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.