Finish it.
Piers raised his free hand.
No fire this time. Fire was theatrical. Fire was wasteful.
He thought about chemical compounds. About reactions. About what happened when certain elements combined under pressure in an enclosed space with no oxygen to dilute them.
The sphere that formed above his palm didn't look like much. Colorless. Almost invisible. Just a slight distortion in the air.
He pushed it forward slowly, guided it through the gap in his own barrier, positioned it precisely at the werewolf's center mass.
Then he compressed it.
The reaction was silent.
No explosion. No flash. Just a sudden, rapid chemical cascade that had no interest in being dramatic.
The werewolf dissolved.
It stopped existing, one molecular layer at a time, the electrical discharge cutting out mid-crackle, the enormous body collapsing inward on itself until there was nothing left but a dark stain on the scorched earth.
[NULL SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]
[COMBAT: COMPLETE]
[VOID CORRUPTION: 30.8% → 33%]
[WARNING: MANA CHANNELS STRAINED]
[PHYSICAL DAMAGE: MODERATE]
Silence.
Piers stood in the middle of it.
He felt nauseous. Not from the violence. From the mana drain causing sustained overextension of every channel he had. His vision was doing something strange at the edges — blurring, darkening, the clearing tilting slightly.
So this is what my limit feels like.
"You did it, Piers!" Styx shouted, bouncing on her heels. "That was—!"
Her voice faltered when he didn't turn.
The children watched him — not cheering yet. Not smiling. Just watching, like he might come apart at any second.
Only when his knees buckled did the sound return all at once.
Styx rushed forward. The kids crowded closer, excitement bleeding through fear now that the danger was truly gone.
Piers barely heard them.
The world tilted.
"I need to sleep," he said.
—----
A faint stirring pulled Piers from sleep.
He was back in his room.
He lay still for a moment, staring at the ceiling, listening.
Muffled voices through the closed door. He sorted them automatically.
Xylia. Styx. Rigas somewhere further back.
"I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU WOULD DO SUCH THING, STYX!"
He sat up slowly.
A choked sob followed. Styx — trying not to cry and failing.
He pulled the blanket up to his chin... then sighed and dropped it again.
He looked at the door.
Then at his hands.
Then at the door again.
Sat back down.
[NULL SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]
[SITUATIONAL ASSESSMENT: COMPLETE]
[STYX: BEARING FULL BLAME]
[CAUSE: PIERS' EXCURSION]
[RECOMMENDATION: INTERVENE]
He pushed the blanket off and stood.
"Mama, please—"
"Please? After what you've done?!"
"Do you have any idea what we imagined? Kidnapping! Goblin markets! And you—!"
He crossed to the door. Opened it quietly. Started down the stairs.
Rigas' voice drifted up, measured and careful. "Xylia, my love. Perhaps... that potion the enchantress recommended? For your temper?"
Piers paused on the third step.
Noted: Father either very brave or very stupid.
He continued down.
The living room went quiet the moment he appeared.
Xylia's fury didn't vanish — but it shifted, redirecting itself the way a storm does when the wind changes. Styx looked up from the floor, tear-streaked, something complicated moving across her face. Rigas stood near the far wall, arms loosely crossed, watching.
Piers walked forward.
He moved past Styx and stopped between her and his mother.
"Mama."
Xylia looked down at him.
"It wasn't Sis's fault It was mine."
A pause.
"Yours," Xylia repeated.
"Yes." He held her gaze and let his voice go quieter. "I asked her to come with me. I said it would be quick. That there was no danger." He dropped his eyes briefly — just long enough. "I was wrong. I put her in harm's way."
He turned toward Styx.
"I'm sorry, Sis."
He reached up and pressed the back of his hand to the corner of his eye.
[NULL SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]
[TEARS: PARTIALLY GENUINE]
[MANIPULATION EFFICIENCY: HIGH]
[MOTHER'S EXPRESSION: SHIFTING]
The silence stretched.
Xylia's shoulders lowered. The hard line of her jaw softened by degrees.
"Oh, my little one."
She stepped forward and knelt, one hand coming up to cup his face. She pressed her lips to his forehead and stayed there a moment.
"My fragile, precious boy." Her voice had gone quiet. "Always so reckless... yet so pure."
[NULL SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]
[MOTHER INTERPRETS CALCULATED CONFESSION AS INNOCENCE]
[IRONY: NOTED]
"You were worried about your little sister. That's... honestly, very sweet."
She pinched his cheek.
"You're such a good brother. And you admitted you were wrong! How could I stay mad at that?"
She turned to Styx, her voice gentler now.
"And you, my little shadow. You should've known better than to sneak off without telling us. But... I suppose I can't be too angry if you were looking after your brother."
Styx stepped into the hug without a word.
Xylia held both of them — one arm around each.
"My brave, reckless children."
From across the room, Rigas watched.
Not the big grin. Something quieter. His eyes moved from Xylia to Styx to Piers — and stayed there a beat longer than necessary.
He said nothing.
[NULL SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]
[RIGAS: EXPRESSION TOUCHED]
[DECEPTION: SUCCESSFUL]
[FLAG: MONITOR CLOSELY]
[VOID CORRUPTION: 33%]
Relief (Styx protected)
Satisfaction (deception successful)
Guilt (lying to mother — MODERATE)
Warmth (family — increasing)
Unease (Rigas — unknown variable)
[CURRENT ATTACHMENTS:]
XYLIA: 38% → 42% (+4%)
STYX: 32% → 38% (+6%)
RIGAS: 29% → 32% (+2%)