GODFORGED

Alex landed softly on the stone pavement, the rooftop's edge now behind him as he straightened his cloak. The night had settled thick over Borven, casting long shadows along the alleyways and corridors between the towering buildings.

He inhaled deeply, calming his nerves. The streets were quieter now, most of the merchants having closed shop for the night. But he knew better than to let his guard down. He had climbed to the rooftop for a reason.

And that reason was still out there.

Moving quickly, he weaved through the dimly lit streets, his boots barely making a sound against the worn cobblestones. He took the less traveled paths, slipping past wooden stalls and ducking beneath drying laundry. He couldn't afford to be seen—not by them.

A sudden noise stopped him in his tracks.

Laughter.

Not the joyful kind.

Alex cursed under his breath and spun on his heels, taking off down another alley. The voices grew louder behind him, boots clanking against stone as his pursuers closed in. They had found him.

He picked up his pace, heart pounding. The city blurred around him as he sprinted past flickering lanterns and abandoned carts. He could hear them—four, maybe five of them—getting closer.

Then, out of nowhere, a hand shot out from the darkness, grabbing his wrist.

Alex barely had time to react before he was yanked sideways, pulled into a shadowed corner between two buildings. He stumbled, almost falling, before a firm grip steadied him.

"Quiet," a voice murmured.

Alex blinked as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. A boy stood before him, barely taller than him, with messy dark hair and deep bags under his eyes, as if sleep was a distant luxury. His clothes were simple, his frame wiry, but his presence was steady, calculated.

"Grey?" Alex whispered, breathless.

Grey put a finger to his lips before glancing toward the alley's entrance. The bullies rushed past, their footsteps heavy, their torches casting flickering light across the stone walls.

They didn't stop.

Not yet.

Alex exhaled slowly. "Thanks—"

"We're not safe yet," Grey interrupted, his voice flat.

He turned and moved deeper into the alley, motioning for Alex to follow. They slipped into a forgotten passageway, one Alex had never noticed before, the air damp and cold. It led them to an old, abandoned horse stable at the edge of the city. The wooden beams creaked as they entered, dust swirling around their feet.

Grey rummaged through a pile of old cloth and tossed something at Alex. A long, black coat, worn but intact.

"Put this on," Grey ordered.

Alex frowned, running his fingers over the heavy fabric. "How are we supposed to run in this?"

Grey pulled his own coat tighter, the shadows clinging to him like mist. "We're not running."

Alex stiffened. "Then what are we doing?"

"Hiding."

The word sent a chill down Alex's spine.

Before he could ask more, the sound of approaching footsteps filled the night. The bullies had found them.

Alex turned toward the entrance. They stood there, silhouetted against the faint glow of the streetlights. Five of them, just as he had guessed. Their leader, a broad-shouldered boy with a smirk that never seemed to fade, stepped forward.

"Well, well," he drawled. "You gave us a bit of a chase, Nairon."

Alex instinctively stepped in front of Grey. "We don't want trouble."

The leader chuckled. "That's unfortunate, 'cause we do."

The others laughed, stepping closer.

Alex tensed.

Grey sighed beside him.

"Needless violence," he muttered under his breath, as if bored. "Such a waste."

Then, without warning, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny blue object.

"On my signal," he whispered to Alex.

Before Alex could ask what he meant, Grey flicked his wrist and sent the object rolling across the ground.

The moment it stopped, the world split apart.

A deafening scream tore through the stable, echoing like a thousand voices crying out at once. The walls trembled, dust exploding into the air as the bullies staggered back, hands flying to their ears. Their torches flickered wildly, the light distorting as if the very space around them had fractured.

Alex felt his heart lurch, his instincts screaming at him to run—

"Now!"

Grey's voice barely cut through the chaos, but Alex didn't hesitate. He grabbed Grey's sleeve, and together they bolted.

The world outside blurred as they sprinted through the streets, the city swallowing them whole. The echoes of the scream still rang in Alex's ears, but he didn't stop. Didn't dare look back.

He didn't know what Grey had just done.

Alex's ears were still ringing, the high-pitched whine drowning out everything but the pounding of his footsteps. He barely registered the world around him, only the sensation of wind rushing past his face as he and Grey ran as fast as their legs could carry them.

Slowly, the noise in his ears dulled, replaced by the crunch of leaves beneath their boots and the sound of his own ragged breathing. He turned his head slightly, his voice uneven.

"What… what was that?"

Grey didn't break his stride. "An upgraded version of Modred's invention."

Alex let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head. "That lunatic. I wonder how many kids' mana he took to create that."

Grey, still running, responded with a straight face. "All."

Alex nearly tripped. He shot Grey a side glance, waiting for some sign that he was joking. None came.

"Of course he did," Alex muttered. He wasn't even surprised.

As they reached the treeline, the city lights behind them fading, they spotted a house nestled deep in the forest. It was old, rundown, its wooden frame barely holding against time's decay.

Before Alex could question why they were heading there, a voice echoed from the darkness.

"You're safe. For the 73rd time. You just can't seem to help getting into trouble."

Alex stiffened.

Then, from the shadows, a figure emerged—a boy with wild red hair and a cocky smile to match.

Both Alex and Grey spoke in unison.

"Modred."

Alex grinned. Grey, as always, remained neutral.