EQUINOX REQUIEM
CHAPTER SIX: SAFE SANCTUARY
The car parks inside a large, luxurious villa. Upon getting off the vehicle, the Wren family stand frozen, their eyes wide as they take in the sight before them. The gates are painted gold, and two statues of crouching lions face each other at the entrance, their stone eyes gleaming in the evening light. The air smells faintly of jasmine and iron. Everything here feels heavy — elegant, but… watchful.
The main building towers above them, a mansion of clean marble and black glass, reflecting the setting sun in molten hues. Rows of trimmed hedges run along both sides of the driveway, and a fountain shaped like intertwined serpents sprays water that glimmers silver under the light.
Mrs. Wren clasps Lyric's trembling hand. Even after everything, the luxury feels unreal — like stepping into someone else's dream.
"This place is huge…" Asher whispers, voice filled with disbelief.
Mr. Summer steps out of the car, adjusting his suit calmly. "Welcome to the Summer Estate."
The gates close with a metallic thud behind them. Hale turns at the sound. For a brief moment, he feels trapped.
A young girl appears from the path ahead, her white sundress fluttering gently in the breeze. She walks toward them with a small, nervous smile.
"Welcome back, Dad," she says softly.
Mrs. Wren glances at her — she's beautiful, almost ethereal, with striking gray eyes that mirror the man beside her.
"These are the Wrens," Mr. Summer introduces. "Mrs. Wren, Asher Wren, Lyric Wren, and Hale Wren."
The girl bows slightly. "Good afternoon, Ms. Wren. My name is Hyacinth Summer. I'm terribly sorry for any trouble I've caused you. I—"
"It's okay," Mrs. Wren interrupts gently. "It wasn't your fault."
Hyacinth exhales in relief and nods. "Thank you."
"Alright," Mr. Summer says, clapping his hands lightly. "You all must be exhausted. You can each pick a room of your choosing — there's more than enough space. Please, rest properly. You're safe here."
"Thank you, Mr. Summer," Mrs. Wren says with a bow.
"Please," he smiles, "just call me Case." Then, with a nod to Hyacinth, he leaves them in the courtyard.
---
Hale appears in the Fractured Void — the endless black expanse stretches before him, shimmering with rivers of distorted light. His body burns with half-translucent white flames, licking the air like living mist.
And then, that voice again.
"Hello again, Hale Wren!"
Xaros steps out of the void's mirage, the shape of his body shifting subtly — human in form, but never entirely still. His grin is wide, almost playful, but his eyes hold something that feels older than time itself.
"You… you saved us," Hale mutters, barely audible.
"What was that?" Xaros tilts his head. "Speak up, boy."
Hale grits his teeth, refusing to meet his gaze.
"Still defiant, I see," Xaros chuckles. "Are you considering my offer now?"
Hale stays silent. The void hums softly around them.
"You need power now more than ever," Xaros continues, stepping closer. "The Summers can't protect you forever. And those men — they won't stop until they see your blood. You can't protect your family like this. You'll all die miserable deaths."
"Shut up!" Hale's voice echoes sharply, the flames around him flickering.
"You think I don't know that?" he growls. "That man, Blade — he wasn't normal. I thought I was strong enough… but I wasn't. He was faster. Stronger."
Images flash through Hale's head — Lyric's tears, his mother's scream, the sound of explosions tearing through their home.
"And he called someone his 'boss'," Hale mutters. "There's something bigger going on."
"Indeed," Xaros replies with a smirk. "You're finally beginning to see the world for what it is."
"Did you kill that Blade guy?" Hale asks suddenly.
Xaros shakes his head slowly. "No. He managed to crawl away. Like a roach that refuses to die."
"Damn it…" Hale whispers. "Just what have I gotten myself into?"
"There are many powerful beings in this world," Xaros says, circling him. "Blade. Me. And others you haven't even dreamed of. You're standing at the edge of something much larger, Hale. The question is — will you leap?"
"I don't trust you," Hale mutters.
"You don't have to." Xaros smiles faintly. "But when the time comes, you will."
The void collapses, the blackness folding into itself like a dying flame.
---
Hale wakes up drenched in sweat. His breath comes out in short, uneven bursts. The room he's in is enormous — easily five times bigger than his dorm room. Soft golden lights cast warm shadows on the cream walls, and a chandelier hangs above, swaying slightly.
He sits up on the king-size bed, rubbing his temples. The memory of Xaros's grin burns in his mind.
He had chosen the room farthest from his family — he wanted space. Solitude. Anything to stop the endless thoughts from suffocating him.
After a few minutes of pacing and cursing under his breath, he collapses back onto the bed. The silence feels too clean, too sterile.
A knock sounds at the door.
He sighs and drags himself to open it.
Hyacinth stands there, holding a tray with a teapot and two cups. Her hair glimmers faintly under the hallway light.
"I wanted to thank you," she says softly, her voice carrying a shy tremor. "For saving me back then."
"Yeah. Sure. No problem," Hale replies, voice flat, almost mechanical.
She hesitates. "You don't… talk much, do you?"
He shrugs. "Not really."
Hyacinth smiles faintly and sets the tray down on a nearby table. "You've been through a lot. I can't imagine what it must've been like."
"Yeah, well… it's fine," he mutters.
"You're not a very good liar."
That makes Hale glance up. For a second, her gray eyes meet his, and something about the way she looks at him — gentle, but searching — reminds him of the calm before a storm.
"If you ever need anything, you can come to me," she says finally.
"Okay."
"Rest well then. Bye." She turns and walks away down the long corridor, her footsteps fading.
Hale shuts the door slowly and returns to the bed. He curls up on his side, staring at the faint reflection of himself in the glass window.
He whispers to the darkness. "I'll protect them… no matter what it takes."
Outside, thunder rumbles softly in the distance.
---
The ruins of the old warehouse lie silent. Smoke rises in thin gray tendrils, curling toward the night sky. The stench of blood and burnt metal lingers in the air.
A faint groan breaks the silence.
From beneath a slab of broken concrete, a hand pushes through. The stone shifts, and slowly, a man drags himself out of the wreckage — face mangled, blood pouring from a gash in his shoulder. Blade collapses onto the ground, gasping.
For a long moment, he doesn't move. Only the sound of the wind fills the emptiness. Then, with visible effort, he rolls onto his back and stares at the sky.
His breathing steadies. His eyes, still sharp despite the pain, scan the ruins.
Scar's remains are nowhere to be seen. The bodies of his men are scattered — motionless.
He clenches his jaw, wiping blood from his mouth.
"That bastard…" he mutters.
He glances toward the gaping hole in the wall — where the tiger had appeared. His thoughts churn in silence.
Why did it let me live?
He can still feel the weight of its gaze — ancient, intelligent, deliberate. Not mercy. Something else.
Blade sits up slowly, his right arm trembling. He picks up a broken piece of rebar and uses it as a cane to stand.
The wind blows through the ruins, carrying with it a faint growl — low, guttural, almost like a whisper.
Blade's eyes narrow.
"It's been a long time… Master," he says under his breath.
Then he turns toward the darkness, limping away as the camera pans upward — the moon casting a pale glow over the broken structure, the shadows shifting subtly, as if something unseen still lingers there.
Chapter Six -- End.