"Hazel, Hazel," Blossom's voice cracked, each repetition laced with growing panic. Her breath hitched in her throat as the seconds stretched into an eternity.
"Why can't we leave the school?" Blossom rounded on Oscar, her frustration boiling over into raw anger.
"Ease up, Blossom! I don't know!" Oscar retorted, his own bewilderment evident in his voice and wide eyes.
Abruptly, Blossom stopped her frantic search. A strange stillness came over her as she walked with a determined stride to the corridor just outside the classroom she had been searching. With a guttural cry of frustration, she swung her sword, the blade tearing through the wall with surprising force. She leaped through the jagged opening, a desperate hope flickering within her, only to land with a jarring thud back in the very same corridor. A strangled gasp escaped her lips, her mind struggling to comprehend the impossible.
"What in the world...?" Oscar breathed, his face a mask of utter shock.
The impossible repetition shattered Blossom's composure. A wild look entered her eyes, and she began to rampage, her sword a blur as she destroyed everything around her. Furniture splintered, walls cracked, but when she finally looked back at the devastation, it was as if nothing had happened. The destruction had vanished, leaving the corridor pristine. A sob escaped her lips, followed by another, until she sank to the floor, her body wracked with despairing tears.
Oscar rushed to her side, kneeling beside her and placing a comforting hand on her trembling shoulder. "Blossom..."
"Do you think... do you think they've come for Hazel?" she choked out between sobs, her voice thick with terror.
Oscar squeezed her shoulder gently. "We have to have faith, Blossom. We have to trust that Hazel is strong. He's faced so much already. And if there's one thing I know deep down, it's that Hazel isn't weak. He will survive this... he has to. And he will come back to us." His words were meant to soothe Blossom, but a tremor of uncertainty ran through them.
Meanwhile, in the oppressive darkness of a basement that reeked of damp earth and stale air – clearly the makeshift headquarters of the rival gang – Hazel hung suspended from the ceiling. Thick, cold iron chains bit into his wrists, their unyielding strength a constant reminder of his captivity.
"Where is your little hideout, and why couldn't my boys find it?" the leader of the other dominating gang sneered, his voice a low, menacing drawl. He lounged on a rickety chair, his gaze a predatory gleam in the dim light.
"You know," he continued, a cruel smile twisting his lips, "you're a special kind of fool. I almost ended you the first time you had the nerve to trespass. Yet, here you are again, waltzing into my territory, alone. Do you have a death wish, boy?"
He leaned forward, his eyes boring into Hazel's. "Well, either way, your little game ends now."
~Previously, before Hazel's capture~
"I can't believe I'm so damn weak... not strong enough to protect them," Hazel seethed, pacing his small apartment like a caged animal. Frustration coiled in his gut, a bitter taste of self-loathing.
A sudden, dangerous glint sparked in his eyes. "I need to find their base. See what I'm up against... anticipate their moves."
He knew he couldn't risk bringing Blossom or Oscar. "No... I can't endanger them. I'll go alone. But they'll notice I'm gone... they'll come looking." A plan began to form in his mind. "It's time to see what this Illusion Casting can really do."
With a surge of mental energy, Hazel wove a complex illusion, a shimmering, invisible barrier that enveloped the entire school. No one could cross its boundaries, neither entering nor leaving. A grim satisfaction settled over him. Now, he could move freely. He slipped out into the night, a shadow among shadows, heading towards the enemy base.
His initial reconnaissance revealed surprisingly lax security. A swift, coordinated attack could cripple them. But Hazel knew their current strength wasn't enough for a full-scale assault. Patience, for now, was key.
Driven by an insatiable need for more information, Hazel decided to venture inside the main building. He spotted a window concealed by a heavy, dust-laden curtain. Silently as a wraith, he slid his foot inside without disturbing the fabric. But as he cautiously drew back the curtain, the breath hitched in his throat. All five Elite warriors were in the same room, their eyes snapping towards him with chilling precision. There was no mistaking the hostile intent in their gazes.
Instinct screamed at him to flee. He whirled, intending to vanish back into the night, but an invisible, crushing force slammed into him, locking his limbs in place. He was caught, a fly ensnared in a spider's web. Escape was impossible.
Rough hands seized him, dragging him through the building and down into the cold, damp basement where the chains now held him captive.
