The rods of blood, glowing red, moved swiftly as Vera swings his trident and a huge wave of water crashed over them. Steam rose in thick clouds, rolling across the sand like smoke.
Fahrenheit stood tall, laughing with a voice that grated like steel against bone. "Hah! You all are weaker than Azmaik told me. You really think your little tricks will stop me? That trident of yours...." he pointed with a crooked smile, "....is nothing more than a child's toy against the blood of my clan."
Tom stepped forward, brushing dust off his torn sleeve. His expression didn't flinch, voice steady, almost quiet. "Funny.… for someone so loud, you sure seem desperate to prove yourself. That laughter sounds like fear dressed as confidence. If you are that strong why are you working under someone else?"
The vampire's was silent for a moment then burst out a laughter.
Vera rested his trident on the ground, calm but ready for any surprise attack. "If your power is so great, why waste time mocking us? A predator doesn't need to tell its prey what it can do. You talk too much, kill us already blud."
Fahrenheit's eyes narrowed. He tried to laugh again, but it came out thinner, a note of unease beneath it. "....You little mortals. Always having gut dig in your butt when you don't understand what stands before you." His voice sharpened, anger creeping in.
Then suddenly, he stopped. His head twitched slightly, his pupils dilating, as if he'd felt something none of them could. His woe slowly returned, but it didn't reach his eyes.
"Ahh. I see." He chuckled, but it was lower now, edged with something dangerous. "Something here isn't right. I'll remember this." His body rippled and collapsed into a cloud of black smoke, wings of a bat flickering through the haze. In an instant, he was gone, vanished into the sky.
Tom let out a slow breath, his hand loosening at his side. "He ran but, what was he talking about?"
Vera frowned. "That means he's seen something we haven't."
Grace folded her arms, her face pale but steady. "Or someone is pulling his strings back. Either way, it's not the end."
Before any of them could continue, a figure approached from the shadows of the desert. Elior, his steps calm, his yellow eyes catching the moonlight. Dust clung to his clothes, but his composure remained the same as always.
"You're right," Elior said. "That wasn't the end. Azmaik was monitoring us the whole time."
The three turned to him. Tom frowned, lowering his voice. "Watching? But how?"
Elior's tone was flat, without any dramatics. "He is clever. He didn't just move pieces; he breaks them in your blink. Every fight, every slip of power, every mistake.... we were been under his eye. Fahrenheit wasn't fighting on his own. He was here just to give Sonia time to take her the Lea Infra. After she left, Fahrenheit felt it too."
Vera's jaw tightened, his grip on the trident firm. "So, we're entertainment? Or experiments?"
"Entertainment for them...." Elior sighed and looked at sky. "....Experiments to them." He saying the other half, looked down at the land.
"To Azmaik, there's no difference."
Grace looked down, her hands curling. "So even when we win.… we're losing."
Elior finally let out a small sigh, meeting each of their eyes in turn. "Not if we understand it. Azmaik monitors us, but that means he's afraid of what we might do if we're left alone. Fear is the first bruise in a armor."
The fire from their earlier battle had burned out, leaving only the wind across the sand. Slowly, they began to walk back toward the bunker, the silence between them heavy but not hopeless.
Tom broke it first, quietly, "Then we don't give him the satisfaction. We fight smarter and we fight like people he can't predict."
Elior glanced at him, almost smirking. "Good. You still need to learn a lot."
The heavy door groaned as Elior pushed it open, letting the four of them slip back into the bunker.
The Lanterns light waved across anxious faces, shadows dancing along the walls in a chorus.
Rosario was leaning against the far wall with his arms crossed, eyes scanning the group like a watchful hawk. When he noticed them enter, he straightened, his voice sharp but laced with relief.
"About damn time. Thought you all got yourselves eaten out there."
Grace shook her head. "Not before you, lad."
Rosario jerked his chin toward the survivors. "I came back earlier, just to check. Didn't want these folks panicking. They're quiet now, but…. you can feel it. They're just waiting for something to come and chew them off."
Tom glanced over the group, his eyes softening, then turned back. "Where's Arlong? I don't see him."
Elior gestured with his head. "Come, he is resting."
