novelraw Chapter 373: Not Yet Over
Chapter 373: Not Yet Over
It started at the back of Alexei’s throat.
The next breath came out white. Frost crawled over his teeth as Alexei started to panic. Gritting his teeth together, he tried to push the frost back down to a level he could control better.
Psycho’s voice was clear in his head. Stop holding it back. Stop holding me back. If you want to survive, then you need to surrender. Stop fighting me!
Realizing that he really didn’t have a choice in the matter, Alexei took in a deep breath and did exactly what he was told to do.
He stopped.
His skin turned blue first, his veins dark as ink.
The color spread down his arms. He felt light—no weight, no pain. His body reshaped itself, muscles tightening, what little fat he had was gone.
The skin over his hands thinned until bone showed beneath. Every breath came out as mist, not from heat, but from the cold pouring out of him.
Ice spread faster than before. It wasn’t from his hands anymore—it came from his chest, his mouth, his feet. Every exhale froze the air. The ground around him turned white, then cracked.
The men nearest to him stumbled back, boots slipping. One fired. The bullet hit his chest and fell, frozen solid before it could penetrate.
"Holy—what is he—" one of them tried to say as he scrambled backward, almost falling on his ass.
Alexei stepped forward and breathed out. The frost caught the man’s face. It turned gray, then glassy. The eyes froze mid-blink. The man fell and shattered when he hit the ground.
The others saw that and panicked.
"Fall back!" someone yelled.
"Too late for that little bit of wisdom," Lachlan grinned through the massive teeth in his mouth.
His voice was deeper now, distorted by the shape of his jaw. He tore through the retreating line like a battering ram. Blue skin, black claws, lightning running along his shoulders. When he swung his arm, three men flew. When he bit, he tore through steel and flesh alike.
Alexei moved with him. Every time Lachlan hit, Alexei froze what was left. The two of them cut through the street together—heat from the burning trucks behind, cold from Alexei spreading ahead.
Zubair turned to see them and almost stopped fighting. For one second he looked proud, then threw more fire to keep the others from surrounding them.
Elias stared. "They’ve changed," he said quietly. "Both of them. They don’t even look human anymore."
Sera didn’t answer. She was still working. Blood ran down her face. Her claws were black with soot and gore.
The Saint Eaters were breaking. Some tried to run. Others fired until their guns clicked empty. Lachlan grabbed one of those rifles, crushed it in his hand, and threw the pieces aside.
Alexei stepped over the frozen remains of three men and looked toward the far end of the street. More trucks were there, more lights, but none were moving forward now. The ones who had seen what happened were staying back.
Rourke saw it too. He was crawling, still half-alive. He stared at Alexei, at Lachlan, at Sera. "Monsters," he said.
Alexei looked down at him. Frost climbed up the man’s legs from where they touched the ice. "You came here to kill us," he said, his voice as cold as the air around him. "You should have brought more men. You almost had us."
He turned away.
The men around them didn’t stop firing. They didn’t know what else to do. Bullets rattled across the street, hit ice, hit flame, hit blue skin, hit nothing that mattered.
Lachlan’s laugh rolled over the noise. "This," he said, "is more like it."
He leaped onto a truck hood, electricity flashing with each movement.
When he landed among the shooters, the metal under him exploded. He dragged one man out by the collar and threw him into another. The smell of burnt flesh mixed with ozone.
Alexei’s frost spread farther. It crawled up the sides of buildings, over walls and windows, into doorframes. The entire street began to glaze. Fire and ice met and created steam thick enough to hide the dead.
Zubair shouted from the far side. "We need to move! The whole town will go up!"
Alexei turned to him. His voice came out lower, hollow. "Then we finish it before it does. But none of them are leaving here alive. The General wanted to send everyone a message... maybe it’s time we send him a reply."
He breathed in deep and exhaled.
The frost rolled forward like a wave. The flames dimmed where it passed, then flared again where Zubair’s fire reignited them. The heat and cold tore through each other until the air snapped.
The ground cracked open as the metal around them screamed.
Every single body on it shook.
The Saint Eaters that were still alive were running now—some slipping on the ice, others diving through windows to get away.
Lachlan didn’t chase. He stood in the center of the road, his chest heaving, and his blue skin glowing under the firelight. He looked at his hands and flexed them, claws dripping blood and water.
Alexei stepped up beside him. Frost covered half his face. His eyes were white, his pupils completely gone. He wasn’t smiling. He didn’t need to.
Sera walked through the haze toward them. Her coat was shredded, her steps slow. She stopped between them and looked around. "Anyone left standing?"
Elias answered from behind, voice steady but quiet. "Not for long."
Zubair put out the last of the fire nearest to them. "Then hold here," he said. "We regroup when the smoke clears."
Alexei looked at the frozen bodies spread across the street, at Lachlan’s massive form, at Sera’s blood-soaked face. The world around them was silent except for crackling flames and the sound of ice spreading.
For a split second, he thought it was over... that they had made their point and now, everyone understood what it meant to take them on.
But it wasn’t over. Not yet.
More engines were still out there, waiting beyond the fog of fire and ice.
He took another breath and when he exhaled, frost poured out.
And the fight began again.