She couldn't do it.

Too weak.

Pathetic.

You didn't protect me.

Lesley blinked. Her finger lay on the trigger.

Gusion kneeled in front of her, his face serene, expression blank, and his soul bared to her.

And in her heart, frozen as it was, she knew she couldn't kill him. Even if it cost the world. She couldn't do it.

An image of Harley's corpse flickered in front of her eyes, and she could hear Dyrroth's slimy voice whispering at her to kill him.

Her finger rested on the trigger. She couldn't pull it.

She let the rifle hit the floor with a thud.

Gusion's eyes twitched for a second, and then they burst open, and his pale blue eyes looking at her with confusion was what sent her over the edge.

A lone tear fell from her right eye. Then another. And then she was crying, because she'd just doomed her brother, she'd failed, weak, worthless, burden, failure-

She was dimly aware of two arms hugging her, and Gusion's voice rang out in her head. You would have killed me.

"Shh, Lesley, it's fine, I'm here, it's fine," Gusion's voice whispered in her ear as his hand ran through her hair soothingly and somehow that made it worse because she'd tried to kill him, she didn't deserve his kindness, she was a horrible friend-

"I'm sorry," the words tumbled out of her mouth through her tears, and a new wave of sobs wracked her body and she cried into Gusion's chest.

"Why are-why are you helping me? I tried to kill you!"

"Because you're what matters the most to me. Not Helcurt. Not myself. But you. I told you. If you want me dead, by all means, kill me-"

"Shut up," she growled through her tears. "I can't kill you. But I can't lose Harley either."

"What's Harley got to do with this?"

You didn't protect me.

Before she knew it, she burst into another fit of tears, and Gusion hugged her close again, and she didn't deserve him, she really didn't-

"You don't have to talk about it, it's fine, calm down, Les. I've got you. You got this. You'll be fine."

Lesley peered up at him, and the magnitude of the situation hit her; Dyrroth still had Harley. And she couldn't kill Gusion. She couldn't choose between her brother and her best friend-calling Gusion her best friend felt strange suddenly, because they had crossed that, now, but she didn't know what to call him.

"Hey there, Les. Are you fine?"

"Yeah," she replied, pulling away from his hug and picking up the rifle and wiping her tears away.

Gusion nodded. "I'm assuming that you're not going to try and kill me now."

"I'm not. Feel free to leave. And I'm sorry about-"

"No, that was justified. I kept a secret that endangered you. I'm sorry. You had every right to be angry."

Lesley nodded.

"Stay safe, Les."

Lesley numbly nodded, walking away.

Gusion stared after her, the hole in his heart widening with every step she took.

He didn't know what to do now. Lesley hadn't told him what was wrong, and she didn't look fine.

And he wasn't sure what to do when she'd broken down after he'd decided to let her kill him.

Lesley walked out of his sight and Gusion sagged, exhaustion seeping into his bones.

A hissing noise came from behind him and Gusion turned around to see Helcurt gesturing at him.

Numbly, Gusion walked over.

"We've got a Kastiyan to kill, and we don't have forever to do it," Helcurt snarled as Gusion's thoughts whirled, with a pink-haired girl with a deadly sniper and a disarming smile at their centre.

"Helcurt," he spoke, his voice laden. "I can't leave her."

"What?" Helcurt turned to him. "What do you mean, you can't leave her?"

"After we kill Zhask," Gusion muttered. "We can't leave her. Dyrroth might kill her. Scratch that, he will try to kill her. We can't leave her to die. I can't leave her-"

"Gusion-"

"We can't leave her alone, Dyrroth'll kill her-"

"Then we kill him first."

Gusion turned to Helcurt.

"If what you're saying is true, then we kill Dyrroth first. He'll come after her. We'll wait."

"We're using Lesley as bait?"

"We're not-okay, maybe we are using Lesley as bait, but if we plan this correctly, she shouldn't be in any danger, considering that between the both of us and her little mage brother, we could take Dyrroth."

