The van was halfway back to the Keep when the headlights caught the roadblock.
Three vehicles, blacked out, engines idling. Figures stood between them—demons, low-rank but ard. Behind them, a woman in green robes. Not Morgana. Soone else. A witch. Her hands were already raised, energy crackling between her fingers.
The driver slamd the brakes.
Cora was on her feet before the van stopped moving. "Ambush."
Mason’s gauntlets glowed. Sera grabbed her crossbow. Derek’s ghosts swirled around him, agitated. Voss pushed past them all, her silver hand unwrapped, the glow bright and angry.
"They knew," she said. "Lillith warned them."
Lucian drew his blades. "How many?"
"Enough."
The witch gestured. The demons charged.
---
Cora phased through the first wave, her sword cutting down two before they could raise their claws. Mason t the third with a wall of heat, the demon screeching as its skin blistered. Sera fired from the van’s cover, bolts finding throats and eyes. Derek’s ghosts sward a fourth, freezing it in place while Dr. Blackwood whispered sothing that made it whimper.
Lucian moved through the chaos. His blades were quiet, efficient. A demon lunged. He sidestepped, cut its hamstring, and moved to the next. Another tried to flank him. He pivoted, drove his elbow into its throat, and finished it with a backhand cut.
They were winning.
Then the witch raised her hands higher.
The ground cracked. Flas erupted from the fissures, forming a ring around the van. The demons retreated behind the fire, regrouping. The witch smiled.
"You’re trapped."
Voss stepped forward. "You’re new. Morgana didn’t ntion you."
"Morgana is busy. I’m her apprentice."
"Then you’re not ready for this."
Voss raised her silver hand. The glow intensified, bright enough to cast shadows even in the firelight. She pressed her palm toward the witch, and a pulse of energy shot across the ground.
The flas guttered. The witch staggered.
But more demons were coming. From the sides. From behind the roadblock. From the shadows between the vehicles.
They were surrounded.
---
Lucian assessed. The team was holding, but not for long. Mason’s heat was fading. Sera’s bolts were running low. Derek’s ghosts were flickering, exhausted. Cora was still fast, but even she was slowing.
"We need to break through," he said.
Voss shook her head. "The witch will just raise another wall. She’s drawing power from the ley line beneath the road."
"Then we kill her."
"Her shields are too strong. It would take ti we don’t have."
Lucian looked at the demons. At the fire. At the witch smiling behind her barrier.
"Then what do you suggest?"
Voss was quiet for a mont.
Then she said, "Go."
"What?"
"Take the team. Get out of here. I’ll hold them off."
Cora turned. "You’ll die."
"I know."
Lucian stepped toward her. "No."
Voss t his eyes. Her face was calm. Not resigned. Not desperate. Just calm.
"This is my choice." Her voice was low, steady. "Let end it right."
"You don’t have to—"
"I do." She looked at Cora. At Mason. At Sera and Derek, still fighting at the edge of the fire. "I’ve spent years running. From Valentine. From the Guard. From what I did." She looked back at Lucian. "I’m tired of running."
"You’re not a coward."
"No. But I was. Once." She smiled. It was a small smile, sad and real. "Let be brave now."
Lucian’s jaw tightened. "We can fight through."
"Not all of us. Not fast enough." She reached into her jacket and pulled out a small device—a silver cylinder, etched with runes. "I hid this after my escape. In case things went wrong." She held it up. "Silver-infused explosive. Enough to take out the witch and everything within fifty feet."
Cora stared. "You’ve been carrying that?"
"I’ve been carrying a lot of things."
The demons were breaking through. Mason’s wall faltered. Sera scread a curse as a bolt missed its mark.
Voss shoved Lucian toward the van.
"Go."
"Voss—"
"Go!"
She turned and walked toward the witch.
---
The fire parted for her.
The demons hesitated. They knew her. Feared her. The witch raised her hands, but Voss didn’t stop. She kept walking, her silver hand glowing brighter, the cylinder hidden in her palm.
"You can’t stop us," the witch said. "Valentine’s victory is inevitable."
Voss smiled. "Maybe. But you won’t live to see it."
She pressed the detonator.
The explosion was silent for a mont—just light, white and blinding. Then the sound hit. A wave of pressure that threw the van sideways, that cracked the road, that sent demons flying like leaves.
Lucian was on the ground, his ears ringing, his vision blurred. Cora was beside him, pulling him up. The others were climbing back into the van.
The fire was gone. The witch was gone. The demons were gone.
Voss was gone.
Lucian looked at the crater where she’d stood. There was nothing left. No body. No silver hand. Just ash and smoke and the sll of burnt earth.
Cora pulled him toward the van. "She’s gone."
"I could have—"
"You couldn’t."
He let her pull him.
---
The van drove through the dark.
No one spoke. The headlights cut through the smoke, the only light in the black. Mason drove, his hands steady on the wheel. Sera sat in the back, her crossbow across her knees, her face blank. Derek’s ghosts were still, withdrawn.
Cora sat beside Lucian.
"He didn’t deserve her," she said.
"Who?"
"Alistair. The way he talked about her. The way he blad her." She paused. "She wasn’t innocent. But she wasn’t what he thought."
Lucian looked out the window.
"She was trying to be better."
"That’s more than most people do."
The van drove on. The city lights grew closer. The Keep waited.
And sowhere behind them, in a crater on an empty road, the last traces of Voss’s silver hand glowed faintly, then faded to nothing.
A/N
Thanks for reading this far, I know it’s mid, but this is the best I can do with the little ti I have.
I Will try in the future to do more better when I have free ti.
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