"Come on, boss!" One bandit cheered from the crowd.

"Squash her like a bug!" Another voice called out.

"Grr... argh..." Neiva felt the pressure mounting. Her eyes squeezed shut. The blue glow faded as darkness swallowed everything.

The bandit king smiled. "Yes... that's it... time to sleep." Then surprise flickered across his face.

"Go... to... hell." The words scraped from Neiva's clenched teeth.

A heartbeat of silence. Then laughter erupted from every corner of the cave. The sound crawled up Neiva's spine like ice water.

"Come on, little girl! I don't have all night!" The leader's patience cracked. He squeezed harder—careful not to crush her completely. Not yet.

Neiva's teeth ground together. She clung to consciousness by her fingernails, her mind going numb. Everything faded except that cold sensation running up and down her spine.

Then something shifted.

The pressure around her faltered. Loosened just slightly. She forced her eyes open, expecting to see someone coming to save her.

But he was staring directly at her. His face twisted with shock.

Her aura stopped flowing—like time itself froze. Then it started again. Faster. Accelerating. And as it did, the color began to change.

She was the only light in the darkness between his massive gauntlets. The blue glow drained away, replaced by something else entirely. Venomous yellow—bright as a warning sign.

The pressure vanished completely.

With a grunt, Neiva threw her arms wide. His gauntlets knocked away like a mere nuisance.

"What the hell?!" He stumbled backward. "You're—"

Her fist buried itself in his stomach before he could finish. He flew backward, crashing into the center of the cave floor.

Every bandit in the cavern stared in complete shock.

Neiva stood there, staring at her own hand like she'd never seen it before. "Just like him..." She whispered.

"Little bitch..." The bandit king's face twisted with rage as he climbed to his feet. "You're a Duoron, aren't you?"

Neiva's gaze drifted lazily toward him. Yellow eyes like a snake ready to strike. "What if I am?"

"GRRRRR!" His muscles bulged. Veins popped like cables under his skin.

"HELP THE BOSS!" One bandit surged forward. Others moved to follow—then froze when their leader raised one massive hand.

"STOP!" His command echoed off the walls. "We need to be careful. We don't know what this second aura does." His eyes locked onto hers—violet meeting yellow. "Besides... she's mine."

What they heard next made their skin crawl. Neiva simply giggled.

It was a childlike sound—innocent, almost sweet. Under any other circumstances, it might've been cute. But here, in this moment, it sent chills through every person watching.

Red's voice echoed in her memory—from weeks ago, during training:

"You just need to learn how to recreate something you already felt once." His tone had been surprisingly cheerful.

"What do you mean?" Neiva asked, bruised and exhausted.

Red tapped his chin. "Think about learning to ride a bike without training wheels. You fall like a hundred times, right?"

"Ugh, don't remind me. I was seven. Spent an entire day eating dirt. One of the worst days of my life!"

"But then you get that one moment where you balance perfectly," Red continued. "And once you feel it once, you can do it again. You just recreate that feeling and BAM—you can ride a bike!"

"Ohhh, I get it!"

"Same thing here. Keep trying until you pull it off once. Then just recreate the feeling. And that's where I come in—I'll help you nail down exactly what it feels like when it works!"

Neiva had clapped her hands together. "The human tuning fork to the rescue!"

Standing in the cave now, Neiva closed her eyes. She reached for that chilling sensation from moments ago—pulled it to the surface and wrapped herself in it.

Her aura shifted back to blue. She opened her blue eyes and dropped into a new stance.

The bandit king's eyes narrowed. He didn't move. Didn't attack. Just watched and waited. "What are you planning now..."

Metal plates began forming on Neiva's right arm. They stacked on top of each other with grinding, shifting sounds—building up and up until they formed a massive gauntlet that dwarfed her entire arm.

It grew so big and heavy that she sank to her knees. The gauntlet hit the ground with a sound like thunder.

In her other hand, she created a scythe. Over her head, a metal hood materialized.

Then her aura changed colors again—back to yellow. She rose slowly, like a vengeful spirit climbing from a grave. The massive gauntlet that should've been impossible to lift moved easily in her new form.