Gusion steeled himself and shut his eyes and counted to five. Once he was done, he opened them. "Let's get Zhask."

Helcurt smiled. "Let's go."

Lancelot wasn't unaccustomed to death.

Guinevere's death had nearly broken him-he'd felt hollowed out and empty for months afterward. Seeing Eudora and Hilda fall hadn't had as much of an effect as it should have had on him.

No, what disturbed him more was the ease with which Dyrroth had slain them.

Hilda was a beast and Eudora was one of the most magically skilled people he'd ever had a chance of knowing. And Dyrroth had taken them out very quickly.

They needed him dead. And fast.

The sound of metal boots jolted him from his reverie and he looked up as Alucard stalked towards him, a grave expression etched into his face.

Lancelot straightened up.

"Cecilion was in contact with Dyrroth. So was Carmilla. We found it on Cecilion's laptop."

Lancelot gritted his teeth. "So who killed them?"

Alucard shifted nervously. "Yeah, well, the evidence still does point to Gusion as the killer. Which means that maybe he might not have been working with Dyrroth."

Lancelot arched an eyebrow. "I saw the Shadowbringer."

"And as the only known witness of it, other than Tigreal, who is-rather unfortunately, incapacitated-and Lesley, who admitted to not having seen Gusion interact with the Shadowbringer, your input is crucial to determining whether Gusion is on our side-helping to eliminate enemy spies-or on their side." Silvanna strode in the room and Lancelot and Alucard immediately curtsied.

Alucard winced as the handle of his blade jabbed into his midsection.

Silvanna visibly held back a smile.

Lancelot straightened up.

Silvanna pulled over a chair and sat down, waving a hand. Lancelot sat back down onto the chair he had been in. Alucard tried to sit down on a nonexistent chair and hit the floor hard, before sitting cross-legged in the very same spot.

"Was the Shadowbringer friendly with Gusion?"

Lancelot screwed up his face. "They were working together, and they did communicate to defend each other. The Shadowbringer also assisted him, so yes, I would say they were friends."

Silvanna nodded. Alucard looked at both of them expectantly.

"Would Gusion have turned to the dark side?"

Lancelot blinked.

"And I'm not asking in light of what you know now. I'm asking that before you knew all of this, before the Shadowbringer, would Gusion have turned to Alice?"

Lancelot swallowed. Gusion was undoubtedly loyal, but he had also hated limits. And there had been that rebellious phase where he had tried to find out spells to unlock eldritch gods for fun.

But then he recalled the emotion in Gusion's eyes whenever he'd seen the younger boy amongst his friends. He also remembered the dead-eyed stare he'd seen when they both were younger, back when the Paxleys and Baroques still had their heirs, and he knew that Gusion would not have given up that emotion. Not for anything.

"No."

Silvanna nodded grimly and stood up and both Alucard and Lancelot followed her lead.

"For all intents and purposes, Gusion Paxley hasn't killed anyone that doesn't want us dead, and therefore, he might not be a criminal. However, if we release the news, that'll be a diplomatic fiasco for us, especially now. If you guys find Gusion, don't kill him. Just bring him in. Everyone else receives the same instructions."

Alucard and Lancelot nodded.

Silvanna strode out of the room, followed by Alucard, leaving Lancelot alone to his thoughts.

Lesley got off her bike and strode into her house, her eyes dried up and her emotions in turmoil.

She set the rifle on the table just as "I'm So Sorry" blared from the phone and she held it up to her ear. "Dyrroth."

"Lesley," Dyrroth snarled. "Is Gusion dead yet? Because you've only got a few hours left-"

"I'm not killing Gusion."

A silence.

"What?"

"You heard me, Dyrroth."

"What sort of sister are you? I'm holding your brother hostage and you're refusing to kill some guy for him?"

"Yes."

"What, just because he's adopted, you don't care for-"

"You don't have the guts or the ability."

Dyrroth audibly spluttered. "What?"