The group followed Elior through the dim hallway to one of the side rooms. He pushed the door open carefully, and the sight made Tom stop short.
Johan was sprawled across the cold floorboards like a man who'd collapsed after days of marching, his arm tossed over his face, boots still on. Next to him, Arlong was tucked neatly into a bed, quilt pulled to his chin, looking almost angelic despite the bandages around his missing arm.
Rosario squinted, then muttered loud enough for them all to hear:
"….How the hell are these two sleeping like babies while we're out there rumbling with blood-sucking freaks?"
Grace stifled a laugh behind her hand. Vera raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.
Tom couldn't help himself; he smirked. "Guess trauma makes for the best pillow."
Rosario snorted. "No, that's just disrespectful. I'm sweating bullets outside, and these two look like they're on vacation."
Elior's lips curled into the vaguest broad smile. "Let them rest. They'll need their strength soon."
Outside,
A vast sea of black stitched with silver stars. The air was cool, sharp enough to sting their lungs after the heated battles. When Tom, Grace, and Elior stepped out of the bunker, the sight above made them amazed.
The moon rose above, shattered. Its surface fractured into jagged halves, one larger chunk glowing fiercely while the smaller piece bled pale yellow light. Dust-like trails floated between them like a river of ash frozen in the sky.
The sand dunes reflected that yellowish glow, and the silence of the desert carried a strange, heavy beauty.
Tom shoved his hands in his pockets, staring up at that fractured moon. His voice broke the quiet.
"Elior.… I've been meaning to ask. How do you still have your Face… after death?"
Elior tilted his head, the corner of his mouth twitched. He exhaled, eyes following the jagged moon. "When I died…. there was a token in my inventory, of course, rare thing. It lets you keep your Face even after death but only once. It's not a gift you get twice and you don't choose when it works. It triggers on its own the moment you revive."
Tom blinked, processing. "So you got lucky?"
Elior chuckled, low and bitter. "If you call crawling back from the grave lucky, then yeah. Lucky."
Grace, standing a step ahead, hugged her arms against the night chill. Her eyes lingered on the broken moon too. "Elior.… what's the Transparent Realm exactly? I think… I've unlocked mine."
Tom looked at her sharply. "You did?"
She nodded slowly, hesitant. "I don't even know how. It just…. happened. In that fight with Rosario, when I thought everything was useless. Suddenly… I felt stronger, faster, different."
Elior turned to her with interest. His tone grew calmer, more grounded. "The Transparent Realm unlocks when your Face and your own self resonate completely. When you stop fighting your nature, and your will and your Face's essence.… become one. Until then, you're only scraping at half your strength. A Facebearer without the Transparent Realm can't use more than fourty-two percent of their Face's true power. That's the boundary."
Grace's eyes widened slightly. She breathed out, "Okay."
Tom frowned. "Wait. You're saying unlocking it also makes you physically better too?"
Elior nodded. "Yes, your stats updates. You don't just think faster or move cleaner but also your whole body and your Face's spirit move as one."
Tom narrowed his eyes, suspicion in his voice. "Then you must've unlocked it already, right? You've been.… insane since day one."
A small smile ghosted Elior's lips. He shook his head. "No. I haven't."
Both Tom and Grace froze, disbelief cutting through the night air. Tom's voice cracked. "Wait.... you haven't?!"
"Nope." Elior stretched his arm, and in the glow of the moonlight, thin streams of golden sand shimmered briefly around his.
His Face's aura, kept faint but visible. He flicked his wrist, and a translucent screen of numbers appeared in the air, showing his Face's physical stats.
Tom leaned closer, eyes scanning quickly. Grace bit her lip, stunned at the raw numbers glowing faintly in the night.
[ Face Status ]
[ Strength: B
Speed: A
Endurance: A
Agility: B
Intelligence: C
Adaptability: B+
Durability: A ]
Even without Transparent Realm unlocked, Elior's stats were high enough to make both of them uneasy.
Tom let out a low whistle. "That's fantastic!"
Elior smirked, folding his arms. "That's me without resonance. Imagine what happens when I do. But I won't, cause I think I don't need it. I am happy with what I have"
The half-dead moonlight reflected across his face. The night was draining darker.