"This isn't a movie, kid. The bad guys always win." Von made his last comment before turning around and following the back.
Aegon watched Von's figure disappear into a door, leaving him to deal with this.
The five men fanned out, blades glinting under the dim lights.
Their eyes were hollow, movements stiff but purposeful—puppets on strings, driven by Von's command.
Aegon's jaw tightened. He couldn't burn them, couldn't unleash what simmered beneath his skin. These weren't enemies—they were victims. But they were armed, and they were coming for his throat.
The first lunged, knife flashing. Aegon coiled in, his body folding tight like a spring. His hand shot out, clamping the man's wrist.
He dragged him forward, elbow jutting out like a spear. The crack of bone against temple echoed, and the man crumpled, knife clattering to the floor.
One down. Four to go.
The second came from the side, slashing wide.
