Hyan felt his entire body tremble as the sensation of being swallowed by the surrounding darkness overwhelmed him. Michelle’s magical words still echoed in his mind, like a distant reverberation, but the reality he had known had vanished in the blink of an eye. He was no longer at home, in the familiar comfort of the kitchen he knew so well. Now, he was back on 36th Street, a place that, despite being his home, had never felt as threatening as it did that night.

The asphalt was cold beneath his feet, and the moon, obscured by heavy clouds, cast an eerie glow over the empty street. The streetlights flickered, struggling to illuminate the path, but their shadows stretched long and distorted, creating a scene that seemed ripped from a nightmare. The silence pressed down on him oppressively, as if something was about to happen, but Hyan couldn’t pinpoint what. The familiarity of the street had transformed into something alien and dangerous, with shadows stretching grotesquely, as if hiding threats waiting for a reckless move.

Beside him, Tyler seemed disoriented, his steps clumsy as he tried to regain his balance. He rubbed his eyes, trying to dispel the confusion that dominated his expression.

— What the... what the hell was that...? — Tyler murmured, his voice filled with panic and disbelief. He looked around, but like Hyan, he couldn’t find any logical explanation for what had just happened.

Michelle, on the other hand, was unshaken. Her posture was rigid and impassive, a rock amidst the chaos. Her long coat floated in the icy night wind, giving her an aura of cold authority, as if she were a figure not entirely belonging to this world. Her white hair, almost luminescent under the pale moonlight, seemed to emanate something supernatural, as if she were more than human.

— Quiet and pay attention, — Michelle said, her voice sharp and commanding. Her icy eyes swept over her two nephews, completely ignoring their visible discomfort. There was no room for doubt or discussion.

Hyan opened his mouth to ask how they had gotten there, but upon meeting his aunt’s impassive gaze, he felt a knot tighten in his stomach. He knew questioning her wouldn’t bring answers. The fear and uncertainty gripping him made him quickly close his mouth, and instead, he looked at Tyler, sharing with him the same feeling of being dragged into something beyond their control.

His heart pounded, and the cold night air seemed to crush his lungs, as if the street itself was closing in around them. The pressure in his chest grew with every second, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that something much larger and more terrible was about to happen.

Michelle turned slowly to Monica, who stood silently, observing with that irritating confidence that always accompanied her. Monica stepped forward, her movements calculated and deliberate, her presence so tangible it seemed to shape the very air around her. Hyan watched her, feeling a growing apprehension, knowing something was about to happen.

With a fluid motion, Monica raised her hands, the words escaping her lips like a familiar spell. Flaming letters danced in the air before her, the heat pulsating as if an invisible heart were beating between her fingers.

— Arcanum Evocattio! Petalis Rosae! — Monica’s voice was commanding, filled with confidence, as if she had repeated this incantation countless times, her words emitting an energy that reverberated through the entire street.

Immediately, a wave of heat enveloped Monica’s body. Intense flames, hot and bright, danced around her, creating an aura of fire that seemed to merge with her very skin. When the flames finally dissipated, the transformation that followed was unmistakable. Monica’s clothes vanished, replaced by red armor forged in the heat of hell. The armor was a mix of steel and blood, with sinister reflections that seemed to glow under the moonlight, a sight as dazzling as it was terrifying. In her hands, a longsword, as elegant as it was deadly, pulsed with its own energy, almost as if it were alive.

Hyan shuddered, unable to process what he was seeing. He simply exclaimed, unsure how to react, his eyes fixed on the imposing figure before him.

— Whoa! — The exclamation escaped his lips, the sight of Monica, clad in steel and flames, blending the supernatural and the terrifying, like a warrior from a distant time, taking his breath away.

But before Hyan could react, a scream cut through the air. Tyler, his eyes wide with pure terror, shouted as he stared at the bowling alley parking lot.

