A few moments earlier, while Leo's group was fighting desperately against the monstrous black sticky figures and the Fallen Nergal, elsewhere, Essa soared through the city night, leaping from one rooftop to another. Her senses sharpened, and she locked onto the relic darting ahead of her, its pale glow trailing sparks.

Dracula and Fallen Camazotz pursued it from the sky, their black wings eclipsing the moon.

"Tsk… this is harder than I thought," Essa muttered, her voice muffled beneath the heavy shadow of her hood. As she vaulted over a chimney, boots scraping, her gaze caught a blur—a silhouette, eerily calm, standing motionless atop the next building, eyes locked on the same relic.

She stiffened. Instinct took over; her hand jerked upward, summoning a rusted, crescent blade from thin air, metal whispering into existence with a shimmer of magic. Wind curled around her, stirring her cloak. In a heartbeat, Essa lunged, every muscle coiling, sword arcing forward... to sever the stranger's head before they could react.

But just as her blade sliced through the air, the figure tilted her head—so casually, so impossibly fast—dodging the attack as if time itself slowed.

Sshshh!

Her weapon swept harmlessly through empty space, not even grazing Fallen Pride's neck. Essa tumbled across the roof, boots skidding on loose tiles. She threw a glare back over her shoulder, locking eyes with Fallen Pride, who stood perfectly still, uninterested, almost bored.

Essa exhaled, shrugged off the tension... She knew she wasn't the target. With one fluid motion, she leapt again, chasing after the relic's fading light.

Meanwhile, far below, Dracula and Fallen Camazotz sliced through the night air.

"Why is it moving faster?" Dracula growled, "It shouldn't be able to outpace us!"

They had been hunting the relic relentlessly. It twisted and darted away, almost as if mocking them, flickering in and out of sight.

Fallen Camazotz pumped his wings harder, but even with his supernatural speed, he couldn't catch it. He shot a glance over his shoulder, his voice low and tense, "Where is Nergal? Did he fall behind?"

Dracula snapped, irritation flashing across his face. "Forget him. Focus on the relic! If he's weak enough to lag behind, he deserves to be left."

The relic shot ahead, veering around a shattered steeple. Just then—

The relic jerked to a halt. Both Dracula and Fallen Camazotz braked in midair. They exchanged wary looks. With a single nod, they folded their wings and dropped to the earth.

Dracula stalked forward, his shadow stretching long across the stones. As he drew closer, he saw the surface of the relic... splintered with jagged cracks, light leaking through like veins of lightning.

Was it broken?

He stared, astonished. He had never imagined a relic could be shattered.

"It must be because of Nergal's last attack," Fallen Camazotz said.

Dracula's lips twitched with disdain. 'These barbarians…' he thought, grinding his teeth as he knelt beside the relic. Slowly, reverently, he reached out—his gloved fingers trailing across the cold, stony surface, feeling the ancient power thrumming beneath.

The relic didn't move.

Dracula swallowed hard, forcing himself to steady his hand. He drew a deep breath, bracing himself, then reached out to cup the relic—

Suddenly, it shuddered and shot upwards!

Dracula reacted instantly. His fingers snaked around the top of the relic, clutching its top petal.

"I caught it!" he cried out, convinced he had finally seized victory after the endless chase. Yet the relic continued to ascend, dragging him skyward.

"Why is it still moving?!" Fallen Camazotz roared, his wings snapping open, but then, his eyes darted upward as a glimmer of silver flashed against the sky.

There—Essa was descending, her cloak billowing, rusted blade catching the moonlight as she dove towards Dracula.

"Hey, look up—it's her!" Fallen Camazotz shouted.

Dracula flinched as he saw Essa's form hurtling closer. He gripped the relic tighter, fingers wedged into the cracks.

Chuckk!

Her weapon sank deep into Dracula's chest, piercing flesh and bone as she twisted the blade with raw force downward!

Tuck!

A single, stone petal of the relic shuddered by the sudden force and forced itself open with a grinding cry.

Dracula's hand slipped. His body tumbled, pulled down by gravity and Essa's momentum, both of them plummeting from the sky in a chaotic spiral.

"NOOOOO!!" Dracula howled, his arms outstretched and clawing at empty air.

A second pulse burst from the relic. It rippled through the world... a ring of blue!

Thud!

"Huh?" Dracula gasped, blinking in stunned disbelief. He found himself lying on an empty road.

He scrambled upright, "Where is everyone?" he muttered in confusion. Just a moment ago he had been falling—now he was somewhere else, alone.

Meanwhile, high above, Fallen Pride stood atop the roof.

She watched with icy detachment as the buildings around her twisted and writhed. Glass and stone warped as if caught in a nightmare. Like shards of a mirror, whole structures seemed to fall—not breaking, but vanishing, dissolving into thin air.

Like an illusion!

Even the roof beneath her and threatened to collapse. Without hesitation, she leapt to another stable perch, boots thudding. Her gaze locked on the relic. It now hovered above the twisting city, suspended midair, beaming a bright, impossibly blue column of light skyward from the one open petal.

The energy shimmered and throbbed, the beam so fierce it threatened to tear through the clouds.

