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Orin is the storm.
Where Lucien is precision, Orin is absolute force. He moves like a warrior who has done this for centuries, his blade flashing through the dark, his power pulling the very air against them, shifting the battlefield beneath their feet. One creature leaps for him, but it stops mid-air, trapped in some invisible pull, before Orin crushes it with a flick of his wrist, like he’s collapsing space itself.
And then there’s Riven.
He’s losing himself to it.
His Wrath feeds on battle, on the thrill of destruction. A beast with nothing but rage and instinct, unstoppable, merciless. His snarl rips through the chaos as he tears into the creatures with his bare hands, their bodies breaking beneath his strength. He should be slowing, but he isn’t. He’s building, burning hotter, becoming more.
Then there’s Elias.
Elias, who moves like a shadow slipping through the cracks, like none of this is even worth his effort. He sidesteps acreature’s lunge, tilts his head, exhales like he’s bored, and then snaps his fingers. A pulse of magic ripples outward, and suddenly the thing is gone, nothing but dust scattering through the air.
Silas grins.
“Oh, come on,” he taunts, spinning a dagger between his fingers. "Let me at least pretend I need to try."
Then he moves.
Silas doesn’t fight fair. He doesn’t fight clean.
He fights like chaos itself, slipping between enemies like smoke, creating mirages of himself, making the battlefield impossible to track. One creature swings at him, but it isn’t him, just another one of his copies. The real Silas appears behind it, driving his blade through its throat, grinning the whole time.
“You know,” Elias says, flicking a dagger toward a lunging creature, nailing it perfectly between the eyes, "I think Severin’s mad."
Silas laughs. "Aw, did we hurt his feelings?"
I roll my eyes and twist, my blade cleaving through another monster as its body crumples, the blackened blood steaming where it touches the ground. But I don’t stop moving.
This? This is nothing.
Severin should have sent something stronger.
Elias yawns, slow and indulgent, like he’s been rudely awakened from a nap rather than standing in the middle of a battlefield. His fingers splay lazily over his mouth as if he’s trying to be polite, but the amusement in his eyes betrays him. A flicker of gold catches in his gaze, a quiet warning, a promise of something inevitable. He looks at me, and for a single breath, one suspended second where time seems to narrow between us, everything else ceases to matter.
Then the world stops.
Not in the way a heartbeat skips or a moment stretches thin with anticipation, but truly, unnaturally, absolutely stops. The creatures remain mid-lunge, frozen in grotesque snarls, claws halted inches from their targets. The Sins are suspended in motion, Lucien with his sword half-buried in a monster’s throat, Orin’s muscles taut as if caught in the moment before impact, Riven’s expression twisted with barely contained fury, Silas grinning like this is his best day yet. Even the blood in the air stills, hanging like shattered rubies in the dim glow of this realm.
But I can still move. And so can he.
The silence presses in, thick and absolute, broken only by the steady, measured rhythm of Elias's breath. He stands before me like he’s utterly unaffected, like he hasn’t just pressed pause on reality itself. Arms crossed, shoulders relaxed, head tilted just enough that his eyes catch the light, sharp and knowing. Watching. Waiting.
I take a step forward, the sound of my boot scraping against the stone the only noise in this frozen world.
“You’re going to do this now?” My voice feels too loud in the unnatural stillness.
Elias sighs, long-suffering, and waves a hand at the battlefield, at the chaos locked in perfect stasis around us. “What? I figured we could use a break.” His lips curve at the edges, something wicked beneath the lazy smirk. “Severin’s little pets were getting annoying.”
I exhale slowly, fingers tightening around the hilt of my blade. The weight of it grounds me. The weight of him does the opposite. “And what exactly is your plan, then? Just… pause reality until you feel like dealing with it?”
His grin deepens, something dark curling behind it. Something meant just for me.
“Oh, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice a slow drag over my skin. He moves before I can track it, one moment a step away, the next a breath behind me, the heat of him a whisper against my spine. My pulse stutters as his lips barely graze the shell of my ear, a ghost of a touch, nothing and everything all at once.
“You trust me, don’t you?”
It isn’t just a question. It’s a dare. A challenge. A test.
The weight of it settles in my chest, something caught between us, something I don’t have the time to untangle before,
He snaps his fingers.
The world explodes back into motion.
Creatures howl, bodies collide, steel sings through flesh. The battlefield is thrown back into chaos, and the moment we existed in, that single, impossible breath where it was only him and me, shatters like it was never there.
Elias is already moving, already laughing, the sound rich and taunting as he flicks his wrist and obliterates a creature without a second glance. Like this is just another game. Like I was the only one who felt it.