Red's more recent words echoed in her mind: "Why didn't you laugh?"

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She giggled again. Then addressed the entire cavern. "You morons." Her voice dripped with mockery. It twisted as she continued, becoming darker. More menacing. "You've made a grave mistake, you summoned something far worse than the Angel of Death."

"What are you—" The bandit leader started.

Neiva cut him off with a sharp gesture, striking a confident pose. "For you, there will be no mercy. No second chances. I will reap your rotten souls, right here, right now..." She raised her scythe and gazed at her own yellow eyes in her reflection. "as the Grim Reaper."

"Starting with..." She lowered the scythe, her expression turning cold. She pointed one massive metal finger at the leader. "You."

"Yeah? Let's see you try it!" He manipulated the earth beneath him. Huge boulders tore from the ground and launched at her like cannonballs.

She dodged the first. The second one, she obliterated with a single punch. Rock and dust exploded in a massive cloud that swallowed her completely.

He readied himself, watching the dust. Then a metal blade shot from the cloud. He moved—surprisingly fast for his size—dodging the projectile. He attacked where the blade came from.

Nothing there. Just empty air.

"Shit." The word escaped his lips as he realized. It wasn't held—it was thrown. A distraction.

She appeared beneath him, her massive gauntlet tearing through the air. He blocked with one earthen gauntlet. He dodged a bullet, but not for free—the gauntlet shattered completely. The impact sent him tumbling.

She didn't hesitate. Leaped forward, changed angles mid-dash, and struck his other gauntlet from underneath.

The second gauntlet exploded into dust. His arm broke with an audible crack.

"ARRRGGGGHHH—"

Her massive metal hand wrapped around his entire head, muffling the scream. "MMMMMPPPPPHHH!"

"Die."

"BOOOOSSSSSSS!"

Crunch.

Blood oozed between her fingers. When she opened her palm, the massive body collapsed. His aura had winked out long before he hit the ground.

Every bandit in the cavern was already standing. Every single face wore the same expression—pure horror.

The silence lasted one heartbeat. Then colorful auras erupted like fireworks all around her. Neiva turned slowly, taking in the situation with yellow snake eyes.

"KILL HER!" One voice broke the standoff.

Battle cries exploded from every direction. Projectiles—fire, ice, lightning, stone—converged on where she stood.

Neiva took a deep breath. Time seemed to slow. Then she jumped with a sharp motion, dodging the explosion of intersecting attacks that detonated behind her.

She landed in the middle of a cluster. Her giant fist came down like a meteor. Dust and blood erupted in a cloud.

More bandits charged with weapons drawn. Her scythe swept through them before they could swing. Bodies fell in pieces.

She kept moving. Dodging incoming attacks. Dispatching groups one at a time. She'd watched Red do this—fighting crowds with his multiple perspective trick and insane multitasking. That was optimal for large groups.

But she had something he didn't. Overwhelming power. Whatever this yellow aura was, it multiplied her strength beyond anything she'd felt before.

Battle cries turned to screams of pain. The favorite music of a certain tragic clown.

At some point, they realized the truth. They were completely outmatched. She was the lioness now. And they were prey.

Meanwhile, Angelo was almost at the cave entrance when Red's voice cut through his mind. "Yo."

"What now?" Impatience bled through Angelo's mental reply.

"So listen—I'm picking up some serious anxiety from our passengers. You should probably check what that's about."

Angelo didn't respond immediately. "Do I have to?"

"Nah, nah, it's cool. Just ignore the empath voice in your head." Red's sarcasm cut deep. "We all know how well THAT went with Jill."

Angelo sighed and stopped mid-air. He was within landing range of the cave now. "Hey." He addressed the captured bandits. They were all twitchy, jumpy. "You're acting weird. Something I should know about?"

They didn't answer. Or maybe they didn't know how to answer.

"If I may interject—" Blue's voice emerged from within. "Perhaps their unusual behavior correlates with our proximity to their base of operations?"

Red cackled. "So much for staying out of it, Professor Blueberry!"

Blue's dignified huff was audible even to the bandits. "At minimum, this particular activity doesn't rank lowest on the moral scale, compared to your other endeavors."

