Descending into the basement of a construction site is, in itself, walking into the lion's den. But descending into the basement of a site corrupted by Umbra's magic was like walking into the stomach of a beast suffering from indigestion.
The air down there was freezing, damp, and smelled of copper. With every step I descended, the light of my right arm seemed to weigh heavier, as if the surrounding darkness were actively trying to snuff it out.
"Lucas, I lost the camera signal," I whispered, but only static answered in my earpiece. The entropy down there was so dense it interfered with mundane technology. I was alone.
I reached the foundation level. It was a wide hall of raw concrete, supported by thick pillars. In the center, where the elevator shaft should be, there was a circle drawn on the floor with something that looked like boiling pitch. And in the middle of the circle, kneeling and bound, was a man.
I recognized the uniform. It was the site's night watchman. He was conscious, but his eyes were rolled back, his mouth open in a silent scream, while threads of shadow climbed up his legs like leeches.
And standing there, conducting that orchestra of horror, was Vitor.
He looked worse than the last time. The skin on his face was pale, almost transparent, and black veins pulsed in his neck. The price of Umbra's magic was collecting its toll: vitality in exchange for power.
"You came," Vitor didn't turn around. He kept his hands extended toward the watchman. "I knew your savior complex wouldn't let you stay home."
"Let him go, Vitor," I ordered, taking a step forward. My right arm flared up, illuminating the shadows dancing on the walls. "You're not going to use an innocent life as a battery."
Vitor laughed, and the sound was dry, joyless. He turned around. His eyes were pools of darkness.
"Innocent? No one is innocent, hick. We are all resources." He pointed to the watchman. "This man earns minimum wage to sleep in a guard booth. I am offering him a greater purpose: to be the stepping stone for my ascension. His sacrifice will open the rift. The entropy generated by his death will throw me straight into the Third Circle."
This was Social Darwinism taken to the extreme. To Vitor, the weak existed only to feed the strong.
"Not on my watch," I growled.
I raised my arm.
"Tether!"
The lasso of golden light shot out, aiming not at Vitor, but at the watchman. My plan was to pull him out of the sacrifice circle.
But Vitor was faster.
"Oh, no. The toy is mine."
He slashed the air with his hand. A wall of solid shadows, sharp as obsidian, sprouted from the floor between me and the hostage. My lasso hit the barrier and ricocheted. Umbra's magic is violent and unstable, made to destroy, not to contain.
"Do you think Order beats Chaos?" Vitor shouted, and his voice seemed to come from everywhere at once. "Chaos is the natural state of the universe!"
He clenched his fist. The watchman screamed for real this time. I saw the man's skin start to age rapidly, his hair turning white in seconds. Vitor was draining his vitality.
Aureus's Code of Conduct exploded in my mind: Protection of Innocents. If that man died, it wouldn't just be a tragedy; it would be a failure of my faith. My power would weaken.
I couldn't play defensively. But I couldn't attack to kill. The dilemma burned.
"Think, Dayanne, think!" I shouted to myself.
I looked at the structure of the place. Concrete pillars. The unfinished ceiling.
Aureus's magic creates constructions of solid light. Barriers.
I ran. Not toward the circle, but toward the pillar closest to Vitor.
"What are you going to do? Hit me with a beam?" Vitor mocked, absorbing more power. His aura was becoming gigantic, monstrous.
"No," I replied, sliding in the dust and slapping my hand of light onto the central pillar directly above Vitor. "I'm going to give you a ceiling."
I concentrated all my Fervor. I remembered Goiás, I remembered the lady on the subway, I remembered the dying watchman.
"Expanded Bulwark!"
Instead of creating a shield in front of me, I projected the light into the concrete and, at a sharp angle, expanded the barrier violently downward.
I didn't attack Vitor. I attacked the space between him and the watchman.
A guillotine of solid light descended from the ceiling, severing the visual and mystical connection between the sorcerer and his victim. The barrier hit the ground with a boom, splitting the circle in half.
The connection was cut.
The flow of vitality stopped abruptly. Umbra's magic, unstable and hungry, does not like to be interrupted. With nowhere to go, the entropy energy Vitor was pulling ricocheted.
The risk of magic going out of control.
"No!" Vitor screamed.
The shadow he was manipulating twisted and "bit" his hand. Vitor's left arm burst into wounds, blood gushing not from a cut, but from instant necrosis. He was thrown backward by his own sorcery, slamming against the back wall.
The pitch circle dissolved. The watchman fell sideways, breathing hard, but alive. Aged, weak, but alive.
I ran to the man, kneeling. I placed my human hand on his wrist. Weak, but stable.
I looked to the back of the hall. Vitor was standing up, clutching his injured arm. His face was a mask of hate and pain. A lot of pain.
"You..." he spat blood. "You ruined everything."
"I maintained Order," I replied, my arm of light glowing intensely, fueled by the act of faith of saving the man. I felt strong. The Fervor bubbled, pushing me almost halfway to the next Circle.
Vitor looked at the wound on his own arm, then at me. He knew that, injured and without the sacrifice, he couldn't beat my barrier now.
"This isn't over, cowgirl. The family has resources. We're going to buy this city... and bury you in it."
The shadows wrapped around him, not as an attack, but as an escape. He merged into the darkness of the corner of the room and vanished, leaving behind only the smell of blood and failure.
I sighed, my whole body shaking as the adrenaline crashed.
"It's alright, sir," I said to the watchman, who looked at me with terror. "The ambulance is coming."
I grabbed the radio, which was now crackling less.
"Lucas? You copy?"
"Dayanne! The energy spike is gone! Are you alive?"
I looked at my arm of light. It was intact. My conscience was clean.
"I'm alive. And so is the hostage." I looked up at the concrete ceiling. "But Vitor got away. And I think I just declared war on the Alencar construction company."
"Well..." Lucas laughed nervously on the other end. "At least we know where they live."
As I waited for help, I stroked the solid light of my arm. Vitor wanted the future at any cost. I just wanted to ensure there was someone alive to see that future arrive.