Trouble

The observatory's ambient lighting painted everything in cool blues and silvers, casting long shadows that danced with the rhythm of the distant festival beats. Kaleidos, holding a vial of potent concoction, faced the two enigmatic figures, their silent yet overpowering presence filling the room.

Kael, the taller of the two, maintained his unyielding gaze on the incapacitated Riya. The weight of his attention was palpable, like a blanket of frost settling over everything. The usually talkative and confident Kaleidos felt the chills, but he wouldn't be easily cowed.

"You two lost?" Kaleidos began, the mockery evident in his voice. "There's a festival happening right now, you know. Perfect for some masked fun." He gestured to their faces, "You two are already dressed for it."

But as the words left his mouth, Kael's attention didn't waver from Riya. In fact, Kael didn't utter a single word or make any audible reaction, creating an uncomfortable stillness that Kaleidos was not accustomed to.

However, breaking that cold silence, Lysandra stepped forward. She tilted her head, examining Kaleidos with an aloofness that rivaled his own. "You're quite the comedian, aren't you?" Her voice dripped with a quiet authority, a pride that seemed to come naturally to her. It was clear that she was trying to make an impression, and she was succeeding.

Kaleidos shifted slightly, sensing the shift in the room's dynamics. "Ah, a talkative one," he mused, smiling a little. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this unexpected rendezvous? Friend of Riya's, perhaps?"

Lysandra's lips curved in a small, chilling smile. "Does it matter?"

Seeing that neither of them would be forthcoming, Kaleidos decided to up the ante. "Perhaps you've come to rescue the damsel in distress?" he taunted, glancing briefly at the still unconscious Riya.

Kael remained unmoved, a statue in the midst of this battle of wits. But Lysandra, with her mask of aloofness cracking ever so slightly, channeled her emotions in a way that left Kaleidos unprepared.

With a swift motion, her hand moved, fingers splayed wide. Fire roared to life, dancing and twisting until it coalesced into a long, fiery spear, its tip glinting menacingly in the dim light.

Kaleidos involuntarily took a step back, recognizing the power and control that went into crafting such a weapon. "Impressive," he muttered, eyes locked onto the spear. "But do you intend to use it?"

The fiery spear floated effortlessly beside Lysandra, making it clear that she could wield it with a mere thought. She leaned forward slightly, the glow from the spear reflecting in her eyes. "I hope I don't have to," she said coldly. "For your sake."

Kaleidos smirked, feeling the thrill of the moment. "Well, I always did enjoy a good party crasher." But internally, he was weighing his options. He needed to get out, but with two formidable opponents and an unconscious Riya, things looked bleak.

However, he wouldn't be called a master of deception for nothing. He had a few more tricks up his sleeve.

Just as tension seemed at its peak, the distant sounds of the festival grew louder, the joyful beats contrasting with the chilling atmosphere inside the observatory. The stage was set for an explosive confrontation.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★

-Lysandra's POV

Spinning the fire spear effortlessly around each finger, I hum a tuneless melody. "Hmm hmm hmm." The light from the flames plays around the room, catching the terror in Kaleidos' eyes. I chuckle under my breath, the sound tinkling like wind chimes. Hehehe, this is so much fun~ Just look at this idiot, all terrified and shaky. Honestly, when Kael told me to come along, I thought it would be another tedious assignment. But this? This is pure entertainment. Far better than that pathetic human festival outside.

My gaze drifts towards Kael. Even with that mask, I can sense his tension. His stance gives him away. Always the protector, always on edge. Why's he so worried about that girl? Didn't this buffoon Kaleidos drug her? I'd bet my favorite knife on it.

But as I'm lost in these thoughts, the sound of metal against leather snaps me back. Kaleidos, with an exasperated sigh, has drawn a pair of daggers. I roll my eyes, unimpressed. "Really? Those against my fire spear?" I think, snorting.

But I remember Kael's instruction, to stick to the script. Putting on my best bored expression, I ask, "Why are you after her?"

Kaleidos laughs, the sound awkward and forced. "Well, I guess you could say she owes me a favor."

Ugh. Seriously? That's his answer? I can't help but stretch, arching my back with a sigh of relief. "Good. I was hoping you'd be in the mood for a fight. Technically, I'm not allowed to end you," I say with a smirk, "but if you put up a fight, well... I have full discretion on how to handle it."

★ ★ ★ ★ ★

My focus remains laser-sharp on Riya, trying to detect any subtle movements or hints that she might be coming to. The rhythm of her breathing, the slight twitch of her fingers - anything could indicate a change in her condition. That intoxicating, long dark red hair of hers spills over the floor, framing her face and reflecting the soft glow of the ambient light. Something feels off, my gut is telling me something is off, why did she eat it? 

Kaleidos' mumbled words barely register in my consciousness, but Lysandra's sharp retort does, "Blame yourself for your overconfidence."

That fiery spear of hers is now pointing menacingly at Kaleidos. "We need that interesting ability of yours," Lysandra states, an undercurrent of threat lacing her words. I can sense the palpable tension in the air, thickening with every passing second.

In a rapid motion, Kaleidos dashes behind the table where Riya lies, holding a knife to her vulnerable neck. Without hesitation, I position myself across from him, my blade pressed to his throat. Riya's unconscious form lies between us, amplifying the stakes of our face-off.

