The one retrieved from The Void

"In the end, he couldn't really win," The Negotiator said, his gaze fixed on The Cobalt's lifeless form sprawled on the cracked ground.

"I wouldn't be so sure," Vas replied, his tone calm but with a hint of intrigue.

The Negotiator frowned, but before he could speak, Ken interjected, his voice sharp with frustration.

"He's lying there, unmoving. His eyes are white. He's dead, Vas. Stop trying to spin this."

Vas didn't respond. Instead, he stepped forward, his movements deliberate and steady, drawing everyone's attention. He crouched beside The Cobalt, carefully lifted the body, and hoisted it onto his shoulder without a word.

"Why are you doing that?" Carmilla asked, her tone a mixture of confusion and unease.

Ignoring her question for a moment, Vas carried The Cobalt a few paces away and gently laid him down on the ground, positioning him almost ceremoniously.

"Give it a minute," Vas said, straightening up and brushing off his hands. "His body should be restarting soon."

"Restarting?" Lily questioned, her brow furrowed. "What makes you think that?"

"That liquid—the venom," Vas said, his eyes now fixed on The Negotiator. "It's cold, isn't it?"

The Negotiator blinked, caught off guard by the question. "Yeah, it is. Why?"

Vas smirked faintly, a flicker of confidence crossing his face. "Because I think he shut his body down to counteract the poison. It's like flipping a breaker. He's not dead—just stalled. Give him time, and he'll wake up."

"What makes you so sure?" Jason asked skeptically, his arms crossed tightly as he watched Vas.

"Call it a hunch," Vas replied with a smile that bordered on defiance. "But hunches aside, it doesn't matter right now. Carmilla, you're up next."

Before anyone could react, a low chuckle broke the tension.

"Huh," The Vice drawled, stepping forward with a smug grin. "What makes you think you get to decide the order, huh? Got some kind of death wish?"

Vas turned his head slightly, meeting The Vice's gaze with a calm that was almost unnerving.

"Are you afraid of losing to her?" Vas asked, his tone laced with challenge.

The Vice's grin vanished, replaced by a scowl. His voice dripped venom as he leaned forward. "When I'm done with her, I'll take my time tearing you apart."

Ignoring the threat, Vas knelt briefly beside The Cobalt, checking him over one last time with a quick but practiced glance. Then, satisfied, he stood and stepped back.

Carmilla inhaled deeply, steadying herself as she began to walk toward the center of the grand, crumbling palace. The intricate stonework seemed to mock her with its imposing silence, and every step she took echoed ominously.

Her thoughts were a whirlwind. Ever since the incident at the ruins, she had been training relentlessly, but now, standing face-to-face with The Vice, she couldn't deny the fear gnawing at her insides. Unlike Vas and Lily, who seemed composed and confident, Carmilla felt the weight of uncertainty pressing on her. She hated to admit it, but she was scared.

"She's bonded with Nova," Morrigan's voice suddenly whispered, the sound low and resonant.

Vas's lips curled into a small smirk as he responded in the same hushed tone.

"Are you taking an interest in her, Morrigan?"

Morrigan's tone remained measured, but there was a hint of curiosity.

"That depends. She's a Stormbringer. I want to see how much she's discovered on her own."

Vas chuckled softly under his breath.

"Then I guess we'll both find out soon enough."

"Are you scared, little girl?" The Vice taunted, his mocking tone laced with cruel amusement. His sneer cut through the tense air like a blade, as if he could smell Carmilla's hesitation and was reveling in it.

Carmilla, who was usually brimming with energy and confidence, now found herself faltering. Her usual fiery demeanor felt like a distant memory. She had entered this confrontation with a measure of resolve, but that resolve had taken a severe beating. Watching the brutal fight between The Vice and The Trauma had left her shaken, and seeing Ken's desperate struggle against The Cobalt had only deepened her doubts. Ken had been beaten down, forced to resort to unorthodox tactics just to earn The Cobalt's recognition.

What if Ken had failed? she wondered grimly. Would they all have been forced to fight The Cobalt? And if so, would they have survived? The questions churned in her mind, growing heavier by the second. What unnerved her most, however, was Vas and Lily's unshaken calm. Neither of them seemed concerned, as if they carried an unspoken assurance that no matter what unfolded, they would prevail. That confidence confused and frustrated her.

"Carmilla," Lily's steady voice broke through the storm of her thoughts, soft yet resolute. "Trust yourself. Vas and I have your back."