— Hey, are those our friends over there...? — Tyler’s voice was filled with disbelief and terror, a sense that what he was seeing went beyond anything anyone could imagine.

Hyan followed Tyler’s gaze, and then he saw. Jake and Amelia were standing on the other side of the street, still immersed in the shadows of the parking lot. But there was something else there, something that didn’t make sense. Three grotesque, enormous, and misshapen figures were slowly advancing toward them, like distorted shadows crawling across the asphalt. Their bodies, deformed and twisted, exuded a monstrous presence that made Hyan’s stomach churn. Sharp claws, almost like blades, stood out on one of the monsters, ready to cut and shred anything in their path.

— What... what the hell are those things? — Tyler’s voice trembled, filled with terror and disbelief, as if he were trying to process the sight before his eyes.

Hyan felt his blood freeze in his veins. Fear enveloped him with crushing force, and the sensation that something horrible was about to happen kept him from reacting, as if time had stopped. Every muscle in his body screamed to run, but he was paralyzed, immersed in a mix of dread and confusion. Michelle, however, remained impassive. Her posture, upright and calm, was like that of someone watching a spectacle, not moving a single muscle, not even altering her expression.

— Very well, Monica... — Michelle’s voice cut through the air, low and authoritative, resonating with an unquestionable tone of command. — Show them what you’ve learned.

Monica didn’t hesitate for a second. She advanced with the confidence of an unbeatable warrior, the sword in her hands gleaming with a cold, lethal shine, as if it were an extension of her very soul. As she moved, she seemed to cut through the air, as if her presence were the only thing that mattered at that moment. The monsters reacted immediately, emitting guttural sounds that made the ground tremble, a primal response to her arrival.

Monica’s armor shimmered under the moonlight, its scarlet hue contrasting with the darkness of the night. She was a storm, furious and uncontrollable, her body moving with deadly grace and terrifying precision. With a single fluid motion, she dodged the first claw that tried to slash her, the sword cutting through the air with a hum that made Hyan hold his breath.

In a swift movement, Monica attacked. The blade of her sword pierced the creature with lethal precision, and the monster fell with a cry of pain that turned into a gurgling sound. Its body disintegrated instantly, its innards spilling out in a black, viscous liquid that spread across the asphalt, evaporating under the heat of the surrounding flames. The sight was as grotesque as it was impressive, and Hyan felt a wave of revulsion mixed with deep dread, as if he were witnessing something he couldn’t comprehend.

Hyan could barely breathe as he watched, his body tense like a rope about to snap. Monica was relentless, her sword cutting through any resistance with the skill of a warrior who had lived a thousand battles. The second monster tried to attack her from behind, its sharp claws reaching for her neck, but Monica, with the grace and speed of a feline, spun around and, in one fluid motion, drove the blade into the creature’s forehead. The monster collapsed instantly, its body dissolving in an explosion of dark, viscous blood that spilled onto the ground, staining the asphalt an almost black hue.

The third monster hesitated for a moment, as if sensing imminent death, and Hyan felt a brief wave of relief. But Monica, as unshakable as ever, gave the creature no time to react. She advanced once more, her body moving with terrifying precision, the sword’s blade slicing the monster in half with a sound of tearing flesh. The creature’s final scream reverberated through the deserted street, echoing like a dark thunderclap that seemed to shake the very foundations of the city. The monster fell in two pieces, its body disintegrating into a pool of black liquid that quickly began to evaporate under the light of the flames.

With an agile and almost lazy motion, Monica wiped the blade of her sword on the sleeve of her own armor, the action so natural it seemed routine for her. She then cast a brief but satisfied glance at Hyan and Tyler, her cold, impenetrable eyes. Monica’s face was unreadable, not a single sign of fatigue or emotion. The ease with which she had killed the creatures was disturbing, as if it were something trivial, of no consequence.

