The storm above Blackmoor raged harder than it had in decades.
Underground, in the ruins below the library, Hope, London, Raphael, Trent, Stephen, and Daemon were trying to escape the vault tunnel after the last magical surge shattered part of the ceiling. Stone had collapsed behind them, cutting off their retreat.
"We need to move," Daemon said sharply, eyes glowing faintly. "The vault is reacting to something."
"Or someone," Trent muttered, pointing behind them. "We're not alone."
From the shadows, a twisted creature stepped forward—part flesh, part smoke, its eyes burning like coals. It let out a screech that shook the ground.
"Back up!" Hope yelled.
They turned to run—until the beast launched forward with impossible speed. Straight at Hope.
London didn't hesitate.
He leapt between her and the creature, shoving her aside as the thing drove a jagged claw straight through his chest.
Time stopped.
"LONDON!" Hope screamed.
The beast vanished as quickly as it appeared, leaving only smoke behind. But London collapsed into her arms, blood pooling beneath him.
Raphael dropped to his knees beside them. "No, no—hold on, man. You're okay. You're okay."
Hope shook him, sobbing. "London, don't do this. You're not allowed to die. I—"
But he wasn't breathing.
Daemon lowered his eyes.
Stephen looked away, for once, silentAnd then…
London burst into flames.
Hope screamed and stumbled back as the fire engulfed him, burning hotter than any magic. Raphael pulled her close, shielding her with his arm as the flames roared—and then died.
Silence.
All that remained was ash… and a heartbeat.
From the center of the embers, a naked London groaned and sat up.
Stephen blinked. "Okay, is anyone else seeing the naked phoenix boy or am I concussed?"
London looked around, dazed. "Did I… die?"
Hope stared in awe and disbelief, tears still streaking her cheeks. "You were… dead."
Raphael exhaled. "You just went full torch mode and resurrected. What are you?"London looked down at himself and muttered, "And why am I always naked?!"
---
Meanwhile…
Above ground, Jessa, Celeste, Stephen, and Daemon had followed a magical trail hidden in Richard's office. It led through a back passage, behind an illusion charm few could break.
Celeste suddenly stopped. "He's close."
They entered a locked chamber—one Jessa had never seen before.
Richard lay unconscious in a glass containment field, suspended by glowing runes.
"Dad!" Jessa ran forward, pounding on the glass. "He's alive!"
Stephen muttered, "More importantly, why is he in a glass box like a magical Pokémon?"
Daemon examined the runes. "It's a ward trap. Old protection magic—set from inside."
Celeste whispered, "He did this to himself."
Jessa looked up at her. "Why?"
Before anyone could answer, Richard's eyes fluttered open.
He looked at his daughters and whispered, "Don't trust… anyone."
Then the chamber shook.
Daemon grabbed Celeste protectively as a crack opened in the ceiling. She looked at him, breathless.
"You okay?" he asked.
She nodded, her cheeks flushed.
Stephen, smirking nearby, muttered under his breath, "And another ship sets sail…"
---
Back below, Hope was still kneeling beside London, who wrapped himself awkwardly in Daemon's long coat.
"I thought I lost you," she whispered.
"You did," he said softly. "But somehow… I came back."
Hope rested her forehead to his. "Next time, let someone else be the hero."
London chuckled, his voice still a little shaky. "I'll try. No promises."
But in the shadows behind them, the vault door cracked slightly open.
And something ancient, watching, smiled.