The world went quiet the second it happened.
*GUSH.*
Alaric's huge green-black hand punched straight through Afa's back and burst out the front of her stomach in a spray of bright red. Blood splattered across the wet sand and into the shallow waves, turning the moonlight crimson where it landed.
Afa's eyes dropped slowly, like she couldn't understand what she was seeing. Her own blood poured over Alaric's wrist, running down his arm in thick rivers. A thin stream trickled from the corner of her mouth, dripping off her chin and landing on his knuckles with soft, wet taps.
The entire beach froze.
Every cheer, every laugh; everything stopped. Phones hung in the air, forgotten. Someone's drink slipped from their fingers and shattered on the sand, but nobody even blinked.
"AFA!!!"
Lyra's scream ripped across the silence, raw and panicked. She took two stumbling steps forward, hands out like she wanted to run to her, then stopped, face pale with horror.
We'd all called Afa names. We'd booed her, thrown trash, hated her guts minutes ago. But nobody; nobody; had wanted this.
I felt my stomach twist. My grip tightened on my sword until my knuckles went white.
"Alaric, are you out of your fucking mind?!" I roared, stepping forward, boots splashing through the shallow water. "She was on your own damn team!"
Alaric's red eyes glowed cold. A slow, ugly smirk pulled at his blood-smeared mouth.
"Heh."
He yanked his hand back with a wet, sickening sound. Afa's body folded like a broken doll and collapsed face-first into the surf, blood pooling fast under her, spreading dark across the sand and water.
"She was just a weak little human we used to get you cornered," he growled, voice flat and cruel. He didn't even look down at her. "She did her job. That's all."
"What kind of twisted bullshit is that?!" I shouted, teeth clenched so hard my jaw hurt. My aura flared black-purple around me, crackling in the air.
Afa coughed, a wet, choking sound. She pushed up on trembling arms, blood pouring from the hole in her stomach, staining the water red around her. Her dark hairs hung in wet strands over her face.
"M-master…" Her voice was tiny, broken. She looked up at him, eyes wide and glassy with pain and betrayal. "W-why…?"
Alaric finally glanced down, face cold as stone.
"Because you're useless now," he said, like he was talking about throwing away trash.
Afa's lips shook. Fresh tears mixed with the blood on her cheeks.
"B-but… I… I always loved you…" she whispered, voice cracking. Her whole body trembled, not just from pain, but from the heartbreak tearing her apart worse than the wound.
Alaric snorted, a rough, ugly sound.
"Stop with that pathetic bullshit," he growled. "Love is for weaklings. Conquering, power; that's all that matters. That's all there's ever been."
He wiped her blood off his hand onto his thigh like it was nothing.
Afa's arms gave out. She collapsed again, cheek hitting the wet sand, fingers clawing weakly at the ground. Blood kept pouring, slow and steady, carrying the last of her strength out with it.
Afa's blood spread in slow, dark ribbons through the shallow water, catching the moonlight and turning it the color of rust.
She lay crumpled on her side, one arm stretched toward Alaric, fingers curled like she was still trying to hold on to something that was never really there. Blood bubbled at her lips every time she breathed. Her voice came out thin and cracked, almost lost under the wind.
"N-no… you were gentle with me… once…"
Her eyes were glassy, staring past him now, back to memories no one else had seen: quiet nights in dark rooms, his huge hand brushing hair from her face, low words that had felt like promises. "You said… you said I mattered…"
Alaric's face twisted like he'd tasted something rotten.
"Shut up and die already, insect!"
He raised his leg high above his head, muscles bunching under scarred green-black skin. Moonlight slid along the jagged edges of old wounds on his calf. His foot came down like a hammer made of hate.
People gasped. Some turned away. A woman pressed her face into her boyfriend's chest.
Lyra's scream cut through everything.
"ZERO!"
I was already moving. The world blurred. Sand exploded behind me as I shot forward faster than eyes could track.
Alaric's foot slammed down.
*THUD.*
The impact cratered the beach. Water blasted outward in a perfect circle, soaking everyone within twenty feet. A cloud of sand and grit hung in the air like smoke.
Alaric lifted his leg slowly, growling through his teeth.
"Tch."
Nothing underneath but broken shells and a dark, empty hole filling with seawater.
Twenty-five feet away, I skidded to a stop, boots carving twin trenches in the wet sand. Afa hung limp in my arms, head lolling against my chest, blood soaking through my coat in a warm, sticky flood. One of her hands had fallen across my forearm, fingers curled weakly like she was still trying to hold on to something.
Alaric turned, red eyes narrowing, lips peeling back in a snarl.
"What's the point, Zero?" His voice was low, mocking. "She's just a dead meat. She'll bleed out in minutes."
My black aura flared to life around us both, thick as smoke and warm as summer night. It poured over Afa's body like living shadow, wrapping her torso, sealing the gaping wound front and back. Purple light pulsed along the edges, stitching blood vessels, slowing the red river to a trickle. The glow lit her pale face in soft, flickering violet.
Her breathing steadied—just barely—but it steadied.
I looked straight at Alaric, voice calm, cold, and flat.
"You don't get to decide who lives or dies tonight."
Lyra stood frozen halfway between the crowd and me, hands clenched so tight her nails left marks in her palms. Tears finally spilled over, running clean tracks through the sand on her cheeks.
Behind her, the crowd was a wall of stunned faces. Phones still recorded, but nobody cheered, nobody booed. A guy in a Hawaiian shirt whispered, "He… he saved the traitor?" His girlfriend just shook her head, too shocked to answer.
