Nero's cheek burned a deep, angry red—a sharp, pulsing pain that throbbed in time with his heartbeat.
It wasn't a serious wound. Just a shallow cut, caused by a shard of glass when the first shot shattered the window. But the sting kept him anchored to the moment, a cruel reminder of how close he had come to dying.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The gunfire erupted one shot after another—dry, violent cracks that tore through any illusion of safety the Nevue restaurant had ever offered.
The bullets came from the shadows of the street outside, unseen and treacherous. Some slammed into the crystal walls and polished marble, making the entire building tremble slightly, as if the place itself hesitated between elegance and survival.
Others showed no mercy at all.
A man collapsed near the entrance with a strangled cry, his body hitting the pristine floor in a lifeless heap.
A woman screamed as a bullet grazed her shoulder, blood spilling between her fingers while her mind struggled to process what had just happened.
Gunshots blended with shrieks, with the crash of overturned tables, with the sharp sound of glasses shattering as they hit the floor.
Luxury dissolved into chaos.
People ran in every direction, shoving, stumbling, colliding with one another in blind panic.
Parents clutched their children desperately, shielding them with their own bodies, whispering broken prayers through clenched teeth, cursing fate, the world, anyone who might hear them.
Some cried openly, frozen in place, fear rooting them to the ground.
Merlin remained standing.
He was smiling.
He watched the shifting shadows beyond the shattered windows as if he could see through the darkness itself. His eyes gleamed with an unsettling calm, something almost unnatural, while bullets continued to scream through the air.
Bang!
A shot passed close enough to tear fabric from his cloak.
Merlin didn't even blink.
Then he saw a little girl fall to the ground, knocked over by the fleeing crowd, her cries drowned out by the deafening noise.
He saw an old man bleeding from the leg, unable to stand.
He saw the terror in the eyes of those who, moments earlier, had believed themselves untouchable.
Merlin's smile faded.
His expression hardened, and for the first time since they had entered the Nevue, something like pain crossed his face.
He raised both hands and murmured ancient words—soft, controlled, heavy with power.
A faint glow bloomed between his fingers as he moved toward the wounded, ignoring the bullets, ignoring the danger.
"Please… stay calm. I can help you," he said, his voice steady, almost gentle.
He knelt beside the woman with the injured shoulder. The bleeding slowed. Skin began to knit itself together beneath the pale light of his magic.
But the woman screamed.
"Don't touch me!"
She shoved him away, scrambling backward with pure panic in her eyes.
"Stay away from me, you monster!"
Others reacted the same way. A man slapped Merlin's hand away when he tried to help his child. A woman pushed him aside, sobbing, screaming that she didn't want to be "marked by him," that she didn't trust him.
Merlin froze.
The light between his fingers dimmed… then vanished.
For the first time, he looked small.
Nero watched with his stomach twisted tight. He saw Merlin's shoulders stiffen, the way his jaw clenched, the brief haze in his eyes before that familiar cold mask snapped back into place.
"Idiots…" Nero muttered under his breath.
Bang!
Another bullet struck nearby, sending shards of stone skittering across the floor.
Instinct took over.
Without a word, Nero pulled his revolver from his belt.
He weighed it for a second—its balance, its presence—then turned and pressed it into Rose's hands.
She was shaking, crouched behind a table, eyes wide, terror etched across her face.
"Nero…" she whispered.
"Take it," he said quietly but firmly. "Don't fire unless you have to. Just… hold it."
Rose swallowed hard and nodded, gripping the revolver with both hands. Not because it was heavy, but because of what it meant.
Nero stepped forward.
In his other hand, two cards were already spinning between his fingers—black as night, moving with an unsettling ease.
The air around him seemed to cool slightly, a subtle shift, but charged with menace.
Sunday moved to his side, knife in hand, eyes sharp.
Lux laughed softly, trying to hide his own fear, while Kōri positioned herself protectively near Rose, never taking her eyes off Nero.
Bang! Bang!
The shooting continued.
And this time, it wasn't just about survival.
It was personal.
Nero lifted his gaze toward the darkness outside, his eyes burning with dangerous resolve.
"That's enough," he murmured.
The cards stopped spinning.
And the real hell was about to begin.
…
"Lux… vision," Nero said with authority.
Lux blinked, startled, barely reacting at first.
"I'll… activate it," he murmured, confused.
His eyes brightened, shifting into the pale hue of dawn.
The silence that followed Lux's words was heavier than the gunfire.
"We're surrounded… at least twenty of them."
No one spoke.
The panic already choking the air finally overflowed. Screams intensified. People ran without direction, crashing into each other, knocking over chairs, trampling broken plates and pools of blood. Chaos lost all shape—it became pure animal instinct.
"Move!" Nero ordered.
He didn't shout. He didn't need to. His voice cut through the noise like a blade.
He grabbed Rose by the arm and guided her as Sunday forced a path forward with controlled shoves. Kōri covered the rear, alert, while Lux walked with unfocused eyes, still processing what he had seen. Merlin followed last, quieter than ever.
They slipped through a side door just as another burst of gunfire ripped through the main hall.
The Nevue's kitchen was empty.
Too empty.
Stoves cold. Knives lined up with surgical precision. The scent of spices still hung in the air. No one had come back for this place.
"Close it," Nero said.
Sunday slammed the metal door shut and secured it as best he could.
Nero scanned the room in seconds. Then he saw them.
Tall cabinets built into the wall—deep enough.
"Nero…" Rose began.
He turned to her and cupped her face gently.
"Look at me," he said softly. "Hide in there. Don't come out no matter what happens. No matter what you hear."
Rose shook her head, eyes shining.
"No—"
"Rose," he cut in, firm. "Trust me."
One second.
Two.
She nodded.
Nero opened one of the cabinets and helped her climb inside, tearing part of her dress so she'd fit. Before closing it, he placed the revolver in her lap.
"Safe," he whispered.
He shut the door.
The group stood in silence.
"We don't have enough weapons," Sunday said quietly. "No ammo. No real cover."
"And they do," Kōri added. "A lot of it."
Lux rubbed his face.
"And they're not amateurs."
Merlin said nothing.
He was staring at the floor.
Then it happened.
Green smoke seeped in beneath the door—not thick, but unnatural. It crawled along the ground like something alive, climbing surfaces slowly.
Merlin went pale.
"No…" he whispered.
He looked up, and for the first time, pure terror filled his eyes.
"That smoke…" he swallowed. "It's not normal. It's not gunpowder."
A chill ran down Nero's spine.
"What is it?" he asked.
Merlin clenched his fists.
"It's a Sinner ability," he said. "A sleeping agent."
The smoke spread.
The lights flickered.
And then—
Everything went black.