"You don't have the guts or the ability to kill Harley. You couldn't kill Gusion yourself, so you sent me to do it. You don't have the capability to kill me, so you kidnapped a kid-"

"What'd you say?" the hiss in Dyrroth's voice was low, and for a second Lesley thought she'd gone too far.

"I said you don't have the capability to kill me."

The sound of heavy breathing echoed from the other side.

"I'LL KILL YOU!" Dyrroth burst out. "I'LL KILL YOU, AND THEN I'LL KILL YOUR MISERABLE LITTLE BROTHER AND I'LL KILL YOUR FRIEND AND I'LL KILL EVERYONE YOU KNOW!"

"Come at me, you sorry excuse for a monster," Lesley bit back, her heart pounding.

A monstrous primal roar sounded over the phone and the line went dead.

Lesley dropped the phone. Harley was safe for now. If she could defeat Dyrroth, she could force him to tell her where her brother was.

She knew it was a horrible plan. But she also knew she didn't have a choice that didn't lead to betraying her best friend or letting her brother die.

Zhask was cooking.

Human cuisine was rather superior to Kastiyan cuisine, in Zhask's opinion. He'd found it way too bland for his tastes, and when he discovered chili powder on Earth, he was absolutely delighted, and used it in excess both to eat and to torture prisoners with by throwing it in their eyes.

Too bad he couldn't do the same with the little brat. Dyrroth wanted him dead through starvation.

Zhask heard the sound of a car pulling up and frowned. He wasn't expecting any visitors right now.

He turned the stove off and stalked out of the kitchen, two of his eyes drifting to the window and the other two locating his staff.

He picked it up just as the doorbell rang.

Hopefully, it was the murderer that had slaughtered their squadron-Zhask's last mission. Only he remained of the four warriors that were assigned to the task.

Staff at the ready, poised to strike, Zhask neared the door.

"Hey, Zhask? Dyrroth sent me over, he said I was supposed to be guarding you tonight."

"Guarding me from what?" Zhask grunted, miffed that Dyrroth thought he needed protection. He was a war general, for god's sake. Yes, he might be retired, but he'd ambushed and incapacitated Tigreal. Surely that had to count for something.

"Whoever killed Cecilion and Carmilla?"

Zhask sneered and pulled the door open to find the Paxley brat and a Shadowbringer with him.

Three of Zhask's eyes widened. "You really did defect, then? I didn't believe it when I first heard."

"I hope the Shadowbringer's proof enough," Gusion replies, meeting his gaze.

Zhask nodded and he looked down at the Shadowbringer.

It grinned back.

"I'm Helcurt."

"I've never heard of you."

"I wouldn't expect you to."

Zhask grunted and let them walk past him, then shut the door behind them.

"Y'all fellas want dinner?"

"Yeah, sure," Gusion answered as he sat down on the sofa with a poised grace. Helcurt sprawled across the remaining space.

The telephone rang and Zhask snarled. "Whoever it is, never lets me finish my dinner. Hello?"

Dyrroth's voice crackled. "Zhask, you might wanna take care. The murderers have struck night after night."

"Yeah, yeah, sure."

"If you need any protection, feel free to inform me."

"I think what you've sent is already enough."

A pause. "I didn't send anything."

"What?"

"Who said I sent them?"

"Claws and knife."

A sharp intake of breath.

"Zhask, those two are the killers. They've come for you."

"Great, I'll handle it."

"Zhask, no-"

Zhask set the telephone down just as his free hand's long fingers wrapped around a slender wrist.

He turned around to see the Paxley brat wince as Zhask twisted his arm.

A grin twisted onto the Kastiyan's face as all eight of his eyes flared open, as Zhask tightened his grip and Gusion let out an involuntary yelp.

Darkness flooded his vision and Zhask was forced to relinquish his grasp as a howling, clawing mass of shadows landed on him, slashing wildly at his face.

Zhask grabbed blindly at Helcurt and ripped him off his face, and Helcurt's claws left deep gouges in Zhask's face.