~Present~
The gang leader stood up, his boots echoing on the concrete floor as he approached the basement door. "Make sure he regrets ever crossing us," he said to someone just outside, their features obscured by shadow. "Break him, but don't kill him. Not yet. I want the pleasure of ending his pathetic existence myself."
"Yes, sir," a gruff voice replied.
A figure entered the basement, and a flicker of disbelief almost turned into laughter on Hazel's lips. His tormentor was incredibly short, barely reaching Hazel's waist – a grotesque, heavily muscled dwarf.
"Oh, you think this is funny, do you?" the dwarf snarled, his voice surprisingly deep. In a horrifying display, his body began to contort and grow, his muscles bulging, and one of his hands became encased in jagged, obsidian-like stones. "Not so funny now, is it?" he sneered, relishing the shock on Hazel's face.
Just as the stony fist hurtled towards Hazel's face, Hazel unleashed his upgraded power. "Necromancy!" he roared, his voice filled with desperate energy. The cold metal floor beneath the dwarf's feet rippled and transformed into a churning vortex of loose, black sand.
The unexpected transformation caused the dwarf to stumble, his powerful attack faltering. He roared in fury as his boots sank into the shifting sand.
"What pathetic trick is this? You think sand can stop me?" he bellowed, his arrogance momentarily shaken but not extinguished.
But before he could regain his footing, skeletal hands erupted from the sand, grasping his legs with surprising strength. More and more decaying figures clawed their way to the surface, their bony fingers digging into his flesh, dragging him down into the sandy abyss.
Despite his immense strength, the sheer number of undead overwhelmed him. He thrashed and roared, his stony hand flailing wildly, but the relentless pull of the zombies was inexorable. In mere moments, the powerful dwarf was completely submerged, buried alive beneath the animated sand. A muffled scream was his final testament.
[You have killed an Elite. You have gained 300 exp]
[You have leveled up]
"Well, leveling up is a small mercy," Hazel grunted, straining futilely against the chains. "But brute force alone isn't going to break these."
The sandy floor solidified, returning to its original cold metal.
"System, release the illusion," Hazel commanded mentally, the words a silent plea.
The invisible barrier around the school shimmered and vanished, unknowingly freeing Blossom and Oscar from their self-imposed prison. They remained oblivious to the change, still trapped within their fear and confusion.
"Shadow, come," Hazel commanded through their mental link, relief flooding him. "Bring Blossom and Oscar."
Without hesitation, Shadow materialized beside Hazel, his teeth gently clamping onto Blossom and Oscar's clothes. With a silent ripple, he plunged back into Hazel's shadow, transporting them instantly to the dimly lit basement.
"Hey guys," Hazel said, a weak but relieved smile gracing his lips as they appeared. "Could use a little help here."
"Hazel!" Blossom cried, her voice a mixture of disbelief and overwhelming relief. She launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around his torso in a tight embrace.
"Ouch, ouch, ouch!" Hazel winced, the pressure on his chained wrists sending jolts of pain through him. "Careful, Blossom!"
"Blossom, please, let me cut the chains," Oscar said urgently, stepping forward and focusing his energy. His sword ignited in a brilliant, controlled flame. "Flaming Sword!" The heat radiating from the blade was intense, promising swift destruction of the metal restraints.
Blossom quickly released Hazel, and Oscar expertly sliced through the heavy chains.
"Finally, I'm free," Hazel sighed, rubbing his raw wrists.
"How in the world were you captured without us even realizing?" Oscar asked, his brow furrowed in confusion.
Blossom, her relief now giving way to curiosity, leaned forward, eager for an explanation.
"It's a long story," Hazel said, a weary look crossing his face. "Let's get back to the quarter first, and I'll explain everything." He hopped onto Shadow's back, still feeling the ache in his limbs.
"Okay," Oscar replied, and Shadow carefully picked him up by the back of his shirt with his teeth.
Hazel and Blossom settled onto Shadow's back, and Shadow turned towards the nearest patch of shadow on the floor, intending to slip through to their safe haven. But with a jarring thud, they slammed into the solid ground. Shadow whined, confusion evident in his movements as he tried again and again to meld with the darkness, but the shadows remained stubbornly impenetrable.
They all slid off Shadow's back, exchanging bewildered glances. Shadow continued his attempts, pawing at the shadows, but they offered no passage.
"Shadow, stop," Hazel commanded, a knot of unease tightening in his stomach.
He looked at the unyielding shadows, a grim realization dawning. "It seems," he said, his voice flat with annoyance, "we'll have to go through the front door."