While Seven was busy with Jacob and Jason, Zephyr had his own battles to face—just as critical, if not more so. Such noble deeds by Seven were bound to attract the wrong kind of attention.
The flesh and human nature were mere fragments of a much larger truth. To offer an ordinary human even a fleeting glimpse into the spiritual realm—a realm as chaotic as this battle—would mean their destruction. They wouldn't live to tell the story.
"We fight not against flesh and blood, but against principalities and powers. We haven't quite reached that stage yet, but it's inevitable…" Zephyr mused, his tone casual, almost detached.
His contemplation was abruptly cut short by the swift arc of a shadow blade slicing the air.
Tilting his head slightly to the side, the blade whistled past, brushing against his ear and ruffling a few strands of his neatly tied jet-black ponytail. Behind him, the attack dissipated into nothingness.
"And the brat still doubts himself," Zephyr thought, his lips curling into a mischievous smirk.
"Doesn't he realize how special he is? The opportunity handed to him is a privilege others would kill for. We don't have much time, I have to get him ready."
To the human eye, Zephyr might have seemed insane—twisting, dodging, and flailing against invisible foes. Thankfully, he was invisible to onlookers at the moment…
Well, until he wasn't. Hehehe..
His sharp gaze caught another shadow blade aimed at his ribs. With no time to brace for impact, Zephyr summoned a gust of wind, his supernatural abilities propelling him upward and away from harm. He landed smoothly at a safer distance, his expression now cold and focused.
Before him stood a group of shadowy figures, their intent clear—to destroy everything good in their path. Most notably, the cross-over session Seven was hosting nearby.
Zephyr crouched low, his piercing eyes scanning his foes as they crept closer.
"Annoying, pathetic creatures," he muttered, his voice laced with disdain. "If I didn't need to conserve my energy, you'd all be gone by now."
The shadowy figures—varying in size and form—encircled him, their shared essence of destruction unmistakable. They moved with calculated malice, closing in from all sides.
Zephyr's eyes narrowed to crescent-shaped slits as a wide smile spread across his face. "Bingo," he whispered.
As if on cue, faint, pulsating black veins began to spread across his body. His skin turned a ghostly pale hue, his eyes glowing a menacing red. In moments, his human form twisted into something otherworldly—a hell-spawn form that was both captivating and terrifying to behold.
Sensing the threat, the shadow beings unleashed a barrage of blades, each one forged from the same dark substance that composed their bodies. The air hummed with the force of their attacks as dozens of shadowy projectiles hurtled toward Zephyr.
But he was faster.
With a fluid motion, Zephyr dashed forward, the wind itself propelling him upward. Mid-leap, the shadow blades froze mid-air, suspended mere meters from him.
The sight was breathtaking, a grim work of art etched into the chaos of battle. Yet there was no time to admire it.
The black veins on Zephyr's body glowed brighter as he let out an inaudible roar, sending out chaotic sound waves. The suspended blades boomeranged back toward their creators, piercing them with lethal precision.
The shadow figures disintegrated into nothingness, their essence evaporating like shadows in the presence of light. Zephyr landed with a thud, dropping to one knee as he panted heavily. The black veins receded, his crimson eyes fading back to their deep, glassy black.
As silence returned to the battlefield, Zephyr pushed himself to his feet. His gaze shifted toward the hugging duo in the distance. Tucking a stray strand of hair behind his ear, he smiled—a devilishly gorgeous smile illuminated by the ghostly moonlight.
---
After the battle, it was time to head back. Seven bid Jacob goodbye, casting a glance at the darkening sky. His brows furrowed in thought.
"You're not leaving yet. It's nearly past curfew," Zephyr remarked, adjusting the jewelry on his wrist with practiced ease.
"I was just on my way. How did it go? Are you okay?" Seven asked, his steps already heading toward his dormitory.
Zephyr fell into step beside him, his hands tucked casually into his pockets. He didn't respond immediately, instead squinting at Seven with a faintly amused expression.
Halfway to the dorm, the silence became too much for Seven to bear.
"Zeph, Jason had a message for... us," he said hesitantly.
Zephyr rolled his eyes dramatically. "See? That didn't kill you to say, did it? You could've just led with that."
Seven sighed, shaking his head. "I was being serious, you know."
"Of course you were," Zephyr replied, smirking. "And as you can see, I'm still in one piece. Now quit whining and tell me what he said."
Lowering his head slightly, Seven recounted Jason's cryptic message:
"I moved with grace, the rhythm was my heartbeat. Betrayed, I was silenced in a flash. Where I fell, the roots hold my secret."
Silence stretched between them until Zephyr broke it with a sly grin.
"He said that? So now you'd agree with me that there's something off in this school?"
Seven glanced at Zephyr and looked away.
Of course, he knew there was something off about this school; it wasn't exactly trying to hide that fact from him. From the very first day till the date, he didn't just feel it crawl at his skin; he could hear it call out to him.
Suppressing a facepalm, he fiddled with his bracelet as it glittered under the pale moonlight.
He knew it was a fleeting wish, but somewhere within, he still had hope...hope that he'd had a normal life.
"Piece it together, Seven," Zephyr interrupted his train of thought. "Your earlier visions and the hum everyone hears from the tree—'the rhythm was my heartbeat,' remember?"
"What do you think it suggests?"
Seven's conflicted expression deepened as Zephyr dragged out his explanation, clearly enjoying the tension.
"And the shock you got from the tree that almost killed you?" Zephyr added. "Silenced in a flash,' right? Honestly, it's all pretty obvious. Roots, tree—connect the dots."
Seven came to an abrupt stop, his hands curling into fists like he was about to throw a tantrum...
"You can't ignore this anymore, Seven," Zephyr called over his shoulder as he walked ahead. "The truth is staring you in the face. And trust me, you'll regret not taking action."
Seven stood frozen for a moment before quickening his pace toward the dormitory. Zephyr's words lingered, gnawing at his thoughts.
He seemed to be missing the point. The question wasn't if he wanted to help at the moment...it was if he could.
The only source that could have been some help—the mysterious twelve—disappeared after that day.
And the Urim he carried with him every day remained inert. The universe could at least try to make it easier if she wanted him on this!
---
Later, in his room, Seven settled into bed after a quick shower. The soft rustling beside him drew his attention to Elias, who was adjusting his bed.
Seven's gaze lingered on Elias, noting the dark circles under his eyes and the subtle difference in his behavior.
"You okay?" Seven asked, his voice filled with concern.
Elias smiled faintly, as he always did. "Yeah. Just tired. Today's been rough, and I didn't get much sleep last night."
"I'm sorry," Seven mumbled, awkwardly.
"It's fine," Elias assured him. "Maybe I just need a break. Don't worry about me."
That was the problem. Seven did worry, not for any reason any normal person would, though. But with him, little changes like this never bode well, and it's sad to say, but Elias was the only normal thing in his life, and he'd hate if he screwed that up too.
They weren't particularly close, but he's his roommate.
Exhaling, he shifted comfortably in his bed.
It could be nothing, he has been feeling paranoid lately. Maybe he was overthinking it. God!...he'd be glad if he were.
Shaking off the unease, Seven allowed the darkness of the room to envelop him, his breathing evened out as sleep took over.
Elias, however, stared hopelessly at the ceiling, wishing he could too.