Zhask snarled and threw the Shadowbringer up, and he bounced off the ceiling just as the Paxley brat buried a knife into Zhask's abdomen, and pain shot through all directions.

Helcurt's thumb claws latched on Zhask's shoulder and Zhask hissed as Helcurt pulled himself up.

Zhask growled and grabbed the Shadowbringer's dangling tail with his right hand and yanked him away before swinging him like a racket into the Paxley boy.

Both of them went crashing into the glass cupboard on the left corner of the hall and the sound of glass shattering filled Zhask's ears as he picked up his staff and faced the two assassins, who were getting into fighting stances.

"You want me?" Zhask snarled, the familiar rush of battle flowing through him, infusing his staff with power. "Come and get me."

Gusion's mouth was dry.

The element of surprise had been their only hope against the Kastiyan general.

A drawn-out fight was not what they'd planned on.

Helcurt snarled next to him as Zhask's staff charged up with purple energy crackling at its tip.

"On my mark," Gusion muttered. "Three."

They both charged at Zhask who raised his staff and a creature twisted up from the ground. Gusion recognised it as Zhask's greatest weapon-the Nightmaric Spawn-right before it unleashed a bolt of purple electricity right into his chest.

Gusion staggered and another bolt hit him and the Spawn followed up with a sustained blast. Pain obliterated his other senses as Gusion fell to his knees and howled in agony as he saw Helcurt pounce on Zhask's face.

Zhask tried to grab on to Helcurt's tail but it danced neatly out of reach before twisting up as pink stingers exploded from it and ravaged Zhask's chest.

Zhask howled and staggered back and Helcurt continued hacking away at his face. Gusion tried to move towards him but the electricity hitting him amplified and Gusion bit down on his tongue so hard he drew blood.

Zhask grabbed Helcurt and Helcurt slipped neatly out of his grip before crawling over his shoulder and down his back like an overgrown spider. Gusion saw Zhask thrash about and scream and swing his staff as Helcurt continued twisting out of his reach, slashing with his claws and hanging on to Zhask like a vicious monkey.

But every cut was ineffective as the moment Helcurt's claws left, the flesh began to regenerate with the skin following closely behind, faster than anyone else they'd encountered, even Dyrroth.

The Nightmaric Spawn's assault stopped as it wailed and shriveled up, falling back into the floor and Gusion fell weakly onto his side, watching as Helcurt and Zhask kept each other occupied, neither able to kill the other, locked in combat.

Zhask couldn't hit Helcurt.

But when couldn't Helcurt kill him?

Helcurt's movements momentarily slowed. Zhask's fingers looped around his tail and Gusion pushed himself up.

Helcurt yanked his spiked tail through and moved faster as blue blood dripped from Zhask's hand and the warlord hissed.

And Gusion had his answer. Helcurt couldn't use his main attack, the most devastating weapon in his arsenal-his deadly poisoned stingers. They were too slow. The moment Helcurt tried it, Zhask would catch him.

He can't keep this up, Gusion thought, as Helcurt hacked again at Zhask's thigh and Zhask twisted his back but Helcurt scurried just as the wound closed up swiftly.

An ever-regenerating beast.

The lone thought recalled a snatch of conversation, unbidden, from what seemed like an eternity ago.

More specifically, a certain conversation with Lesley.

It had been just after midnight, about a couple of years ago, and they'd both been relaxing at her house after watching a movie when Gusion had finally asked her.

"How did you kill the Shadowbringer?"

A creature of legend, shrouded in myth and shadows, a murderous, vicious beast, that could never be taken down.

Alucard, the greatest monster hunter of the current day and age, and probably in all of history as well, had given up first, citing the hunt as hopeless.

Two days later, Lesley had returned, with the beast's head as proof, to the village Alucard and her had been in for the mission.

"You're not a better hunter than Alucard. And you can't know more than him."

Lesley had laughed as she lounged on the sofa, and the melody tugged at Gusion's heartstrings-both then and now. "I'm not a better hunter, but I was more determined. I had that drive. This was one in many of his missions. This was the one I wanted. This was the one I needed."