Angelo just rolled his eyes. "Are you jumpy because we're about to hit your cave? What, afraid of your boss or something?"

None of them met his eyes. They all looked conflicted—wrestling with some internal decision. Then one of them broke. "Oh, fuck it. There's no way it'll stop you anyway!"

Angelo raised one eyebrow. His expression stayed exactly the same level of bored.

"You see that entrance down there? It's booby-trapped. Landmines scattered everywhere around it."

"What are you doing?!" Another bandit hissed. "Why'd you tell him?!"

"Use your brain! You think landmines would kill him?" The first bandit gestured at Angelo. "He'd just think we tricked him and murder us before the mines could!"

The realization hit the other bandits like cold water.

"He's got a point," Angelo deadpanned, doing zero favors to their crumbling morale.

"Ha!" Red barked a laugh internally.

"Anyway." The first bandit pressed forward. "The most peaceful way to handle this is if you let us go. We'll lead you to the boss ourselves."

"And I'd do this why exactly?"

"Because!" The bandit's voice climbed with urgency. "If the boss sees us tied up like this, he'll attack on sight. You want any chance at talking this out? This is it."

"He makes a valid point," Blue agreed.

Angelo's head tilted back in tired resignation. "Ugh. Fine. Let's get this over with."

He descended into the cave, landing only where the bandits confirmed it was safe. Red double-checked through his empathy. Angelo released the bindings. "After you." He gestured to the uncertain group.

He followed them deeper into the cave. Torches lined the walls, lighting what moonlight couldn't reach. Just before they reached the main cavern, one bandit called out: "Boss! We have a... visitor!"

The bandits stepped through the entrance and stopped dead.

Blood everywhere. Bodies scattered across the floor. At the center of the carnage stood a hooded figure cloaked in an ominous yellow aura—scythe in one hand, the other arm encased in a massive gauntlet. Under her feet lay their leader's enormous corpse. His head was completely missing.

"BOOOOSSSSS!" They screamed. Auras flared to life. Before Angelo could react or process what was happening, they charged the hooded figure.

She turned. One swift motion. Her scythe sliced through all of them at once. Their bodies flew past her from their own momentum, already dead.

Angelo stood frozen in complete shock.

It was Neiva. But her aura wasn't blue anymore. That hood. That scythe. Just like her. Just like Jill.

When Neiva recognized Angelo, the massive gauntlet slid off her arm and hit the ground with a heavy thunk. She leaped toward him, closing the distance in an instant.

"Neiv—" Angelo started.

She crashed into him, arms wrapping tight around his chest. Her aura flickered out. Her head buried against him as she sobbed harder than he'd ever seen.

Angelo could barely feel his own legs. "N-Neiva... what did you..." The question died in his throat.

She just shook her head against his chest, crying.

"What on earth transpired here?!" Blue's tone carried absolute revulsion.

"You should ask her what she's doing here in the first place." Red's voice held zero sympathy. "And why she ditched her swords and mini-me back at the Redmobile 3000."

"She what?" Angelo's thought process went numb. He focused on those anchor points. The swords. The pocket Red. Both sitting in the CampShip.

His eyes widened with rage. "WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME SHE DITCHED HER STUFF AND LEFT THE SHIP?!"

"I WAS IN THE DARK SAME AS YOU!" Red shouted back. "I JUST CHECKED AND FOUND OUT SECONDS AGO!"

Angelo was seething. But he had no one to blame now. The anger had nowhere to go.

"Tch." The sound escaped his mouth. "Questions can wait. We need to make sure Neiva's okay first."

Red hummed internally. "Make sure she's okay indeed." He didn't elaborate on what he meant.

Angelo didn't ask either. He gently pulled Neiva back and wiped tears from her eyes with his thumb. "Let's go back to camp for now, alright?"

Neiva nodded, still wiping at her face.

Angelo picked her up carefully and launched into the sky. His mind raced with questions that burned for answers. But this wasn't the time or place.

Neiva simply stared at the passing landscape, her expression unreadable.

But there was one person who seemed to know more than he was saying.

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