The fireball in Alice’s hands swelled until it buzzed with unstable heat, the light painting her golden eyes a molten red.
But instead of hurling it right away, she held it there, steady and simring.
Her smile returned, sharp and deliberate. "You don’t flinch, do you? Most people panic when they see charge this much power. You just... stare."
The masked figure’s head tilted slightly, that blank white expression betraying nothing.
[Why would I panic? Fire only scares those who’ve never walked through it.]
Her laugh ca quick, sharp, like glass breaking. "Ha! You talk like you’ve done it before. Walked through fire, I an. But if that were true, you’d be covered in burns, not hiding behind a mask."
[Or perhaps the mask is the burn.]
That answer made her pause—just for a heartbeat. Then her grin widened. "Now you’re just being poetic. Careful, or I’ll start thinking you’re trying to impress ."
[And what if I am?]
The words were delivered with the sa calm weight as everything else he’d said, but there was sothing underneath them—sothing deliberate.
Alice narrowed her eyes. "Then you’re worse off than I thought. Trying to impress while I’m holding the power to turn you into ash? That’s not bravery, that’s insanity."
[Or it’s trust.]
Her fireball wavered slightly, just enough for him to notice. His voice pressed in closer, softer now, almost intimate.
[Because if you wanted dead, Alice Draken, you would’ve already thrown it.]
Her jaw tightened. She hated that he was right. Hated that the truth of it crawled under her skin.
So she laughed again—louder, fiercer this ti—to drown it out. "Oh, you’re good. I almost like you. Almost."
[That hesitation again.]
Her smile froze for a second, and then she tossed her fireball high into the air, letting it explode harmlessly above them in a shower of sparks.
The light rained down over the courtyard like molten stars. Alice’s golden eyes glead beneath the glow as she licked her lips.
"You think you’re studying , don’t you? Picking apart my every move. But here’s the thing..."
Her hand shot forward, quicker than before, a whip of fire coiling across the stone like a living serpent—fast, unpredictable, impossible to track.
"...cats don’t play with mice because they need to eat them."
The flas snapped toward his legs.
"They play because it’s fun."
Boom!
The whip of fire struck the stone path with a hiss, shattering tiles and spraying sparks into the air.
Alice grinned as smoke curled between them. "See? Now we’re warming up."
But when the haze cleared, the figure in the demon mask hadn’t moved. Not a singe on him. Not even a shift in posture.
The fire-serpent that should’ve wrapped around his legs was gone. Burned out? No. Cut. Neatly, surgically—like sothing had severed it mid-strike.
Alice’s smile faltered. Just for a second. "What the—"
[You play like a child batting yarn,] his voice ca low, steady, carrying easily through the night air.
The pressure around him deepened, that storm-cloud weight pressing harder on her chest. His head tilted the slightest degree, like a hunter studying prey that had just bared its fangs.
[But tell , Alice Draken—]
He stepped forward once, slow and deliberate. His shadow stretched across the cracked stones like ink spilling through water.
[Do you know what happens when the mouse mistakes itself for the cat?]
Alice clicked her tongue, forcing her grin back into place. Sparks danced tighter at her fingertips, hotter, sharper. "You talk big. But if you think a mask and a few parlor tricks make you scary, you’re in for disappointnt."
The masked figure raised one gloved hand. Just one.
And the air split.
The mana pressure around him snapped like a whip, and in an instant, her own flas guttered—snuffed out as if smothered by invisible fingers.
Her eyes widened. "You—"
[Your fire burns hot, yes.]
Another step forward.
[But mine?]
For a heartbeat, Alice swore she saw it—sothing moving beneath the mask, sothing vast, sothing with teeth.
[Mine devours.]
Her heart hamred. She hated that her pulse jumped faster, hated that her grin wavered, hated—most of all—that for the first ti tonight... she wasn’t entirely sure which role she was playing.
Cat. Or mouse.
[Now, Will you hear out or not?]
Alice’s nails bit into her palms as her magic sputtered, her fire refusing to ignite under that crushing weight.
Her pride scread at her to lash out, to summon sothing bigger, brighter, hotter—anything to wipe that calm tone off his masked face.
But her body didn’t move.
Not because she was frozen with fear—at least that’s what she told herself—but because the air itself had turned to stone. Every breath ca heavier, like she was drowning on dry land.
Her lips curled, forcing out a smirk that didn’t quite reach her eyes. "You really love hearing yourself talk, don’t you?"
He stopped only a few steps away, towering just enough to tilt her chin up.
[Answer the question.]
His voice wasn’t raised. It didn’t need to be. The demand in it wrapped around her throat tighter than chains.
Alice clicked her tongue, golden eyes flaring as she pushed harder against the suffocating mana. A single spark flickered to life in her hand, trembling but stubborn. "You want to listen? Then prove you’re worth listening to. I don’t bow to shadows and riddles."
The masked figure leaned slightly closer, his words low, deliberate.
[Good. Because I don’t want a servant.]
The spark in her hand nearly went out at those words.
[What I want... is an accomplice.]
Her heart stuttered, confusion cracking through her bravado. "...Accomplice?"
[You’re clever, Alice. Dangerous. But you waste your claws on gas. I can give you sothing better than toys to break.]
The air between them vibrated faintly, like the hum of a blade against stone. His shadow stretched wider, swallowing hers completely.
[So tell . Will you bare your fangs for —]
His gloved fingers brushed against the dying ember in her hand, snuffing it out without so much as a burn.
[—or against ?]
Alice swallowed, her smirk faltering as she searched his mask for an answer she couldn’t see.
"...You’re insane," she whispered.
The masked figure straightened, the storm of mana easing only slightly.
[Then we understand each other.]
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