Gusion had frowned. "But how did you do it? Everyone that's gone after it injured it, but it always came back. They could never pursue it. How did you do it?"

A smirk had emerged on Lesley's face. "A Shadowbringer's strength is mostly in close quarters. Its strongest attack is to turn around and fight. Every hunter-Roger, Alucard, and the countless others that tried before them-never stayed at a distance. Always brawling with it, and when it slipped away, bleeding heavily, they never made sure it died, because they themselves were too injured."

The puzzle pieces had leapt together in Gusion's mind as he pondered it, sleep tugging at the edges of his eyes. "You're a marksman. You just kept fighting it from afar, injuring it, until it died?"

Lesley sighed. "If only it was that easy. That beast could regenerate quickly. Not as fast as, say, Yve, or Zhask, but it could regenerate from my bullets. I could only slow it down and weaken it."

"But then?"

"Then I thought-how did Tigreal, or the Resistance, kill the people on the darkside? It's simple-just like how they countered Alucard's lifesteal. You deal more damage than they can recover in a single attack."

"Like my daggers?"

"Yes. Gord calls it 'burst damage'. He said you'd be a specialist at it."

Gusion had blinked. "Me?"

"Your five daggers. Individually, nothing special. But when all of them hit the target at once? Ooh, that's difficult to recover from."

"Same with your bullet, when you dismiss your camouflage."

"It wasn't enough. By the time I racked up enough attacks for my rifle to hit its peak form-the creature ran again. But your daggers already cause severe injuries in your first assault."

"So?"

"So the trick is, to kill that ever-regenerating beast, you need to give it an injury it cannot recover from. You need to injure it continuously faster than it regenerates."

Gusion's eyes widened.

They needed to hit Zhask hard enough in a short amount of time, faster than his regeneration.

Burst damage.

Gord had called it his specialty. And Helcurt's stingers would work too-he had nearly killed Gusion with that single attack.

He just needed to buy time for Helcurt to charge up and strike.

"I can do that," he breathed to himself.

Gusion staggered to his feet as magic swirled in his palm, forming a long, thin blade.

Zhask shrugged and Helcurt dodged again.

Gusion hurled the spike at Zhask and it sliced through the air with a whistling noise, and two of Zhask's eyes flared as he pivoted towards it.

His forearm swung up and knocked the knife up in the air just as the tip of its blade was centimetres away from his face.

The knife twirled in an almost hypnotic manner upwards, reaching for the ceiling as Gusion felt the pull in his gut that this spell caused.

He closed his eyes and switched places with the knife.

Zhask looked up and Gusion looked down into his gaze, grinning savagely, as five blades glimmered in his hands and with one flick, he hurled them all out.

Helcurt leapt off Zhask's back as the daggers buried themselves into Zhask's face, with three of them moving straight into Zhask's eyes and the Kastiyan general cried out in agony.

Gusion dropped and his feet landed on top of the knives and pushed them further in, creating a squelching sound and Zhask screamed again, sounding more inhuman and more like the monster he was.

Blue blood oozed out of Zhask's injuries as Gusion jumped off and rolled to his feet.

Zhask staggered while howling and thrashing around, then he turned towards Gusion, with half his face mutilated by daggers into an almost unrecognisable tapestry.

Whatever was left of his mouth let out an inhuman hiss. "Die. Now."

A pink light shone from behind him and the remainder of Zhask's head was blown off by five deadly poisoned stingers before he had a chance to turn around and look his killer in the eye.

Helcurt emitted a ragged breath. "Yeah, die-"

A Nightmaric Spawn crawled out of Zhask's chest and Helcurt was caught completely off-guard as a purple electric ray slammed into his chest.

Helcurt's yowl of surprise and pain was muffled as a thick fog set into Gusion's brain and he suddenly realised he was lying back on the floor.

Wasn't I just standing? Gusion thought as his eyes began to close.

His vision faded to black before he understood what happened.