The relic spun, mere meters from her outstretched hand. But she made no move to seize it as it slowly started to move again.

"It's moving… but definitely not random," she whispered.

Elsewhere, across fractured reality, everyone reappeared in strange, unfamiliar locations.

Valra and Azrael blinked in confusion, the world swirling as they found themselves suddenly inside an abandoned game station. Neon lights flickered. Arcade machines stood silent.

Neither could remember how they arrived.

"What happened?" Valra whispered.

Azrael snapped her walkie-talkie from her belt and clicked the channel open.

"Can you hear me, guys? Leo? Raphael? Ophis?" She listened—only silence crackled back.

"Holy cow…" Valra breathed, her face frozen in shock, pointing toward the window.

"What is it?" Azrael spun around.

They stared through the grimy glass. Outside, the city twisted in on itself—buildings folding, melting, and then vanishing into nothing, as if sucked below the surface of a phantom ocean. No crash, no debris—structures simply slipped away, erased from reality.

Thud!

Suddenly, their own building shuddered violently, floors groaning, lights flickering overhead.

"Shit! We need to leave—now!" Azrael yelled, grabbing Valra's arm and dragging her toward the nearest exit.

Meanwhile,

"Did you reach them?" Ophis asked, eyes fixed on Raphael as she fumbled with the static-spitting walkie-talkie.

"No, it's not working," Raphael replied.

Moments ago, they'd been together with the others—now, they stood isolated in this strange place.

"What should we do now?" Raphael asked, glancing around with a confused expression.

"What else, then?"

"Huh?"

She pointed a gloved finger toward the sky, where the relic's blue beam cut through the clouds, pulsing with raw, otherworldly power.

"I'm pretty sure everyone's going to follow that," she said.

Meanwhile,

"What the heck just happened?" Leo muttered, voice echoing in the narrow, shadowed alleyway.

He stood alone... Just seconds ago, he'd been locked in battle with the Fallen Nergal—now, the world had shifted, and he was stranded in the suffocating dark.

He took a careful step forward, when—

Thud!

"Ouch!" Leo groaned as something heavy crashed onto him, knocking him to the ground. His vision blurred.

The world was pitch black, darker than anything he'd felt before—a pressure on his chest, firm and strange, almost as if someone were pinning him down.

"Where the heck am I?" he whispered.

The darkness felt alive, pressing in all around him. Something pressed against his chest, not cold, but warm… soft… oddly yielding.

Veins bulged on his forehead as he tried to push away the weight. His hands landed on something unexpectedly soft and—squishy?

"Ah!"

In the next instant, the darkness peeled away like a curtain, revealing the alley once more... And there, sprawled awkwardly beside him, was another figure—Essa?

"Essa?" Leo asked, scrambling to his feet and hurriedly dusting off his clothes.

"A-arhem… are you alright?" Essa asked as she stood, patting down her cloak.

Leo nodded, flexing his hand awkwardly, remembering the sensation. "Did I just—?"

"We need to focus on the situation," Essa snapped, cutting him off with a fierce glare.

"I mean—"

"We. Need. To. Focus!" Essa repeated.

Leo blinked, finally understanding that the conversation was over.

He'd touched something he definitely shouldn't have—but maybe it was best not to dwell on it.

"What happened?" Leo asked.

Essa drew in a slow breath, eyes glinting beneath her hood. "I think the relic used its powers to teleport us."

Leo blinked in disbelief. "Why would the relic want to do that?"

Essa stared at him,"It's not about who touches it first, Leo."

"Pardon?" Leo cocked his head, confusion plain on his face. "I thought the person who captured it was supposed to be the winner, right?"

"Yes, that's true… but it's not we who decide it," she said, her tone grave. "The relic itself judges who is worthy to hold it. Until then, it uses its power to create chaos among the Masters—testing, scattering, confusing everyone."

Leo's eyes widened, "So that's why the previous war was so disastrous… because the relic just kept stirring things up?"

Essa shrugged, her voice low. "I don't know the whole story."

Leo hummed thoughtfully. "So where are we, exactly?" He glanced around, seeing only shadow and the narrow alley stretching away into darkness.

He reached for his walkie-talkie, flicking it on, but like the others, he heard nothing but static.

He sighed, voice barely above a whisper. "I hope everyone's alright." Then, straightening his back, he grew serious.

"So what now? If the relic wants us to prove our worth, who is left to fight? Most of the Champions are gone—only Greed remains. Why ask for worthiness when the game's only got one player left?"

Essa nodded, lips pressed into a thin line. "That's what confuses me too. My Master built our whole plan around the idea that no one would be worthy—that we'd just swoop in and steal it."

Leo flinched, swallowing. "W-well… yeah, that's kind of what I thought too."

Essa frowned, nodding more slowly this time. "Something else is happening here. I can feel it."

"Something—?"

TANG!

Suddenly, a harsh, metallic scraping echoed through the alley. Leo and Essa jerked toward the sound. From the depths of the darkness, a massive shape lumbered into view.

Chains rattled, glinting in the relic's distant blue light. In its hands, the towering figure hefted a brutal weapon!

Leo's face turned pale, "Talk about bad luck… haha… Ha… FUCK!"

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