Kaleidos, for all his bravado, still exudes confidence. His voice oozes arrogance, "Unfortunately, I don't work with anyone."

He continues with a mocking tone, "Once I get her techniques, I'll leave, and we can pretend this never happened."

My grip on the knife tightens, every fiber of my being focused on the situation. The proximity allows me to hear even the faintest shifts in her breathing.

Calmly, in a voice devoid of emotion, I reply, "You're coming with us whether you like it or not. I can promise you good techniques, better than the ones this girl has." Shit, you fucking moron! You have no idea how important she is in the future! 

My heart races, an unrelenting drum beat echoing the foreboding I feel. Something's off, I think as I glance at Riya, her condition too serene, too tranquil. Why would she willingly ingest whatever that was?

"I see," a cold, clear voice shatters my contemplation. I instinctively snap my head down and lock eyes with Riya. Her irises are a captivating shade of dark red, with pupils of an even lighter hue. It's like staring into a mesmerizing abyss. But the shock doesn't end there. In the brief moment our eyes meet, she moves, fast.

She clenches her fists, encumbered by those large, dark bracelets. Manabinders. Tools designed to suppress mana, their surface glistening with a magic of their own. But even with these restraints, Riya strikes us both with unexpected force, sending me skidding back several meters. I barely feel the impact thanks to my suit's protection.

Fuck, Kaleidos, I silently curse. Those were definitely some Cheap-ass drugs.

Regaining her footing, Riya inspects the Manabinders with a mixture of curiosity and frustration. When she attempts to channel her mana, a visible tension appears on her face. It's clear: she's effectively powerless... My ass. Even without magic, her physical power is no joke. 

Riya's voice, edged with a combination of derision and challenge, pierces the silence, "So you were after my techniques." With a calm motion, she reaches down to grab her sword.

Shit! System, what's her debuff with those bracelets? And don't you fucking charge me for it!

[With the current restraints she has on, she is unable to use any form of magic. Note that she is constantly feeding it mana trying to overload it. Taking everything into account, she is only able to wield 50% of her power.]

Half-power. Half-power! Relief and confidence flood my veins. I can take her at 50%.

Suddenly realizing the absence of a certain annoyance, I whip my head around. Kaleidos, that coward, had fled the moment Riya's eyes flickered open. Not wasting a moment, I bark an order to Lysandra, "Chase after him. Catch that moron."

The fiery lizard gives a curt nod, her eyes briefly meeting mine. It was a good idea to bring her along. And then, like a hunting falcon, she takes off.

Riya, with a stance that radiates pure confidence, meticulously examines her sword, searching for any damages. Even as the tension is palpable, her face remains indifferent, void of any traces of fear or hesitation. It's almost maddening. There she is, appearing unaffected, while I'm attempting to gauge my next move. Just my luck.

I exhale deeply. At least with this voice modulator, my voice should remain steady and persuasive. Clearing my throat, I attempt to defuse the situation, brushing the dust from my clothes. "Feel free to return to the festival," I suggest, striving for an even tone, "I'll handle that man."

Riya, ever the observant one, doesn't reply immediately. Instead, she sizes me up with a lazy, appraising look, her eyes finally stopping at my mask. "Take off your mask," she drawls, "or I'll assume you're an intruder."

Tsk, this woman! I mentally grumble, Playing coy, pretending the drugs took effect when she knew precisely what she was doing. Without hesitation, I pull out my sigil, flashing it confidently. "This is the security personnel sigil," I assert, "I'm being paid to ensure the festival's safety."

She doesn't seem impressed, nor does she seem to care. With a fluid motion, she unsheathes her sword, the blade glinting ominously. "If you don't remove the mask," she warns with deceptive calm, "I'll just assume you stole that."

"I assure you–" I begin, but her bored tone interrupts me.

"You claimed to have techniques superior to mine," she points out, the edge in her voice clear.

Internally groaning, I sense the looming confrontation. She's the type to see things through, huh? Even if I handed over all the details, she'd chase this till the end. Deciding to level with her, I reply, "Ah, I see where this is going. Look, the techniques I mentioned? They're all about martial arts, not swordsmanship."

She sheathes her sword with an elegance I've come to expect from her. "Martial arts?" she muses, the edges of her lips turning upwards, creating a faint smile. It's strange how such a simple gesture can carry so much weight. "Interesting..." The playful tone doesn't mask the glacial chill of her crimson eyes, which have now locked onto mine. Dammit... why did that man have to use some cheap drugs on her? 

Suddenly, her eyes slightly widen, and she murmurs, almost to herself, "What is this?" It's a fleeting moment of genuine curiosity, rare to catch on her.

Heh. I can't help but smirk internally. She's attempting to use a skill to appraise my martial arts. But here's the catch: every single martial art I've used is intricately fused with Ilka's. And Ilka's martial arts? They're beyond the grasp of mere skills or comprehension. Most high-ranking techniques elude simple skills. Even if it's only a small portion of her technique, a skill will not be able to decipher it. 

Feigning ignorance, but with an undercurrent of smugness, I comment, "Using a skill in an attempt to read me is quite disrespectful, Miss Riya. Please, return to the festival. I have a job to do." I give her a pointed look, hoping to convey my annoyance subtly.