"I don't see how that's supposed to help," Carmilla replied, her voice tinged with irritation. "Vas isn't even bonded. He's weaker than us."

"Trust me," Lily insisted, her unwavering gaze locking onto Carmilla's. "We've got your back."

"Ha!" The Vice's laughter rang out, sharp and derisive. "A bunch of kids playing pretend!"

"Shut it," Vas interjected, his tone sharp and commanding as he stepped forward. His eyes narrowed, locking onto The Vice with steely determination. "Carmilla is more than capable of taking you down. And if you so much as try anything underhanded, I'll intervene."

"Oh, I'm going to enjoy torturing you," The Vice hissed, his voice venomous. "Followers of the usurpers..."

"That sounds interesting," Vas replied with a faint smirk. "I'd love to hear more about that. But for now, Carmilla is your opponent."

The Vice turned his gaze back to Carmilla, disdain flickering in his eyes. The girl before him looked painfully ordinary—unremarkable in every way. She didn't radiate the power or presence of a serious threat, and he was certain he could dispatch her with ease.

As the two stepped into the center of the chamber, the fight began.

The Vice wasted no time, activating his sigils with a flick of his wrist. Dark, spectral chains erupted into existence, writhing like serpents as they lunged toward Carmilla. The Vice's attacks were relentless, the chains striking with deadly precision, but Carmilla moved with a natural grace. She weaved between the onslaught, her every step a dance of survival.

Despite the ferocity of the attacks, not a single chain managed to land a direct hit. Carmilla's reflexes were extraordinary, her movements instinctive and calculated. Sparks of crimson lightning began to crackle around her hands, faint at first, then growing more vivid as she concentrated.

Vas watched intently, his eyes never leaving Carmilla. She was remarkable in her own way—sharp, perceptive, and adaptive. The Vice's attacks were overwhelming in their volume and speed, but Vas knew that even the most chaotic of fighters had patterns. And Carmilla had clearly begun to discern The Vice's rhythm.

While the chains sometimes grazed her, leaving shallow cuts, she danced through the storm of attacks with increasing fluidity. It wasn't just her agility; it was her growing confidence. Her every dodge and step was deliberate, a testament to her sharp mind and quick reflexes.

The Vice, growing frustrated, increased the speed of his chains. The clinking and whooshing filled the air, but Carmilla remained unfazed. Vas noted the fatal flaw in The Vice's approach—he was speeding up but not adapting his tactics. His arrogance had blinded him to the reality of the fight.

The Vice's frustration peaked, his desperation palpable. With a roar, he made a critical mistake, commanding all his chains to attack simultaneously. For a moment, the air was a blur of metal and shadows, the chains converging like a tidal wave. But that reckless move created the opening Carmilla had been waiting for.

She moved swiftly, red lightning flaring around her hands as she activated her abilities. The first was simple but effective—sparks dancing around her medium. The second was more dynamic: a powerful current of wind erupted with a slash of her claws. She directed the wind to disrupt the chains, forcing them apart just enough to create a clear path.

With precision and speed, she surged forward, using the same wind currents to propel herself. In a blink, she was in front of The Vice. She struck with precision, her claws digging deep into his side. The Vice's agonized scream echoed through the chamber as blood spilled from the gashes.

But before she could press her advantage, The Vice lashed out with a savage kick, sending Carmilla flying across the room. She hit the ground hard, skidding to a stop, but the spark of determination in her eyes remained unbroken.

"She still has so much to learn," Morrigan's voice resonated in Vas's mind, her tone calm yet analytical.

"Well, she's come up with different techniques, but after a certain incident, my grandmother trained her and the others for a while. Let's just say she dismantled most of what they'd developed. Carmilla's now relying on the basics—probably the foundational abilities of her Archetype and her bonded God," Vas replied inwardly, his thoughts aligning with Morrigan's.

"Her battle instincts, though, are exceptional," Morrigan remarked, her voice laced with faint approval.

"I can see that," Vas admitted, his gaze unwavering from the battle. "Her reflexes are sharper than mine, no doubt."

"More or less," Morrigan countered with a trace of amusement. "I want to recruit her."

"Recruit her? For The Scriptorum Arcanum ?" Vas's curiosity flared.

"That would depend on your help," Morrigan said, her tone hinting at schemes yet unspoken. "But we'll discuss that once this fight concludes."

"Fair enough," Vas replied, the corners of his lips tugging into a small smirk. "We'll talk later."