and she kept swinging.
Jack's gut twisted. He wanted to run. Every instinct screamed at him to leave, to let them kill each other.
But Mia wasn't just anyone. She was the one person at school who didn't look at him like trash. The one person who had ever been kind.
And she was going to die if he did nothing.
His father's card burned against his chest.
He stood from the bush, voice cracking. "Hey!"
Blake turned, fire whips pausing midair.
Jack lifted the black card high, his hand shaking, his throat raw.
"Don't hurt her!"
The card pulsed faintly in his grip.
The world held its breath.