The guards closed in on us. Emilia and I fought side by side, but we were still just kids. We weren't invincible. And the more guards there were, the harder it became to keep them back. My mind was buzzing, trying to read everyone's next move at once. It was too much.
Emilia wasn't slowing down, though. She was moving faster, more fluid, like she was feeding off the fear. The water around her spun into tight spirals, shifting, glowing in the dim light of the hall. But even she was getting tired.
Then I heard a voice in my head. It wasn't mine.
"Byron… Emilia…"
It was the detective. His thoughts were clear, sharp, telling us to get back. But he wasn't going to stop. He kept fighting—he wouldn't leave us.
That's when I made the decision. I looked to Emilia. She nodded, her eyes fierce.
We couldn't let him do it alone.
The air in the Black Market hall was thick with chaos—clashing fists, crackling water, and the sharp scent of fear. The guards were closing in, but something was different now. I wasn't just reacting to what they'd do next. I was in their heads, manipulating them—turning their thoughts against each other.
But it wasn't enough. They were too many, and the detective was slowing down, his movements starting to lag as the fight stretched on. His calm exterior was starting to crack, his focus breaking as more and more guards closed in from every direction.
That's when Emilia stepped forward, her eyes glowing bright, almost blinding. She raised her arms high, and the water around her surged, flooding the room. The pipes above screamed as water gushed out—forming a violent, spiraling vortex that trapped the guards in its current. It was raw, untamed power, like a storm had been unleashed.
The guards screamed, trying to break free, but they were helpless against the force of the water.
"Byron! Now!" Emilia shouted.
I didn't need any more instructions. I fired a shot that echoed through the hall, knocking out one of the last remaining guards who was about to raise his weapon to strike at the detective. The others faltered, confused, disoriented.
But more kept coming. We were running out of time.
The detective moved faster now, his strategy unfolding as he disarmed another guard with a single, fluid motion. But even he couldn't handle the tide of enemies. His movements were precise, but the number of attackers was overwhelming.
And then, out of nowhere, a sharp noise broke through the din of the fight—the sound of sirens. The police were closing in. It didn't take long before a team of officers stormed through the entrance, weapons drawn and ready. The guards still standing immediately surrendered, realizing they were outgunned. The detective, Emilia, and I stood side by side, breathless, as the officers took control.
The fight was over.