Michelle, still standing and silently observing, wore a calculating expression, as if every move her daughter made was a definitive answer to any doubts that might exist about her power. Hyan felt his stomach churn, fear and horror beginning to intertwine in his mind, creating a suffocating sensation. Something had changed. What had started as an ordinary night had now transformed into something much darker, and Hyan knew, with a chilling certainty, that he was trapped in something he couldn’t escape.

He looked at Jake and Amelia, still frozen and terrified on the other side of the street. The sight of them, so vulnerable and helpless, made Hyan’s heart ache. Monica, with her menacing presence, pointed her sword in their direction, a cruel smile beginning to form on her lips with the same speed and coldness of a predator eyeing its prey.

— Now, you two... — Monica said, her voice soft but laden with an imminent threat. Her steps were slow but relentless, each movement a death sentence.

Jake raised his hands, visibly trembling, unsure of what to do or where to go. His expression was marked by confusion and terror.

— Hey, stay back with that sword! — Amelia shouted, pushing Jake back with a desperate gesture, trying to protect him, though she herself was visibly scared. She didn’t know what to do in the face of Monica, but she was willing to face anything to protect her friend.

Monica laughed softly, as if their behavior was pathetic, something she had expected. She lowered the sword, but her eyes remained fixed on the two, as if calculating every move, every expression.

— Relax. I’ll go easy on you... — she said with a tone so sadistic it sent a shiver down Hyan’s spine. The smile on her lips widened, as if the terror of others was the greatest pleasure she could experience.

Without warning, Monica raised her hand again, and this time the fiery letters appeared with a sharp crack, cutting through the air around her. The flames twisted and formed arcane symbols, etched into space, which Hyan immediately recognized. The magic pulsed vibrantly, denser and more imposing than before, as if the very environment were electrified, charged with a heavy energy that seemed to suffocate the breath. The heat emanating from those flames seemed to corrode everything around them, even without touching anything.

— Arcanum Evocattio! Oblivio Aeterna! — Monica’s voice echoed like thunder in the dark night, resonating deep within Hyan’s being. The words carried a power so immense it felt as if the air itself trembled.

The magic manifested in a blinding flash, a light so intense it made Hyan instinctively close his eyes, feeling the pressure of the energy reverberating around him. When the light dissipated, what he saw made him freeze, his blood turning to ice in his veins. Jake and Amelia were on the ground, their bodies collapsed like puppets with their strings cut. But the worst was in their eyes—or the lack thereof. They seemed lifeless, as if something had erased their vitality, as if they were being consumed by an invisible fire. The shadows that once danced around their bodies now stretched, forming ethereal tendrils that sucked something out of them. Their souls, drained by Monica’s magic, seemed to vanish into the vastness of nothingness.

Hyan felt a growing panic, his heart beating erratically, and adrenaline surged through his body. He wanted to run to them, to scream, but his feet were rooted to the ground, as if fear had taken hold of his flesh and bones. The words that escaped his lips were low, almost inaudible, drowned out by the intensity of the moment.

— What did you do to them? — he whispered, but the question was lost in the void, as if there wasn’t even enough air to carry the sound of his voice.

Monica turned slowly, her eyes glowing under the flames that still danced, unceasing, around her fingers. She was calm, almost bored, as if this were just another part of a long, tiresome ritual. Her smile widened, a cruel touch spreading across her lips.

— I said I’d go easy. I just... adjusted some memories. — Her voice was soft, almost sweet, but the sadistic pleasure that seeped through her words made it all the more terrifying. She spoke like a child who had just broken something precious and was satisfied with the deed, as if the suffering of others was a bad joke.

Michelle, who watched everything with a cold, calculating gaze, didn’t seem surprised or alarmed. Her expression was serene, almost satisfied, as if she saw in this a demonstration of her daughter’s absolute power. Hyan felt a knot tighten in his stomach, the sensation that everything was crumbling around him. He could no longer see any way out, any kind of redemption. Something was very, very wrong. Fear spread through his limbs, becoming a heavy shadow that followed him, swelling his veins.